As much as Regina was used to the finer things in life there were just some things a palace couldn't give you.
She dived into the placid lake, the vibrant cold making itself known to her body in the most delectable way possible. Though heated baths were a luxury there was something to be said for being able to be so deliberately exhibitionistic with her body. There had been a river near her childhood estate, once, when her mother and father had been away on official business, she'd snuck out there with Daniel on such a day that sweat had clung to every portion of their bodies. As soon as the cold water had touched her naked skin Regina had felt deliciously refreshed and alive – free. Lightweight and free of worries she'd splashed about while Daniel had blushed and stuttered and turned his back.
The memories might be bittersweet but swimming in solitude through water on the fine line between breath-taking and numb was always a personal pleasure.
Having finished all the aquatic acrobatics she floated for a while before standing near the bank, water flowing over the tops of her breasts, tackling the knots in her hair. It was more troublesome when it was long, she mused, perhaps she'd cut it Storybrooke short after defeating her half-sister. A crack alerted her and Regina whirled, hand up, flinging her three 'guests' against corresponding trees.
It was the thief. And the fat one. The friar looked ready to have an apoplexy, turning a shade of red that would have been troubling had she cared.
"Oh, it's you." She lowered her hand and started walking towards them. As soon as her feet touched ground she was engulfed in purple smoke, drying and clothing her in seconds. Regina made for the direction of the palace.
"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" She enquired, walking past them and releasing the immobilisation spell. The synchronised thuds made her smile, and she made sure to stretch and bow her body like a bow, moaning in pleasure. Those bastards would have a good view of the long lean line of her body, and with the recent scene they'd be unable to keep themselves from imagining it sans the clothes. Her time as the Evil Queen had taught her more than enough about playing advantages given her to throw off her opponents.
Smirking she turned to survey the men in various states of shock; jaws open and eyes unable to stop roving over her. "Coming?"
Robin stared up at the woman before him, body in profile. The Queen was clad in a long line of head-to-toe leather pulled taught over curves, fur accentuating her wrists and the slim, luscious line of her neck. Supercilious expression on her face and her eyebrow raised tauntingly in mock obliviousness, her lips the only blood-red colour against everything.
In that pose she had embodied sin, seduction and all the tempting things best whispered about in the dark. In that pose she was a seductress. Every inch the Evil Queen; a threat to a man's heart in more ways than one.
Robin swallowed. Hard.
Gifting him with another smirk, she turned to restart her journey. His men stayed another second in the solidarity of reluctant appreciation before Little John clapped him on the shoulder and Friar Tuck walked past muttering; "I'll pray harder tonight."
He tried not to feel like it was directed sympathy. Or that he needed it. He failed.