The castle gardens were always the most beautiful at midday. The sun's rays slipped through the tree's branches, creating a path of light that decorated the grass. The flowers danced in the wind, swaying slightly to an unsung tune.
Dendrobrium orchids were her favorite. White with purple tips and outlines, the flower was small, small enough to fit into her palm comfortably. It was simple, but beautiful, and her favorite part was the gold bulb in the center. It was partially closed, only open slightly so one can glimpse inside and merely wonder what other treasures lie inside.
Emma was a dendrobrium orchid, beautiful on the outside and undiscovered on the inside. Her long, golden locks, so like her sister's, were enough to catch anyone's attention, and if her hair didn't ensnare the heart, then her bright green eyes did. However beautiful she was, she was pushed to the side, forgotten by the kingdom and often, it felt, by her family as well. Emma was still a product of True Love, and she always would be, but she was no leader like her parents or no perfect princess like Emeline. She was just Emma, the youngest daughter of Queen Snow and King David and the little sister of the woman who saved the kingdom from a war with the Evil Queen.
"Emma," a voice called out softly. Her eyes drifted up, spotting her mother standing under the shade of a tree near the garden's gate, but she made no effort to stand. Deep down, she knew it was improper and it went against all of the lessons she learned from her tutors, but thinking through plans had never been a strong suit of Emma's. "You're almost an hour late for your lessons."
"I already know history, Mother," Emma sighed, twisting the flower in her hand.
"You never really know history," her mother pointed out, and Emna suppressed another sigh. "You weren't there when it happened, and so you can never truly know all of it. The only history you know is your own, and even if you know something, you may not understand it."
"If we don't know if it's true, then why bother learning it?"
Snow chewed the corner of her red bottom lip thoughtfully before laughing lightly. She stepped closer to her daughter, smoothing her dress out as she took a seat on the bench next to Emma. "You have a point, my dear. You know, I was never fond of history either."
Emma cracked a smile as Snow nudged her with her shoulder gently. Her eyes, however, never left the flower.
"What's wrong, Emma? You've been acting differently ever since Regina was defeated." Snow waited, but after realizing Emma wasn't going to answer her, she added, "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
More silence.
Snow shifted slightly. "It isn't about Emeline's and Baelfire's recent news, is it? About the baby?"
"No, Mother. It's not about the baby. Or the wedding. Or the end of the Evil Queen."
"Then what is it?" Snow asked gently, resting her hand on Emeline's arm.
Emma shrugged, still twirling the flower. "Recently, I've decided that I want more than studies and princess manner lessons. I want to become skilled in swords, like Father, and I want to learn archery like you."
"You don't need to learn weaponry to be a good leader though."
"Yes, but Emeline knows them. Baelfire knows them. Everyone seems to know them except for me. If I was a commoner, I think that maybe I'd be more likely to learn more than I do now!"
Snow furrowed her eyebrows. "You don't like being a princess?"
"No, I do. But I just want to feel-. Mom, I just want to feel special." Snow looked confused, so Emma decided to elaborate, twirling the flower even faster in her fingertips. "Look, Mom. You and Dad are such brave warriors and wise rulers, and you have a love story that everyone in all the kingdoms know. Emeline is the hero of the realm, complete with magic, a man she loves, and a baby to come. And then I'm just… here," Emma shrugged.
"Emma," her mother sighed. "You know you're special to us- your family."
"Yes, but who else?" she interrupted her mother. "The kingdom already has a successor in Emeline and will soon have an heir in her son."
"But how does that concern you?"
"I'm not important, Mom!" Emma burst out. Snow looked taken aback at her daughter's outburst.
"How long did it take you to realize that I was late for a lesson? When one of my maids informed you? When the tutor left muttering about wasting his time?"
Snow stayed silent while Emma cooled down, taking deep breaths to soothe her heart rate. She regretted her outburst ever since it happened, but she knew she couldn't take it back now, no matter how much she wanted to.
"How long have you felt like this?"
There was complete silence except for the ruffle of Emma's dress as she stood up and turned away from her mother, the orchid slowly drifting towards the floor.
"Too long."
When Emma woke up, she was still in her dress, but her curls were more tangled than they were before she had passed out in her bed. She sighed heavily, letting her head hit the pillow once more as she slammed back into it. She could feel the dried tear-stains on her cheeks, and she cursed herself once more for letting her mother in like that. Now her father probably knew how she felt, as well as Emeline and Baelfire. Hell, the entire castle most likely found out about her breakdown.
A knock on the door interrupted Emma from her thoughts, and she cracked an eye open to see one of her maids, Aria, enter the room, her arms full from carrying a book, hairbrush, and tray.
"Your highness, are you awake?" Aria asked tentatively. Emma heard the brush and book being placed on the table next to her, and she shifted in bed to answer Aria's question. "Your parents sent me with food."
Emma's eyes opened farther at the mention of food, and she made to sit up so that her back was resting against her pillows. Aria giggled, and Emma glanced at her, asking the question with raised eyes as Aria stifled her laugh with the back of her hand.
