"As the wind blows, so the fates direct your path."

Chapter 8: A Queen Waits for No One

Emma could feel herself physically shaking as she made her way down to the Great Hall. Much of what she was feeling she hoped would not continue to distract her from her plan of making a different name for herself. She struggled with the many questions jumping around in her mind, much of the questions making sense, but the answers… not so much. Will she have to be Conner Rowland forever? Could she live a new life as Emma? Who would be heir to her parents kingdom if she did successfully find this new life she was searching for? Would her mother ever forgive her?

The towering oak doors were the only thing standing between her and Regina. She took a deep breath, puffed out her chest and nodded to the guard to open the door. He reluctantly did as he was asked, not in the habit of opening doors for someone who was below his own station.

When Emma entered the hall, the air was already warm from a large fire looming from the far fireplace. Before she could take in the sights of the empty and less boisterous atmosphere a thinly dark haired man popped out from behind a pillar and blocked her way. As she was expecting to see the Queen impatiently waiting for her, the man's presence was a bit off putting.

"Sir Rowland." He smiled big and stretched out a hand to her. "Pleasure to meet you."

Emma eyed him cautiously, and though his handshake seemed less than inviting, the smile grew across his cheeks the more he stared at her. He gave her a one up before continuing.

"I'm here to prep you for your dinner." He said happily. Turning on a quick heel and leading her into the hall. The large buffet style table still set up from the previous party had only two plates instead of it's usual hundred or so. One at the head, and one at the right hand.

"I wasn't aware I needed to be taught to eat dinner." Emma joked nonchalantly, finding the man's purposeful stride amusing.

The man hesitated in his step before turning around to face her properly, his smile waning yet remained professional. "Yes, well, we all have to learn things when we are dining above our station."

Ouch. Emma was taken aback a bit by the harsh tone disguised by the smirk that was turning out to be not so friendly. Even she needed to get used to living a life below what she was used to. She was not used to snark.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Emma questioned. Some attitude spilled from her mouth.

The man extended his smile once again. "Oh, my apologies. Sydney Glass. The Queens archivist and scribe, and well… whatever else my Queen needs me to be." He stated matter of factly as if he loved every second of describing his duties.

"Now who's below his station?" Emma mumbled under her breath.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" He asked overly politely as they reached the table.

Emma shook her head and smiled back.

"Good, well, as you can see the two of you will be sitting here. You will allow the Queen to eat and drink first, it is disrespectful otherwise…"

Emma very quickly tuned the man out as she had heard these rules over and over and over again as a child. She was sure she remembered them better than he did. Probably the reason she should have known that Regina wouldn't be waiting on her in that hall. Rule number seventeen, a King or Queen waits for no one. As a child, her mother would make her sit at the dining table and recite the hundreds of rules, one of the many things she was trying to run away from.

As he drummed on, Emma, for the first time, felt like she was really able to take in the magnificence of the hall. When the room was crowded with people and she was constantly having to watch her back, appreciating the elegance of the room was not high on her list. Now empty, Sydney's voice reverberated around the room as if it was a hollow cave. Murals and paintings carefully designed on the ceilings, and the walls were accented by beautifully crafted stained glass windows, no doubt all older than her, her parents, or probably even her own grandparents. A large framed painting hung above the lit fireplace, streaked with a rainbow of colors piercing by moonlight through the windows. Emma could feel her cheeks flush at the warmth bellowing from the fireplace.

"Do you understand?" Sydney called out, and Emma shook from her daze and faced him again. "I said, do you understand?" He stated more impatiently.

"Yes." She nodded, fully unaware of anything he had just said.

He eyed her, not fully believing her and gave her another one up. If he hadn't so quickly turned away from her, Emma may have given him a harder time about it.

"The Queen will be with you shortly." He yelled back as he exited the room, the heavy oak doors echoing behind him, almost cutting him off. Guess he was in a hurry.

Emma found herself alone in the hall. She was a little surprised that the Queen didn't have guards posted up in all the corners at the least. Maybe Regina felt confident at taking care of herself. Emma rounded the table, her fingers lingering on the rough wood, the Queens chair, the empty plate that will soon enough be loaded with no doubt the most delicious food she'd ever tasted.

