Author's note: We know it's been a while, so if you are still reading this, thank you for your patience. This chapter is rated mature, due to some of the conversation that Regina and Emma engage in. If you are still interested in reading more of this story, please let us know - it helps us to prioritize what we're writing.
Firewood crackled and split from the bright orange and yellow flames that consumed them fully. The flames appeared to skip and sway, while smoke curled intricately above in patterns that made Emma think of ink swirling through water.
Compromises had been reached after the morning debacle with Cora, but for once they had landed in Emma's favor. While Regina spent the afternoon resting in her chambers, Emma spent hours hounding her parents until finally they had to listen to her. Wearing them down had been half the battle—but convincing them that it would be wise to have a quiet dinner alone with Regina had been rather easy, on the condition that they have a chaperone.
After all, how could they disagree when Emma had suggested that her father be the one to keep an eye on them? It would give her mother time to spend with Cora, and wasn't that the point of having guests?
Yes, Emma had been sly, but her scheming had worked. Now she stood in a small, warmly lit room often used by the maids for their own meals. With a roaring fire, a basket filled with warm food, and several of the books that she and Regina had selected from the library previously, Emma felt a tingle of excitement. It wasn't perfect, but perhaps Regina would appreciate that they at least would be spending time together, mostly alone, over a meal.
Regina appeared promptly with her escort, but the ladies went away again hurriedly and left the girl standing alone at the door. Even clothed in a gown the color of a blue jay's egg that plunged sharply at the neckline and revealed much more skin than her usual dresses, the future queen still looked young and unsure of herself.
"Don't worry," Emma whispered softly as she approached Regina. "Once my father eats, all he'll want to do is recline in his chair with one of his own books." Her gentle fingers brushed against the back of Regina's hand, but the princess didn't dare take it just yet. "I owe you an apology for this morning. I never intended to upset or embarrass you." The words were heartfelt, and Emma's eyes pleaded remorsefully with her betrothed. "I'm sorry, Regina. Can you forgive me?"
Regina took in the humble meal and Emma's soft apology with appreciation. Her eyes reflected the glow of the fire, and glistened with longing as she gave a weak nod. "Of course," she exhaled. "I was never upset with you."
Only then did Emma offer her hand to the girl, and once accepted, she led the way to a table at the far end of the room where candles flickered invitingly next to the basket on top. "I must confess, I did hear you say something about being cold while sleeping."
Oblivious to what had been happening in the room and why Regina had voiced such a thing, Emma drew the only possible conclusion she could as she pulled out a chair for Regina to sit. "I'm aware the winters here are particularly harsh for those not acclimated to the weather. If you like, I can have a pair of thick woolens made to keep you warm at night?"
Heat traveled up Regina's neck, and her face went pink as she glanced back at the door, where Emma's father lingered.
With a meek little laugh, she stepped closer to Emma and fastly clutched at her betrothed's hand. "I—" she stuttered, then took a hitching breath. "That would be lovely, Emma, but I'm not to wear much to bed after we're married."
She sat in the spot Emma had chosen, and braced her jittery hands on the oak table. Skittishly, she gazed back at Emma as if in fear of earning the princess' disapproval. "That was the whole reason Madame Guff came to visit me. She's not only preparing my wedding gown, but also my nightdresses for our wedding night-"
Confusion caused Emma's brows to knit together, yet she busied herself by opening the basket and setting the table as she listened to Regina's explanations. At first, the princess wanted to insist that sleeping in the winters with very little could only invite the winter sickness to take hold, but then, as she caught a glimpse of Regina, and heard the reason behind the fashioning of the nightgowns, Emma suddenly comprehended exactly what was being said.
"Oh. Well I-I mean if this is—" Emma faltered, trapped in that uncertain space between desire and self consciousness. Her hand brandished a small rustic loaf before she remembered what she was doing and put it aside on the nearest plate. "What I mean to say is, if you want to wear other, warmer things once we're alone in our bedchambers, nobody would ever know."
