Robin barely knew what was happening before he was dragged from the room and shoved roughly into a dark dungeon cell. He could still feel the Queen's lips on his, and he wondered if this was all some elaborate trick. Why had she kissed him? Why had he kissed her? What was this madness? Had he really wound up here, on the cold stone floor of the dungeon, because he couldn't resist a beautiful woman?

It wasn't just her beauty, though. She was more than beautiful – she was exquisite, a work of art, and though he had heard her described as the fairest of them all, he hadn't believed it until the moment she stepped out from behind that curtain. But what haunted him most was her sorrow. This was a woman who had endured hardship and survived, but not emerged unscathed. She was wounded, and he felt a strange desire to help her somehow. Not that he had any way of doing so.


Leopold was not pleased.

That was the understatement of the century.

"You married me, promised to be my wife and be faithful to me, and yet I find you in the arms of another man? A man who is also an outlaw? This is a severe transgression, Regina. You will have to be punished for this."

Inside, she was seething. Her face was a mask of stone cold defiance.

"There has never been any love between us," she said. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Because you betrayed me."

She longed to simply rip out his heart. She was close enough. He wouldn't be able to stop her. But the kingdom would know, and then they would never follow her. So she bowed her head in a show of submission and murmured "Forgive me, Your Majesty," all the while filing away jealousy in her mental list of her husband's weaknesses.

"What will become of him?" she asked. "The prisoner?"

"He will die for his crimes."

"For his crimes against the kingdom?" she demanded. "Or because I kissed him?"

"For daring to take what is mine."

Both, then. This hurt to hear – as darkened as her heart had become, she did not want to be the death of this man – but Regina simply nodded and allowed her guards to lead her back to her chamber, listening for the sound of the door locking. She was no less a prisoner here than the thief, but just like him, she was dangerous in her own way. When they had left her alone, she pulled her book of magic out of its hiding place, a hidden compartment on the floor of her closet that could be opened only by blood magic, and flipped through its pages until she found the spell she needed.


He was trying to pick the lock when she appeared. One moment he was alone, and the next, the Queen stood before him, still dressed in her nightgown. Her hair hung loose down her back. Even now, he couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. With a flick of her wrist, the lock was open and the barred door swung loose on its hinges. He stared up at her, mouth agape.

"You can use magic?" he whispered.

She lifted a finger to her lips and beckoned to him, moving close – so close, he found himself distracted by the curve of her neck and the strange little scar on her upper lip.

"I've put the guards under a sleeping spell," she breathed with her lips an inch from his ear. "The King will assume they were passed out, drunk. You've got quite the reputation for daring escapes – I doubt he'll think anything of it."

He nodded his understanding. As she drew back, he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Their lips crashed together, and his hands were everywhere, caressing the curves of her body and searching for the laces that held her dress together. But she pushed him firmly away.

"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly overcome by shame. "If I misread something …"

She shook her head.

"No, you didn't. But we can't," she hissed. "There's no time, and if the King found out …"

He looked into her eyes and saw that they were shining with tears. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to hold this beautiful, wounded woman in his arms and do whatever it took to make her smile again. And maybe he could.

"Come with me," he whispered, wiping away a tear from her face. "We can escape together, we can … what?"

Her eyes had gone wide, and she stared at his forearm, revealed when he had lifted his hand to touch her cheek. She stepped back as if in shock.

"I … I can't," she said. "Just …"

She waved her hand slowly in front of his face, and he knew she was using magic. But then she was gone in a puff of purple smoke and he was left staring at the place she had once occupied.

Robin blinked in confusion, looking around at the empty dungeon and the open cell door he didn't remember unlocking


Regina paced back and forth in the bedroom that felt more like a prison than ever. Her heart was racing, and her fingers trembled. The image of the lion tattoo was etched into her mind, and a voice in the back of her head wondered if it might not have been better to leave with him and start a new life, a life away from magic and vengeance, a life where she was no longer chained to the throne and could finally be free. But she had made her decision all those years ago, that night at the tavern, and it was too late to turn back now.

There was only one thing to do. She had to forget, as she had made him forget. Only then, when the identity of her soul mate was erased from her mind, could she be certain she would never pursue him. Only then could she be certain that her quest for justice could continue unimpeded. Her happy ending was to avenge Daniel's death, not to run off after some thief who happened to have a tattoo.

And yet, forcing her hands to be steady as she made the potion, she couldn't help but wish she had chosen differently. She couldn't deny that she liked this man and felt a sort of connection to him. In time, maybe she could have learned to love again, even been happy. But it was too late for that.

Scrawling down a few words on a sheet of parchment, she lifted the potion to her lips and drank.


The next morning, Regina would wake with a vague memory of being caught kissing a man whose face she couldn't quite remember and find, clenched in her fist, a scrap of crumpled parchment on which she had written: jealousy is the King's weakness.

Not long after, Robin would hear the news. The King was dead. He wouldn't be able to rid himself of a feeling of satisfaction, although he could never figure out why he felt that way. His mind wandered sometimes to the newly widowed Queen and the rumors of her beauty and her cruelty, although why he felt so intrigued by her, he would not understand.

A lifetime later, the two would meet again.

They were soul mates, meant to find each other, and fate drew them together time and time again. But nothing could bring back their lost memories, and though they held each other tight as they drifted off to sleep each night and woke up side by side each morning, neither of them would ever guess what had almost been.

Until one day, a pulse of rainbow light would change everything.