She made her way to the painting that had caught her attention before. An angelic like being raised up in the sky above a ugly battlefield. Emma furrowed her eyes. How could someone so peaceful, look on at something so horrendous and just let it happen? Emma had long been taught about the gods but she made no intention of really believing in them. How many times had she seen men go off to war, families left ruined, friends who were orphans and yet somehow there were gods that could make it all better, yet did nothing.

Emma continued scanning the painting. Large creatures with horned teeth and dirt colored skin armed with clubs, giant swords bigger than any one man lashed out at the silver laden armors of knights around them. It was nothing but violence. Nothing but war.

Emma closed her eyes, imagining Lancelot shouting at his men as their camp burned down, what he must have felt as he watched all those men flee for their lives only to almost lose his. Could she make that sacrifice? When there was nothing else to lose but her life, could she pay that price?

"That was my father's favorite painting."

Emma's eyes clicked open and she spun around to the voice. Behind her, the Queen was looking up at the painting, admiring it, before pulling her eyes back down to Emma. Seeing Regina in the light of the fire burned in Emma more than she wanted it to. The woman's black gown, just as all her others, fit her body perfectly. Each curve delicately covered, long sleeves trailing down to her wrists, and a long black braid draped over her shoulder. The angles of her cheeks and her chin flickered with the flames.

"Your Majesty." Emma suddenly realized, lost in Regina's gaze, rule number one. Anyone beneath another's station must bow without request. "I apologize, I didn't hear you come in." She admitted, bowing at her waist, remembering that she was portraying herself as a man, and every instinct to curtsey had to be stashed away.

"It's quite alright, dear." Regina moved closer to Emma, and stood next to her looking up at the painting. "What do you think of it?"

Emma considered her options, standing back up and joining Regina closer to the fire. "May I be honest?"

Regina's eyes flicked over to her. "Of course."

"It seems to me that nobody wins war. Not men. Not ogres. Not even the gods. I think this painting reflects that. The violence of the battle, the god figure that can only observe destruction but won't intervene. Who is in control here? When your people are dying, when the gods won't help you, what is there to gain but a body count? I want to know what led up to this point. I want to know what drove these people to think that losing everything was the last option…" Emma suddenly stopped. Though there was no comparing her life to war, she realized that in some small, insignificant way, she had done just the thing she was talking about. She had reached a point in her life where losing all she knew was better than keeping what she had. Was this the same kind of feeling men feel when they decide war is the only option? When they decide that decimating entire populations is worth what comes after? No, there was no comparing that to her life. But it made her wonder.

She realized the room had grown quiet and noticed Regina seemingly completely absorbed in staring at her. A look Emma could only describe as concern, or confusion, or something to the likes of Emma completely destroying the mood of dinner before it even started.

"I'm so sorry, I meant no disrespect."

"Please." Regina finally responded. "Do not apologize. It's not often I find someone in my presence with such insight. Especially someone of your stature."

As they sat at the table, Emma followed the rules naturally, while a few servants emerged from the side doors to prepare their plates and pour them a very dark wine. The two were quiet for a while as Emma gorged herself with the most delicious food she'd ever eaten. Smoked fish that melted in her mouth, fresh fruits and vegetables, which Emma was coming to realize she may have never even tasted before. These foods were nothing like what they had in her Kingdom.

Regina seemed less interested in her food, and more in her companion. Secretly, she watched him, but she found herself deeply disappointed in their silence.

"Are you enjoying the food?" Regina finally spoke up.

Emma, realizing she had fully taken her attention from The Queen while she ate, dabbed her lips with her cloth and washed her mouthful of food down with a swallow of wine. It burned her throat as it descended.

"My apologies. The feast is wonderful."

"No apologies necessary, sir. You earned it. You deserve to enjoy it. I find it somewhat refreshing to be with someone who doesn't seem… like they have to follow the rules all the time." Regina avoided Emma's eyes, picking at her silverware next to her half empty plate.

Emma cleared her throat nervously. "Well, I have been known to break a few rules in my day." She winked.

Regina couldn't help but raise her eyebrow with the corner of her lips. "Oh. Do tell." Regina leaned into the table.