Since when did she get flustered over talk of nightgowns? Emma dared glance down at Regina, and realized it had very little to do with the material of the nightgown itself, and everything to do with the implications of what was under it. She cleared her throat and swiftly placed the food before her betrothed. Little pots stuffed full of meats, potatoes and root vegetables, with hearty broth filled with pearl barley and mutton.
Tonight, Emma would be making sure Regina ate something that would restore her energy, especially when the girl was fighting off a cold already.
Regina's gaze bashfully flew away from Emma, and she carefully tucked an embroidered napkin into her lap. She knew she should be ashamed of broaching this matter with Emma, but there was no other way to seek clarification – nor anyone else she could confide in about these issues without judgment, or terrible consequence.
King David still stood out of range of hearing, and Regina boldly confessed to all of her most private thoughts. "It's confusing," she whispered. "I always understood that I was to lie naked with you, and once that happens, it's like a contract. It truly makes me your wife." Her breathing grew shallow, and she placed her trembling arms on the arms of the chair to steady their shakiness. "I must admit, I don't know much about what will happen on our wedding night, but when I'm around you, I believe I begin to understand." With a slow exhale and an agitated shake of her head, she made further admissions. "I want to lie with you," she quietly intoned. "I don't know why, but while you were gone, it was all I could think about. I didn't get much rest. I kept returning to the same thought of our marriage bed, and in my imaginings, you grasped my breasts and took off my nightdress. Then you looked at me in the most carnal of places, and now, Emma, I desperately want you to look-"
Regina's hushed words pulled Emma closer, and soon the young princess found herself leaning into the table, her hands clutched around the thick wood to tether her to the moment, even if her heart tried to break free of her chest. "You're under no obligation to lie with me if you don't wish to," Emma hastily whispered, but all she could do was swallow thickly when she listened to what Regina so desired. Almost against her will, Emma began to picture it in her mind – a vision of her betrothed in a nightgown blossomed to life, and she swore she could almost feel the supple warmth and weight of Regina's breasts in her palms.
At the most inopportune time, King David strolled further into the room and spotted the strange look on his daughter's face. "What are you two discussing?" he grinned. "You both look so serious. Shouldn't you be laughing and enjoying yourselves? You can truly get to know one another now without anyone's scrutiny."
The sudden interruption drove off all of Emma's fantasies, and she responded with foolhardy rapidity, forgetting herself, and that they hadn't done anything wrong. "I'm sorry!" she spat out, then her brow rumpled in bafflement as her mind caught up with the words her father had truly uttered. "We—were discussing math. I was telling Regina how much I loathed my studies."
Her father snatched an apple from a basket on the table, rolled it up his arm and snatched it from the air. "Well, I'll let you get back to it. I'm just going to eat and take a rest by the fire." To allow them the illusion of privacy, he chose not to dine with them, and went straight to his post with a book. "You can pretend I've gone away to bed."
Emma's expression might still have been strained, but thankfully her father just raised an eyebrow back at her and settled down in his chair.
She had been right to request his presence; she knew he wouldn't pester them the way Regina's handmaidens would, by sitting too close and listening in on their conversation.
Finally, once her father had retreated, Emma relaxed enough to shyly glance at Regina. "Do you really want that, with me?" She asked lightly, but a shiver of nervousness affected her tone and Emma couldn't mask it.
Regina took the princess by the hand and slid her fingers through Emma's larger ones. "I do," she stressed. "Our wedding night can't seem to come fast enough. I want to be yours, Emma, so that my mother can never take me away from you."
Regina's declaration made a small, reassured smile spread across Emma's lips. "I brought along some of the books you selected," Emma explained, not missing the chance to initiate a discussion about the matters that would concern them in a few days time. "There are also some that I picked out that involve relationships between women. I was wondering if perhaps we could look through them together as we ate…" Emma's features tinged red and her palms felt sweaty as she slid a book towards Regina.
"This one often leaves me…" Emma paused, licked her lips nervously, and carried on boldly, even if she did whisper, "rather flushed, and breathless, but in a pleasant way."
Oh, how she hoped it gave Regina the same reaction.
