There was power in a lie; told well, with just the right smirk, the right leer, the right phrases and compliments to instill trust that would have made her mother a powerful Queen, if life had worked out the way she wanted.
Instead she trusted her daughter would inherit the aptitude.
And yes, she could lie, but only to her mother, as irony would have it. Every time her mother held her cheeks, held her hand and spoke those sweet words meant to comfort, to console for a better future, Regina would swallow her insecurities and say Yes mother, I am looking forward to getting married.
Regina, sixteen and still oddly shaped in her new gown, itching at the sides whenever she got a moment to herself, attempted to practice lying in the mirror. She put on the most passive expression, letting not a hint of emotion in her expression, but finding her eyes too warm and too kind to be a daughter of Cora Mills. She twisted her lips into something like a cruel smirk, but the effect was comical. She furrowed her brow, but small hints of darkness frightened Regina into parting her lips, her eyes opening wide.
She touched her reflection softly in the mirror. She'd never become who her mother wished her to be. She'd never like these uncomfortable, restraining gowns, smile simply because she had to, lie, manipulate to get what she wants.
It wasn't her. She felt tears well up unbidden, and unasked. She brushed them away with her fingertips, and resolved the lump in her throat, the churning in her gut. She tried to focus on the good of the day; her Daddy had gotten her a new book from town; a banned book from the kingdom, which made her almost want to giggle in delight as banned books were usually the best, and she had a riding lesson with Daniel later on.
The smile that grew on her face, blooming from the center and eventually spreading to the corners of her mouth and weaving through her eyes was genuine, but the lurch in her gut, the straining in her heart refused to leave her.
Perhaps sorrow would always be something she lied about. No. Not lie. A lie by omission. She wanted to be happy. She wanted that beautiful slice of happiness she read in her books, that she saw in villages. The fear was, lingering, that her mother didn't share her dreams. She feared the day when her mother saw through her lies by omission.
No. She pushed those thoughts far from her mind, into the deepest parts where they could fester for as long as they wanted to, not that she cared. She loved her mother. Her mother loved her. She wanted what was best for Regina, and Regina would have to comply.
She just wished her Daddy would stand up for her once in a while when her mother lifted her into the air, bound her, and told her to behave in a voice that slithered in her mind like a snake ready to bite.
She grabbed a loose strand of hair and pinned it to her head. She thought about powdering her nose. Her mother would be home before her lesson with Daniel.
She must look presentable, no matter the lies and fears in her heart.