Emma threw back the rest of her wine as a servant approached to refill it. "Surely you don't want to know the silly stories of a young and dumb prin…" Emma froze instantly. Regina was mid sip into her wine glass, and she placed it down gently.

"I asked didn't I." Regina smiled.

Did she not hear it? Emma's face instantly flushed and she tried to regain her composer.

"Well, uh, I have been thrown out of a pub, or four, in my lifetime." Still reeling from the possibility of almost blowing her cover, Emma watched Regina, carefully trying to decode every facial movement or change in tone of voice.

"Oh? Surely such an honorable man such as yourself would never get into that sort of trouble." Regina teased casually.

Emma laughed, her hands turning pasty under the table. "I hate to disappoint, hopefully this information doesn't deter you from allowing me to compete."

Regina went quiet for a moment, and Emma almost believed maybe she was preparing for the bad news. Surely someone competing for her hand in marriage can't have a rough past for people to gossip about.

"On the contrary, I have been quite intrigued by your presence here. And impressed by your victory yesterday. I spend a lot of my time around people who would pay to be in your position, many of the people here have paid. But they are empty shells. No original thought, no passion for things outside of this castle. Tell me, if you had to describe this place to someone who's never been here, what would you say?"

Emma was caught off guard by the question and thought back to the many times someone had described the magnificence of this castle, this hall, this Kingdom and she wondered how those descriptions stacked up to her current experience.

"Your silence is not comforting." Regina chimed in again as Emma had lost herself in thought.

"No, I'm sorry, I was just trying to put into words what it's like to be here. It's so difficult to describe something that is as magnificent as this castle. But if you don't mind me saying, it's what's inside the walls that is more intriguing than what the outside is made of. True enough, I couldn't get enough of the sights when I first entered your city. The smells of freshly baked desserts, fall off the bone meats, and streets lined with more people than I've ever seen in my life. Your castle, so exquisitely designed from the outside in. But when I entered inside these walls, there was such a want that I felt, and a presence that drew me in. There's more to this place than just marble floors and family portraits. There's a heartbeat here." Emma paused, and suddenly found herself staring directly into the Queen's gaze which had turned from curiosity to what could only be described as burning anticipation.

"Have you ever rode a horse out to the farthest reach of your kingdom?" Emma continued.

"Of course." Regina quickly answered.

"I get this sinking feeling in my stomach, not from disappointment, but like something beyond me is pulling me away, beckoning me to something beyond the hills. That is the feeling I got when I walked through those doors the other night. It pulled at my stomach all the same. So, to answer your question, this is a place that draws you in, makes you forget whatever is happening outside of the walls, only pulling you into the possibility of a new experience, a new life."

Regina's breath hitched.

Emma's thoughts raced as she could tell Regina was not quite expecting that type of answer, and though Emma did feel some of that when she entered this castle, it was only when she saw Regina for the first time that the pull in her stomach seemed to take hold as she described.

Regina raked her nails on the table. "I must say I have felt that pull here more recently. It's been a long time since I've had that feeling though. The King's death, of course, has had me… well preoccupied lately. I haven't quite been myself. Not really sure how to be myself if I'm being honest."

Emma watched Regina's eyes dart down to the table, no doubt a bit of shame for being honest and a little vulnerable.

"Have you ever wondered what your life would have been like if you were never Queen?" Emma's question had left her lips before it could get caught in her filter.

Regina's eyes darted back up, and a tingle welled up in Emma's chest. A look of pure, piercing beauty. "I suppose I haven't. Not for a long time."

"How would you have it?" Emma sat up, intrigued at the thought of knowing that maybe someone else had felt the same thing as she had felt. The same feeling that made her turn away from everything she knew.

"If I wasn't Queen?"

Emma nodded in anticipation. As she poured her attention into Regina, she noticed a small indention on the top of the right side of her lip. A scar, no doubt. But from what? So much was welling up in her to ask, but she shoved it down and was patient. The thoughtful look on Regina's face was nothing if not ripping Emma from the inside out. Oh how she had never looked upon such beauty, and much more close up than she ever had before. The faint appearance of a brow line across her forehead, a scar, and a few pieces of ornery onyx curls tickling the woman's cheek. It was all Emma could do to not outstretch her hand and push the curls behind her ear. The thought of losing her hand held her back. Rule number fifty-two.