Regina curiously picked up the book, and opened the cover with extreme care. She read a few lines aloud from the dusty parchment, but she went silent as it struck her that this was the most forbidden kind of romantic literature. She kept her eyes trained on the words, and the detailed descriptions of two women in states of complete undress. Not long into the story, the women began to couple for pleasure. The prose stunned Regina, and she gasped over the various ways the women shared their bodies. Each new page thoroughly occupied her attention, and her chest began to heave with unfamiliar urges.
"Is this what you wish you to do with me?" Regina asked almost imploringly. Her long lashes fluttered back over hopeful, striking eyes. She hardly touched her meal; she felt inquisitive, and ravenous in an unexpected way, without experiencing any pangs of true hunger. "It must surely be vulgar to talk of such things aloud, especially at dinner, but I once heard a maid gossiping about the importance of a woman knowing her husband's appetites," she muttered. "The maid wasn't speaking of food. What are your appetites, Emma?"
"M-mine?" Emma stuttered around a piece of meat, then swallowed it practically whole as Regina inched closer to eagerly take her hand again. Regina's soft, warm fingers curled around her own, and Emma couldn't help the way she looked at the difference between them. Given their conversation it was easy for Emma's mind to wander further still – to where her fingers might go after they'd traced every curve of Regina's body on their wedding night. "It would be a lie to say I haven't thought of making love to you, but I'm not sure I know what my appetites are yet. Do you know yours?" She wasn't mocking Regina by asking. Emma was sincere, and it showed in the way her eyes found Regina's, and in the intense gaze they exchanged.
Regina gently shook her head, as if worried about coming off as terribly naïve.
With the book propped open in front of her, Regina pointed at a passage that appeared to perplex her. She lowered her head as she spoke of a subject that that had troubled her in the past. "On the eve that we're married, when I'm to come to your bed, and relinquish my maidenhood to you-" she haltingly muttered. "How would it please you most to claim it?" Meaningfully, she studied Emma's longer, thick fingers and turned a shade more scarlet.
The mere suggestion of claiming Regina did peculiar and unsettling things to Emma. She felt feverish, and could feel her pulse as it thrummed through her veins. It wasn't proper, to consider any part of Regina as property, or hers for the taking - but oh, how could she explain that the idea of it, of being the one to take it, filled her with intense heat and desire?
Emma struggled with her mixed feelings, and bit down on her lip as she tried to articulate what she wanted to say. "Nothing would give me more pleasure than knowing you were giving it to me because you wanted to-not because it was expected." Emma paused, her eyes darting towards her father to ensure he was preoccupied far away. "So instead," She continued softly, imagination running wild. "Why don't we talk of how you would like it to be taken? There is a passage in the book that goes into great detail of how exquisite the softness of lips and warmth of tongue could be, if you would rather that..."
Regina sought the chapter in the book that referenced those sensual acts. She looked conflicted, and even a bit distressed by Emma's insistence that she decide. Facing her own wants and testing out her new freedoms brought on panic, but also elation. "I want to experience all of this with you," she timidly admitted. "But I feel… so strange, Emma. I ache just in talking about these matters. It seems the only thing that would satisfy me is to have you – so deep inside – filling the whole of me. Giving me part of you, as you take all of me, in turn." She squeezed Emma's hand tighter, and drew the princess' arm over the table. Her lips parted as she inhaled sharply, and then she glanced down at Emma's fingers. "This way," she muttered decisively. "Please? For our wedding night."
Enraptured with Regina's every word, Emma felt her temperature rise and a pleasant pulse spread out through her body. Though her breathing maintained a steady, slow pace, she realized it was only due to her sword training that she wasn't yet panting. However, there was no way Emma could hope to disguise the way her hips jolted forward when Regina gripped at her fingers, making her desires very clear. Emma's teeth found purchase in her lower lip and she swallowed the noise that tried to free itself from her throat. "Yes," she all but growled, her green eyes intense as she watched Regina's face. "I want that. To feel you against my fingertips, to experience your warmth so intimately wrapped around my fingers." Emma felt almost dizzy with love and lust, and they battled silently within her. Had her father not been there, she might have felt compelled to do something foolish, like dive over the table to kiss the lips of her betrothed.