"I'm sorry, princess. Your hair just looks, well, like a mess," Aria explained.
Emma smiled softly. Aria had been Emna's personal maid ever since both girls were fifteen. Emma sought confidence in Aria, and she often went to the servant for advice; she was the closest Emma had to a real friend.
"I guess it does. I suppose that's what the brush is for?"
Aria nodded, smirking mischievously at her. "I know you too well, m'lady. I've served you for almost ten years."
"It's been nine, Aria. And you're more than a servant to me. You surely must know that by now."
"Yes, Miss, but your birthday is in a week. And then it would have been ten," Aria answered back cheekily, laughing as Emma scrunched up her nose and held out her hand for the tray. "I was told to bring you your dinner."
Emma stared at the plate, her mouth watering at the sight of the sight of the lemon-flavored chicken breast surrounded by an assortment of vegetables. She hadn't realized she was so hungry until now, and with a start, it hit her that she had skipped lunch to spend some alone time in the garden that afternoon. She picked up the knife and fork, flicking a piece of hair over her shoulder so that it wouldn't get in her way. "Did they think that they could make amends with me by letting me eat my meal in bed?" Emma asked, slicing the tender meat with her knife.
Aria didn't answer at first, and Emma looked up from her meal to see the girl shifting from foot to foot, wringing her hands nervously. "Something like that, m'lady."
"Aria, what's wrong?" Emma asked, setting down the knife and work but still keeping her fingers wrapped around the two utensils. "Aria, tell me, please," she added, still sensing that her friend was hesitating.
"They've already eaten, princess," Aria finally blurted out, keeping her eyes trained on her feet. "The King and Queen dined about an hour ago with Princess Emeline, Prince Baelfire, and King Rumple."
"They didn't think to wake me and call me down?" Emma could feel the anger starting to build within her, though she couldn't tell exactly where the anger was originating from.
"I'm sure they just wanted to give you time to rest and think," Aria tried to supply. Emma shook her head in frustration.
"Well, I'm done thinking," she said, slamming her knife and fork against the table, the chicken still half-sliced. She placed the tray next to her and slung the blanket off of her body, allowing her to swing her legs over the side of her bed. "Aria, fetch me a satchel."
"May I ask why, m'lady?" Aria asked, her voice raising an octave due to the concern at Emma's blank stare and red-sparked eyes. She took a step towards the closet but made no definitive movement to follow through with Emma's order.
"I'm leaving. Tonight. Aria, the bag, please," Emma requested once more, standing up out of bed and grabbing the book and brush that her maid had previously laid on her nightstand.
"Leaving!?" Aria proclaimed, abandoning her orders and choosing instead to step towards Emma and grab the girl's arm lightly. "Princess, please think this through."
"Like I said, Aria, I'm done thinking. Clearly I'm not wanted here, and it's obvious that my family can get by perfectly fine without me. Where's the bag?"
Aria's face flickered with confusion and concern. After a long stare-down with the princess, Aria closed her eyes and let out a defeated sigh, loosening her grip on Emma's arm before releasing it completely. Quietly, she made her way over to the closet and rummaged a bit before emerging with a small satchel big enough to fit a few personal belongings. She handed it to Emma, keeping her head cast down.
Emma stuffed the brush and book into the bag before shaking it around a bit to see how much room she had left. Upon further thought, she went to her medicine cabinet and cast some different herbs and ointments into the bag as well. She glanced up at Aria to see the maid watching her thoughtfully, chewing on her bottom lip in concentration.
"What is it, Aria? I can tell you wish to say something."
"I suppose I can't talk you out of this, can I, princess?" she sighed sadly.
Emma stood straighter and walked in front of Aria so that the girl felt forced to look at her. "My mind is made up, Aria. Perhaps my family will realize what they had once it's lost."
Aria nodded slowly before straightening her posture as well. "Well then I suppose I should help you, considering that I may lose my post after you disappear." Aria walked over to the closet again, rifling through Emma's clothes before pulling out an old cloak, one that was still fit for a princess but more subtle. She would catch less attention walking around in this than she would one of her newer and flashier cloaks. "Change out of that dress and into something a little plainer, Miss, and then throw this cloak over. I will help you sneak into a nearby village and acquaintance you with a friend of mine. She works at an inn there, and I'm sure she would be willing to help you find a room and some commoner clothes to disguise you."
Emma nodded before scurrying to the bathroom to change into her new dress and cloak. When she returned, Aria was wearing a worn cloak as well, holding Emma's riding boots in one hand and her packed satchel in the other. "I took the liberty of throwing some bread and cheese in here as well, along with some spare paper and a pen. You never know when penmanship may come in handy."
"Thank you, Aria," Emma said. She reached for the bag, and their hands brushed. Aria smiled sadly at her princess and friend before pulling up the hood of her cloak and motioning for Emma to do the same. The two women then left the room, Emma turning one last time at the doorway to drink in the sight of her bedroom, of her bed, of her desk, of her tapestries and clothes, before closing her eyes and sighing deeply, closing the door on her past life.