"I suppose I would like to have traveled across the whole world. Spending as much time as I wanted anywhere I went, learning about people, their cultures, trying their exquisite foods, and then when I've had my fill, moving on to a new place, with new experiences, where no one knows me."

Emma's lips curled up. "Spoken like a true adventurer." She raised her glass and sipped her wine.

Regina chuckled slightly. "More like a woman so desperate to leave this place, she'd literally go anywhere else, even to the deepest, darkest places." Regina admitted, a little depressingly.

"It seems as though you're not alone though." Emma admitted.

Regina perked up. "What do you mean?"

Emma made sure to think through what she would say, to be real, but also hide who she really was. She had already nearly slipped up once, the last thing she needed to do was get carried away and blow her cover. But for what it's worth, she wanted Regina to know her, even if her name was still Conner Rowland, she could still be Emma. "I know what it feels like to want to be anywhere else than where you've ended up. I think that's why that pull is so strong here. The possibility of something new, or someone new." Emma glanced up at the Queen intently. "I guess, when you've been told what to think, how to act, who's your higher, who is your lesser, you just get tired of it all. You just want to be equal with someone."

If Regina had more sense, she would excuse herself from this table at once. But for some reason, the man she stared at before her had caused all her senses to go awry and they fired in all different directions, keeping her cemented to her chair. Food, forgotten. Wine, tasteless. Only Rowland's words swirling through her ears as if it was beautiful music. Who was this man?

"Sir Rowland, do you dance?"

Emma's heart leapt in her chest. "Poorly, but I have some experience. Didn't I say that's why I got thrown out of all those pubs?" Emma laughed at her own joke, and for the first time, either due to Emma's striking sense of humor or maybe the wine, Regina finally let her full laugh come through, and it was everything Emma had ever needed to hear. The Queen rose from the table, Emma quickly following rule seven. When someone above your station rises, you do as well, out of respect. As the two women made their way closer to the fireplace, Regina waved a powerful hand and in a moment, a servant sat at a large piano in the corner of the room and began playing a solemn, soothing song.

As properly as she could manage while her insides swirled and hands shook, Emma outstretched her hand to Regina. "May I have this dance, Your Majesty?"

Regina curtsied respectfully and for the first time, their skin touched. Emma restrained an audible squeak as she sucked in a breath at the sudden spark. She noticed no change in Regina's demeanor, but wondered if she knew how much Emma swooned over her in this moment.

Their steps were slow and though Emma tried to ignore her years of dance practice to try and seem more rough around the edges, she couldn't help but move perfectly with the dark eyed woman. She led her expertly around the room, their bodies inching closer, as the song and their movements became more intimate. Soon, as if a lifetime had passed, Regina was so close Emma could feel her warm breath on her cheek. Was this really happening?

The music continued to slow and their bodies were practically touching at every point. Regina's head rested on Emma's shoulder and their bodies swayed ever so slightly in small steps.

Then as if the gods themselves had ripped them apart, Regina tore herself away from Emma.

"I'm so very sorry." She sounded a bit frantic.

Emma's eyes darted around confused. "For what?"

"For this… I… this was not proper." Regina fumbled, nervously pushing a curl behind her ear and straightening her dress. "We shouldn't have.." The servant who had been playing the piano had stopped abruptly mid song when he noticed the two bodies dart apart.

"It's fine, really."

"No, I'm sorry. I hope you had a lovely evening, but I have to prepare for the rest of the week. Goodnight, Sir Rowland."

And without another word, Regina sped from the room. Emma felt stuck as if she'd just wandered into a mud pit. She looked over at the servant now standing at the piano, who was just as shocked as she seemed to be. They both shared a shrug and though Emma's body felt completely cold and frozen from Regina's heat leaving her so soon, she managed to get herself out of the hall and into the true coldness of the late evening.

The hallway was less than inviting as the events of the night began weighing down on her. She had never met a woman that could make her feel the way she felt right now. Like she could conquer the world, or like she could take on a thousand armies. No wonder the woman could lead men into battle and rule this Enchanted Kingdom. How men didn't just bow at her feet upon sight baffled Emma. She would do anything for that woman.