With her request granted, Regina almost smiled to herself as she continued to peruse the book. The next pages recounted the use of an instrument in lovemaking, shaped to fulfill a similar purpose and covered in the softest leather. The woman in the story had been using it on her own body.
Regina passed the book to Emma, to allow them to read the same section. "I don't quite understand what they're talking about," she disclosed. "Why is she acting alone, and what is the writer describing?"
In an attempt to compose herself, Emma gulped at the water in her cup, then wiped her cold hand against her forehead. Carefully, she slid the book around to gaze at the pages that confused Regina, and felt another tingle of excitement rush through her limbs. "I will tell you, but I insist you eat as I do so. I don't want you leaving here without something in your stomach and I shan't give anyone the excuse to think we were doing anything other than having dinner."
To appease Emma, Regina tasted the vegetables and meats that covered her plate, and wetted her lips with the wine in her own goblet.
Satisfied that Regina had listened to her, Emma hunched over slightly as if looking at her own plate, but it was a ploy to murmur softly, "In this part of the story, the woman is exploring herself the way a lover would, commanding her own pleasure and finding out what she enjoys."
Emma licked her lips and felt a blush scald her cheeks. She didn't have to read these pages to remember what they contained; she knew them by heart. "She's using an object that—" Emma cleared her throat quietly and tried to avoid eye contact. "That um – was crafted in the shape of… - " It felt silly to say, and yet almost exciting. "To resemble the part of a man that they all tend to brag about. I've heard they can apparently be crafted in many shapes and sizes, and lonesome women, and sometimes men, enjoy them as an extra source of pleasure." Despite the shyness that enveloped Emma, she sought out Regina's gaze and added with a slight husk, "Sometimes, people use them together."
"You must think I'm rather ignorant," Regina sighed insecurely, and her mouth fell into its natural pout. "You're more knowledgeable about all of this than I am." She drew the book back over to her, and peered down at the text as she attempted to visualize two lovers making use of such a device. "I sense the idea of this thrills you, and if that's the case, then we must have one. Have you ordered any to be crafted for us?"
The question caught her off guard and Emma swallowed thickly. Unintentional thoughts intruded within her mind and her neck burned with a blush that crept over her skin like a guilty stain. "I would never order something like that without discussing it with you first." Emma whispered, her tongue all but throwing the words out of her mouth. "Would it please you if I say I will, or would your heart sink at the thought of it? If we're to share a life together as equals, then that includes what happens within our bed chambers." Emma's voice was confident and the look in her eyes said that she wouldn't stand for anything less.
Regina fussed with the napkin that was draped over her lap. "I don't want a man or any part of a man, but this isn't the same, is it?" she asked. "We should have one made."
All of this talk felt so forbidden and improper, and yet Regina couldn't bring herself to end their conversation. The risk made it more exhilarating, yet a shiver of fright went through her. "I wish I could touch you," she sulked. "I would like to sneak away tonight, so we could try to kiss each other again, but I'm frightened there will be horrible consequences if we were to get caught. We shall have to just continue to exchange our secret longings until we exchange our vows in a few days time."
"Please, tell me of your longings, Emma," Regina softly begged. "Tell me how you would prefer me to give you pleasure, and if there are other passionate customs that intrigue you."
"My longings?" Emma shyly shifted in her chair, and lifted a spoonful of soup to her parched mouth. Her throat had become terribly dry and she didn't want her father to notice they were barely touching their meal. "I must admit I do wish I could kiss you, and touch you, but I think you're right. If we were caught now, more than ever, it may jeopardize our future together and I don't want to chance that." While that had been true, Emma still averted her gaze when Regina watched her patiently and waited for her to continue. Her palms began to feel sweaty and Emma licked her lips to quell the nervous beating of her heart. "We can't touch each other, but tonight, when we are alone in our bedchambers, warm under the blankets, we could think of each other and…" Emma coyly looked through her lashes at Regina. "Touch ourselves instead."
Regina's mouth fell open at the bold request, but before she could agree or refuse, the heavy door to their private dining hall swung back.
