"True love? How was that even possible," the queen mused to herself as she paced the cold, stone flooring of her bedchambers. Her mind traveled back to the love she lost many decades ago.

Daniel.

Regina wiped the tears from her eyes and strutted up to her full-length mirror. With a wave of her hand, the queen's elaborate ball gown transformed into a maroon riding coat with black pants. Simple compared to her usual costumes, but nonetheless regal.

Emma's head jolted toward the entrance of the main dining hall after hearing the doors open. Once again, she was let down when it was only a member of the kitchen staff instead of the queen.

She hadn't seen the woman since she disappeared into a cloud of smoke–immediately following her father's announcement. Emma assumed Regina had been overwhelmed, which the blonde could understand, but it worried Emma that she had yet to return from her room.

"I'm sorry, dear child," apologized the queen's father. "It seems my daughter has requested some time alone to clear her head. She's gone out riding again."

Although disappointed by the fact Regina would be late joining them for dinner, Emma was grateful for the time to learn more about the woman through her father. After all, it wasn't like the queen was going to spill her guts to her right off the bat.

"It's alright, your highness. This gives us some time to talk."

Henry grinned at the blonde. "Please. Call me Henry." Emma was unable to mask her frown upon hearing the name, her mind remembering her son back in Storybrooke.

"Is there something wrong?" The old man worried the woman was beginning to have second thoughts.

"No–no. I just…I'm getting a little homesick, that's all," Emma admitted.

Henry's expression soothed into a sympathetic smile. "You miss your family. I can understand that." After a pause, he added. "My daughter. How is she? Is she well?"

Emma took another swig from her glass of wine, trying to buy herself more time before answering. What was she supposed to say? 'Oh, she's good. Just lost her soulmate Robin Hood to his dead wife returning to the grave. My bad. Did I mention he's her soulmate?' No, she couldn't do that.

True love beat soulmate, right?

"I-I'm not sure if I'm allowed to say. They didn't really give me a crash course on time travel on my way over here."

"Oh! Of course. My apologizes." The man was quick to assume the negative when the blonde's response came empty.

"But she seems happy," Emma was quick to add after taking notice of the valet's crestfallen expression.

Once again a smile returned upon his features. "Thank you."

A loud jolt from behind them caused both bodies to whip their heads toward the source.

There, at the top of the staircase stood the queen–dressed head to toe in riding gear–her long hair tied up in a single French braid.

Emma's mouth began watering at the sight. Just when she thought Regina couldn't get more beautiful, the woman surprises her. And what a pleasant surprise it was.

"My daughter," Prince Henry greeted as he stood politely from his chair as the brunette descended the stairs.

After Regina had passed by, to take her seat at the head of the table, Emma couldn't help but inhale the woman's intoxicating scent. She smelled like the perfect mix of apples and pine trees.

Though she'd never admit it, Regina purposefully refused for her maid to change her back into her evening attire–so that she could tease the blonde with her tight pants clinging perfectly to her ass.

If this truly was to be her True Love, Regina wanted to make sure she was worthy.

With Emma's eyes stuck on her like glue, Regina was beginning to second guess herself on whether or not remaining in the outfit was the right choice. That, and the fact that she was getting really hot in the clothes. It had to be the clothes, right?

"I'll go fetch you two some more wine," the queen's father announced. He looked quite pleased with himself as he made his way to the kitchen.

"So…how was your ride?"

Regina's gaze snapped to the other woman's as if she hadn't even noticed she was there. Emma had recognized her glazed over look from her time spent with the woman in Storybrooke. It happened often when the brunette was deep in thought and Emma usually just allowed the woman time for the moment to pass instead of interrupting.

"It was…good, I suppose," the queen answered. For the first time, she allowed herself to truly take in the other woman's appearance, this time making Emma be the one to feel uncomfortable. "You're not from around here, are you?" she observed.

Letting out a small laugh, Emma answered, "You have no idea."