Wait. She thought to herself. Again, this wasn't the plan. The plan was to find a way out of this world, out into adventure. What kind of adventure am I really looking for? Her thoughts raced. What if fate had truly brought them together?

Emma shook her head and wiped the burning in her eyes. As she headed to her room, she knew she would be too wired to try and sleep for a while. An evening breeze caught her as she turned down her hallway, and like she had many a night in her own Kingdom, she decided to take a walk to clear her head. Little did she know, there was no amount of clearing that could clear her mind of the Queen. and she would have to learn to live with the beautiful thought of Regina.

The hallways were less than inviting, dark, damp, and a low howling of the wind set Emma on her nerves. For the evening she had spent with Regina had almost made her forget about the mysterious note she found in her room only the day before, an the thought overwhelmed her suddenly.

As quickly as the thought went through her mind, it quickly left as Emma slammed into something solidly soft.

"Oof! Watch where you are going, you miserable… oh, Sir Rowland."

Emma hit the floor, only to look up and find Prince Ababwa standing over her.

"Might watch where you're going." The prince extended an annoyed hand down to Emma.

"I apologize, your majesty. I was lost in thought."

"Yes, so are many others after spending an evening with the Queen." Prince Ababwa eyed Emma up and down. "Surely, this was the first time you've had a private dinner with royalty. I'm sure you must be terribly overwhelmed."

Emma internally rolled her eyes.

"Say, I've been meaning to talk to you about something I heard last night that you might be interested in." Ababwa paused in thought and Emma felt her heart beat heavily in her chest. "Seeing as your miraculous win yesterday was well… miraculous, it seems there may be someone here willing to rig the competition in someone's favor. Or…" He eyed her suspiciously. "Rig it in their own favor?"

Emma's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you implying that I'm cheating?" Her voice was defensive.

"Oh no, goodness me. I would never. Just spreading gossip I suppose. But if I may bestow some wisdom from someone who has been in this world for far too long, we must take care to those who may truly see us for who we are. For we may not be as keen as we like to think." He smiled and pretended to be preoccupied with the intricate rings that adorned his fingers. "Let's just say, the next competition won't be so easily had." He smiled. "Enjoy your evening." He pushed passed her, stopping to examine a large painting before turning the corner, the clicks of his boots receding away from her. It was as if fate was taunting her. Bringing her to such a point in her life just to tease her with all the things she couldn't have, and all the ways her life could be over as she knew it.

Before long, she found herself beyond the rock walls and at the edge of The Queen's own garden. Was this another tease from the gods? Another vision of the Queen, as if the original wasn't hard enough not to think about.

As she wandered through the walls of rose bushes and bunches of lilies, Ababwa's words stuck with her. Take care to those who may truly see you. As if a warning was never truer spoken. Was he the one who slid the note under her door? Did he overhear a conversation she had with her father? Maybe between her father and mother? Scenarios screamed through her head.

A trickling of water caught Emma's attention and as she rounded a large magnolia tree, a cascading stone fountain came into view, the moons beams shone perfectly through the hazing evening to sparkle the water at its edges. Emma approached it, jealous by the calmness of the liquid. She dipped her fingers in the water finding its coolness more than refreshing. Emma closed her eyes, feeling the smooth water, until her mind found what she really was searching for. The smooth, warm, and unforgiving presence of Regina she had only just experienced. Bumps raised up on Emma's neck at the thought of the opportunity to spend all of her time with the Queen, do anything for the Queen.

Startling her from her dream, a rustling of a nearby wall of shrubbery caught her attention. Emma stood immediately at the thought of someone following her, trying to catch her off guard. Her eyes darted around for another sound, but the night grew sinisterly silent.

She decided on that note, it was time to retreat back to her room and get some rest before the next festivities. The next competition was in a few days and she needed to be ready for whatever was in store. Clearly, someone in Ababwa's inner circle had more information than she did and though she felt confident in whatever this competition threw at her, the thought of someone so cryptic having an upper hand made her anxious.

"Stop, someone will hear us!"

Emma whipped around at the sound of whispering voices again behind the same bushes. She caught the wiggle of the leaves and she gripped the knife she had instinctively whipped from her belt loop. As she peaked around the edge of the wall, she caught sight of two people. A tall, spindly man pushing what looked like to be a younger version of himself against the bushes, their faces smashed together. Emma's eyes widened. Scarlet!