Queen Snow honed in on her daughter, and with a doting smile, peered over the princess' shoulder at the collection of books on the table. "It's nice to see you girls are enjoying yourselves," she remarked, and blessedly failed to do more than glance over the story titles.
Regina hurriedly slammed one of the books shut and primly sat up straighter.
Emma startled at the sudden sight and closeness of her mother. Regina's quick reflexes both startled and impressed her, and she made a mental note to thank her betrothed for being so clear headed in the moment.
"I thought maybe you'd like to take Regina down to the ballroom," Queen Snow explained and gently placed a gloved hand on Emma's shoulder. "The faeries have just finished with the wedding decorations. Everyone is so excited. That was all anyone could talk about at dinner tonight!"
"Why?" Emma exhaled in panic, then shook herself back into some semblance of composure. "I mean what? They have?"
Anxiety became eagerness as Emma glanced towards Regina. The idea of getting to see her betrothed's reaction fast consumed all her thoughts and she stood up immediately. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Thank you, mother."
With a step forward, Emma courteously offered her hand to Regina and smiled in warm solicitation. "Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ballroom, Regina?" Gushing with energy, the princess rocked impatiently back on her heels.
Regina gathered up the end of her billowy dress and looped her arm through Emma's arm. "Happily," she replied. It was their chance to steal away without a chaperone, but much to their disappointment, a few of Regina's ladies in waiting were already standing near the door when they exited the small dining room together.
"Emma," Regina muttered, careful to use language that was vague enough to throw off any eavesdropper. "I would like to grant your request from before, but I feel we'd best wait. I wish to experience what we both mutually yearn for – "
"Our first kiss," Regina delicately added, as her ladies circled in closer. Emma understood her true meaning, though in the midst of their present company, they didn't speak of it again. The ladies ushered them down the hall to the grand ballroom, and away from their risqué tête-à-tête.
It had been a brazen thing for Emma to suggest, and there was a hint of shame that took hold in her as they were guided down the hall. Regina was right to ask they wait. Emma hadn't been sure what she'd thought at the time to be so foolish. What if her betrothed considered her no better than the crude men she trained beside?
Emma was the first to enter the ballroom, although she only cared to see Regina's reaction to the spectacle.
Despite her valiant attempt to crane her neck backwards to gauge Regina's opinion, Emma unfortunately did nothing but glance at the ceiling, and for an awkward moment, she made eye contact with one of Regina's handmaidens who peered back at her like she was loon.
Righting herself, Emma had to wonder if perhaps she actually was one. It certainly explained her strange behavior. No, that wasn't it and she knew well enough not to lie to herself. She was falling in love. All the books she'd read had spoke of women losing their minds and Emma had always scoffed when she read it, but now look at her. Displaying all the characteristics of madness. Emma shrugged her shoulders in effort to dislodge the rambling in her mind.
Desperate though she was to step inside, Emma held back in order to offer Regina her arm. "This is where we'll dance on our wedding day." It came out as a breathy whisper that carried more emotion than Emma had wanted to display. With a sharp clearing of her throat, ever aware of all the eyes on her, Emma walked through the large doors and into the luminously decorated ballroom.
Along the high ceiling, enchanted lanterns gave off a gentle faerie glow. Magic snowflakes danced through the air and disappeared midway through their descent.
Orchids, white roses and stephanotis covered the cherry wood banquet tables in the adjoining hall, and clung to the wooden arbor where the couple would stand to make their vows.
Regina gasped at the splendid preparations, and let out a quiet giggle of merriment as she stepped along the carpet that led up to the dais where Emma would stand awaiting her on their wedding day. "I will dance with you tonight if you can catch me," Regina teased, and then ducked around a large pillar to play hide-and-seek with the princess. Her entourage stood by without interfering, though they showed their objection on frowning faces.
Emma paid no mind, and nobody dared utter a negative word in front of her mother, Snow, who stood proudly with her own attendants by her side.
The second Regina darted off Emma felt her feet instantly pull her along after the girl. She wasn't quite sure when she'd started to laugh herself, but she could hear it rising from her throat, rich and loud. "There is no if, I most certainly will!" Emma declared as she stalked after her betrothed.