Emma whipped back from the bushes instantly, blinking away what she thought surely was just a couple of ghosts, or a dream, or maybe her own imagination running away from her. She swallowed hard as she heard the two men giggle and jostle the bushes next to her. She peaked around the corner once again, praying her eyes would correct themselves.

Scarlet leaned heavily against the other man, more personality in him than she'd ever seen. It was all the two could do to breath between their lips smashing together. Suddenly, like a fireball, Scarlet looked up and his eyes connected with Emma's. His gaze didn't shy away, nor did he react expectantly, or run away at the sight of her. He just stared at her beyond the man he was with. She couldn't take it any longer and she darted away, sprinting the full distance back to her room, past the fountain, the lilies, the spot where she hit Ababwa, and slammed into her room. Her heart raced as if it could burst in her chest.

Where she thought she'd be thinking of Regina as she closed her eyes that night, she couldn't get Scarlet's dagger eyes out of her mind. They peered through the darkness in her room, behind her eyelids, down deep into her, as if all at once he knew her for who she really was, just as she had found out his secret. His lack of care for being seen is what bothered her the most. First the competition, and now this? Despite what everyone thought, there was more to William Scarlet than anyone knew, and Emma felt like she had only scratched the surface.

Four days had passed since Emma's eventful evening. A stunning dinner with Regina, her mysterious conversation with Prince Ababwa, and the undeniably confusing scene she witnessed in the gardens with Prince Scarlet, had her head spinning at every party and dinner that was thrown the last few days. Seeing all three of them together in the same room, knowing them, knowing their secrets, made for some very exhausting evenings. Oddly enough, she felt like one of the most normal ones in the room now.

This evening would be the final feast before the second competition, which Regina had announced early that night would be a battle in the city's center colosseum. All the competitors would be released together for some gladiator style fighting, with only one rule, no actual killing. The last man standing would be the winner.

Emma had begun to relax around some of the other guests when she noticed Prince Scarlet across the room, and as they had every night, those same daggered eyes peered at her, and searched her. She felt the most severe sense of vulnerability. Then, as if beckoning to her, he slipped out a side door leading to what looked like a small balcony just beyond the guests. No one but Emma seemed to notice at all, and after politely excusing herself from the small group that had cornered her, she stealthily followed the mysterious man.

The chilly evening air bit at her nose as she slipped through the small opening onto the balcony, which upon further discovery, was no small feature to the castle, but instead wrapped around almost the entire side of the building. The moon's crescent peered just above a tall mountain scape on the horizon. For a moment, Emma forgot why she had even come outside. She had often seen the mountains just beyond the castle, but the way they mysteriously stood, a haze drifting in and out of all of it's crevices and shadows cast by the small moon, Emma almost felt as if she was home.

Suddenly, a heavy hand whipped over her face, muffling the scream that came from her throat and pulled her back into the shadows. Out of instinct she dug her elbow into her captor and she heard the clank of metal against the wall behind her. When she turned to face her attacker, the dark haired, painful smirk of Prince Jones squinted back at her.

"Good Lord, Rowland. Could give a guy a warning." He coughed.

"What the hell are you attacking me for?" Emma spit back at him, whipping her head around, Scarlet nowhere to be seen.

"Aye, it was only a joke.." He finally righted himself, still rubbing his ribs where Emma's elbow connected.

"Why are you even out here? Are you following me?"

Jones laughed. "Fancy you if I were? I actually was meeting… what are you doing out here?" He cut himself off mid sentence, not wanting to give away too much.

"I… just needed some air." Emma shivered.

"Party getting a little too stuffy with all them royals, eh? Yeah, me too." He reached into his jacket and pulled out his flask, which seemed to never empty, despite her never seeing him refill it. He took a long gulp and handed it to her. She took it this time. "There's a lad."

When Emma handed him the flask back, Jones seemed heavy in his brow, and though Emma wouldn't necessarily consider herself someone who would be concerned for him, he seemed conflicted. "You have something on your mind?"

"No." He answered shortly.

Silence built up around them but neither body seemed to be ready to depart. Emma decided if she was going to be stuck with him, she'd at least maybe try to get to know him. "So, what did you do before all this?"