As very serious as their conversation had been before, it was easy for them to transition back into this carefree behavior. "I think I know how to slow you down now," Regina taunted in a lowered her voice. "You are clumsy when your mind is on other subjects."
One hand splayed against a pillar so Emma could comfortably lean forward with a grin. "Nothing slows me down when I'm giving chase to you." She boasted roguishly, and stepped forward as if to catch Regina. Except Emma found herself a little flustered with her betrothed's tone, and felt the sensation of heat expand from her abdomen. "I am not clumsy!" Emma huffed indignantly. Though when she leaned towards the pillar again, she almost missed it. "I meant to do that." She hastily added, embarrassed by her fault.
Regina chuckled mischievously, and in search of a way to sneak up on Emma, she ran behind the latticework that had been put up along the rough-hewn stone walls. She realized too late that she had trapped herself, and her only option was to wheedle by or fling herself into Emma's arms.
With her mind made up, Regina threw her arms around the unsuspecting princess. "Dance with me!" she demanded, pressing her body against Emma's as firmly as she could in the presence of an audience.
Her ladies tutted softly at her, taking note of her every unbecoming behavior, though they soon fell silent when they noticed that Queen Snow was beaming.
"I would love nothing more." Emma eagerly stated, and allowed a moment more of the contact Regina offered her before leading them into the center of the dance floor.
Cora entered the ballroom in a sweeping rush, but made no attempts to reprimand Regina. She just scowled and clasped her hands patiently, waiting for the moment she could command Regina off to bed.
Cora's sudden appearance caught Emma's attention for a split second, but then her focus landed back on Regina. Nothing could ruin this moment for them, not even the sight of that woman and her obvious displeasure.
Regina curtsied to Emma and twirled gracefully, still laughing at Emma's awkwardness. It was only when Emma's hands fell to her hips that she stopped and leaned in close to Emma. Their bodies came together with perfect timing, and Regina's sigh of contentment became an unbidden, breathless noise that was not quite a groan.
Hearing the soft sound from Regina felt intimate, and Emma hummed her approval quietly in return.
"I was incredibly bold earlier. I hope you can forgive me." Emma whispered, with a subtle twist of her wrist that brought Regina half an inch closer. For a moment all she could do was stare into the depths of Regina's eyes. Flecks of amber marbled the dark mahogany; it inspired memories of sunlight flickering across the trees in the forest, enticing her to go on an adventure. "You have the most beautiful eyes. The kind I wish to gaze into for the rest of my life. I don't think I've told you that yet."
Not for the first time Emma had to wonder why her mouth opened so readily to disclose the thoughts in her head, but she didn't seem to mind as they moved in a full circle around the large room.
Regina swayed with Emma and nestled her face comfortably in the crook of the taller girl's neck. The compliments sent pleasant shudders up her spine, and left goose bumps over her bare shoulders. She let Emma spin her, and as the ballroom spiraled around her, she envisioned their wedding night when crowds would gather to witness their first dance together as the future queens of this land. Piningly, she stared up at Emma and lost herself in the evergreen of the princess' eyes. "Looking at you is like an escape from everything that's ever frightened me. You make me feel safe and wanted, Emma."
Oh, that melted Emma's heart as much as it pained her to acknowledge that Regina had things she feared. "I will always protect you." Emma vowed without any hint of amusement, her tone as serious as Cora's pinched face. Privately, she wondered if perhaps the woman had a secret supply of lemons she sucked on when nobody was around. It was all that could explain the woman's constant sour expression.
True to her word, the princess tightened her arms around Regina, relishing the soft warmth of the girl's breath against her neck. The subtle scent of soap tickled Emma's nose, and mingled with the floral scents that wafted from the candles burning steadily around the room that had been made with perfumed oils. "I will always protect you." Emma repeated softly, her eyes closing momentarily to bask in the moment of holding her betrothed.