"You mean, before I came out on the terrace to get black out drunk?" He sloshed more rum back.

Emma laughed a little. "No, I mean before the competition."

"Well…" He stepped up to the edge of the balcony, and though he seemed stable, any more rum and Emma might think he could fall off to his death. "I've been searching for something."

"Oh, what for?"

"I don't really know actually." He admitted.

"Seems hardly worth searching for something you are not even aware of." Emma stated nonchalantly.

"On the contrary lad, it is the most exhilarating thing a man could hunt for." He turned to Emma, but as if a switch had flicked in his brain, he quickly closed himself off from her, and before Emma could ask any more inquisitive questions, two women came giggling out of the party onto the terrace. Their voices instantly hushed as soon as they saw Jones and Emma, and as they eyed the both of them, they continued around the building.

"Lad, do yourself a favor." Jones laid a heavy hand on Emma's shoulder, as his eyes followed the two women, examining their backsides lustfully. "Enjoy yourself while you can, because there is nothing promised in this life." He eyed his hook. "And if a life at sea has taught me anything… it's when two beautiful women leave a party, the party has only just begun." He winked, took a terrifyingly long gulp of his rum, and headed after the two women.

Emma rolled her eyes, kicking herself for believing that Jones was truly about to give her some life advice. She was almost glad she was attracted to women, so she wouldn't have to deal with men like Jones. Though she'd never admit it to anyone else, he seemed to have a different, guarded side to him that she wouldn't mind getting to know. He seemed like a man with stories. Someone chasing after the unknown, much like Emma was doing now.

Regina eyed the young knight as he disappeared out to the castle's terrace, and a pinch in her chest fell as his presence was no longer comforting her. She hadn't been able to talk to him, nor talk to anyone really the last few days as she prepared for the second competition.

Almost every night she had gone to sleep, Rowland was the last man on her mind. She felt awful for the way she left things, and she hated thinking that he resented her for stepping away so abruptly. She knew however, in the instant she realized her head resting on his shoulder that night, that if she didn't tear herself away in that moment, she may never have been able to. Simply put, she feared what would have happened between them. What could have happened. What she really wanted to happen.

After Regina's experience with Rowland that night she realized just how dead every other person in her life felt, including herself. It was like every word that he spoke was water to her dehydrated soul. How could he do that so easily? It was not often, completely rare in fact, that a man made her feel this way.

The chatter of her guests grew far louder than she could handle and without even a turn of a head, she disappeared from the Great Hall. The evening walls surrounded her like a dungeon. Still, her mind wandered to Rowland. It was as if her brain was on repeat of that evening. She hung on every word, feeling as though she was waking from some icy, frozen world into a warm, new life.

As she made her way to her room, a familiar face suddenly appeared around a corner.

"Sir Glass." She greeted him, and though he seemed startled to see her, she didn't didn't seem to notice his jump.

"Your majesty, leaving the party already?" His airy breaths between words made his voice sound like a whisper.

Regina shrugged her shoulders. "It was getting a bit rowdy for me, I suppose." She began to notice his frazzled look, and she glanced behind him, seeing that he had just emerged from the area of the castle where the visiting families were staying. "Is everything alright, Sydney?" She stepped closer to him questioningly.

"Oh yes, of course your majesty." He quickly answered. "I was just… making sure the guards knew when to bring the families down for tomorrow's competition is all. Hurrying about, you know me, never stop working." He waved her concern away.

Regina stepped back in acceptance. "Alright then. We'll see you in the morning." She eyed him.

"Yes, your majesty." He bowed quickly and headed down the hall.

"And, Sydney?" She called back to him. "Get some rest before tomorrow. You look positively spent."

"Yes, your majesty." He smiled thinly, bowed more shallow, and headed back to the loud conversations of the party.

As Regina closed her eyes, trying to take her own advice, she couldn't sleep. A feeling in her chest she wasn't particularly used to swarmed up inside her. Worry. Was she getting herself too worked up over nothing? Was she getting too ahead of herself? She had not truly given the other competitors a chance to woo her, however, she almost didn't want to know them. She only wanted to know Rowland. And he only had a one in five chance of winning.

Her worry quickly grew into dreams as she finally drifted off.