The next turn she took, Regina glanced back towards the doorway where her mother conversed with Queen Snow. She would never forget Emma's ardent promise, and fully trusted that the princess would keep her word. "I'm afraid we must mind what we say," Regina whispered. "My mother is quite talented at reading lips. But I will tell you this: what we spoke of tonight has set me at ease about what will occur on the eve of our wedding. I don't regret confiding in you, nor do I wish you to feel ashamed to ask things of me. After we're married, we can discuss these subjects more freely, and I will be ready to give you whatsoever you desire."
"Then I look forward to all the things we shall get to talk about." Emma murmured almost mischievously, albeit with a teasing smile as they danced. Her careful feet led Regina around the room effortlessly, and Emma finally looked beyond her betrothed to take in the ornaments and decorations. The palest of blue silks interwove with the brightest, as if the sky and the sea were coming together. They further entwined with a rich, royal purple that Emma's mother had always loved. Some were hung in beautiful drapes, cascading from the ceiling to the floor, while others were done in ribbons—intricate small things that laced around sturdy, though delicate silver candleholders. Emma had never felt happier than she did right then, listening to Regina, but she took the liberty of tilting her backwards slightly in order for the girl to look up. "You see that? That's us. You're the pale blue, and I'm the darker one. It's a display of how our lives will be bound together." There was pride in Emma's voice, and it showed in the way the princess stood a little taller.
On the verge of taking another whirl, Regina pondered Emma's interpretation of the décor, and then came to a sudden halt as a realization swept over her. "Oh, Emma—we left the books in the private dining hall!"
Panic flickered across Emma's features like the shadows cast by a flame, but just as soon, she shook it off and smiled. "Don't worry about the books. I will have them taken to my bed chambers." How, she wasn't about to share, but free from prying eyes, Emma flicked her wrist and closed her eyes, letting the magic course through her veins and do her will.
Regina gasped out in relief, though she had little idea of how Emma would accomplish such a feat without endangering their reputations. "No one can ever find out about what we discussed," she warned, anxiously sneaking a glance at Cora's miserable, shriveled face.
With a tremor of dismay passing through her shoulders, she clung to Emma much too closely, and her mother's dark magic sent a horrible shock through her. She stumbled backward, half bending from the force of it, and let out the tiniest whimper of pain.
To prevent any onlooker from developing suspicions, Regina made herself stand upright again. "Emma, I think I've exhausted myself," she murmured, still grabbing at her ribs. "Please—please escort me to my chambers."
There were plenty of things that Emma could tolerate, but the sight of her betrothed in pain would never be one of them. Emma winced at the sight of Regina in the throes of such a terrible shock of magic; it felt like a fist squeezing around her own heart and she gasped. The moment they shared had been shattered by that damned spell Cora had placed on them. The thought of the woman caused Emma's lips to curl into a snarl while tension hardened her back until her bones felt like metal. Yet she snapped out of it immediately, and offered her hand to Regina with a hushed, worried whisper. "Are you okay?" Quickly, she announced louder for the benefit of everyone watching, "Yes of course, you must rest."
"They make such an adorable couple," Snow breathed out, not far away. From the smile on her face nobody would have known the sudden and sharp twist of her gut when she witnessed Regina stumble back. The instant way Regina shot back up, so worried, left no doubt in the Queen's mind that something had just happened. And she knew her daughter well enough to see that the stiffness in Emma's walk meant she was trying to conceal her emotions.
Queen Snow smiled warmly at Regina and Emma as they walked past, but before they could escape out the door, she placed a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder to halt them. "I hope you both don't mind, but I'd like to escort you back to your chambers. I have to know all your thoughts on the ballroom!" Snow's tone was airy and enthusiastic as she gushed, "Regina, I must know your favorite flowers so we can make more beautiful arrangements and centerpieces."
A tingle of suspicion ran through Emma, but she was wise enough not to question it in front of anyone.
After Regina was safely back in her own chambers, Snow ushered Emma out of the room and down the torch lit hallway. The flickering flames cast shadows on the walls that had always accompanied Emma to bed, but tonight their reassuring patterns did nothing to soothe the worry that settled in the pit of her stomach. "Why do I have a feeling that's not all you want to ask?" she finally murmured under her breath.
Snow smiled down at Emma, but her soft, lilting tone had an edge of sharpness to it. "Because it's not."