Chapter 7: Subtle as a Sledgehammer

The knights' scuffling duels with one another finally ended with a sharp bark from the Captain of the Guard that released them from the field for the day. It had been a vigorous workout for all involved and everyone was happy to rid themselves of Graham's punishing regimen. Swearing loudly and punching one another, the men grinned and spat as they began to clamor back towards the castle. Another swarm of Graham's recruits were due to follow in their stead and so they left their practice weapons dropped in the sand for their fellows to retrieve.

Emma remained standing in the middle of the showground however and watched their backs fade out of the arena, tugging her curls out of the band she had tied them in as she did.

Fighting left her feeling invigorated as always and not nearly as worn out as her new comrades. Her muscles sang with warmth instead of in protest and as she procrastinated in her departure, the knight once again caught herself glancing around the stadium for any lingering signs of the Queen. Emma knew she wasn't there, she hadn't been for hours, but still she looked.

She couldn't help it.

Her blonde hair fell loose with a violent flip of her head and she finished catching her breath; already feeling the sweat beginning to dry on her skin. The sun was high over her head and Graham had stationed himself strategically under the shade of the oak tree to escape the oncoming heat. The next wave of warriors was already starting to pour in for the subsequent round of training and he was not about to suffer for it. Even in the early spring, with the light breeze being what it was, the noonday sun was nothing to be scoffed at.

Emma jogged quickly over to where he was brooding over the scroll in his hands.

"Hey."

"Hey," he returned, looking up from his parchment. "Good work out there today."

"Thanks."

The Huntsman stared at the White Knight expectantly as she shuffled for a moment; squinted back towards the empty judging box before meeting his eyes again. "Do you know where Her Majesty went?"

"The Queen? Uhh…" his brow crinkled in sincere surprise as he also glanced at the empty podium. "No, can't say that I do. I didn't even see her leave."

"Do you know where I can find her?"

His eyebrows pinched into a dubious scowl. "May I ask why?"

Emma shrugged with what she hoped to god looked like nonchalance and folded her arms across her chest. "Well, I mean, you witnessed us get off on the wrong foot yesterday at dinner. And then with her showing up out here and requesting a skill demonstration… I just feel like I should touch base with her, y'know? Clear the air if there's anything that still needs to be cleared." She bounced on the balls of her feet to abate some of the nerves that had suddenly sprung up in her legs. Since when had she ever felt the need to jiggle her knee? "Wouldn't want to have the Queen angry with me for my entire stay here, right?"

It wasn't a total lie… it just wasn't necessarily the entire truth.

With this cunning little maneuver Regina had pulled, she'd established to everyone present that she wasn't intimidated by Emma's earlier denunciations of her character, and likewise Emma had upheld her claim that she hadn't exaggerated her battle skills in the arena. So in Emma's mind, that should have wiped the slate clean. She just needed to make sure that the Queen felt that way too.

Emma also wanted the opportunity to thank her.

Because no matter how unintentional it might have been, when Regina swooped in and demanded that she fight in an impromptu duel against her peers, Emma had instantly become one of their ranks. The Queen had solidified them together as a unit under the monarchy's whim and without that extra push it probably would have taken her months to get even close to this stage of begrudging acceptance.

But what had caught Emma most off-guard about the whole encounter was the Queen's apparent need to prove herself to the knight in the first place. And the fact that Her Majesty had deemed something as insignificant as Emma's opinion of her important, only served to reaffirm the blonde's suspicion that Regina often felt isolated by her title. She'd noticed as much in the grand hall the previous night.

Kings often tromped, figuratively and in some cases very literally, all over their wives in an excuse to show power and Emma thought that a mention of solidarity could go a long way: two ladies a little out of their element, showing a united strength against the intransigence of men.

She liked the sound of that.

Graham shook his head with a grin, all initial suspicion gone. "That would be very unfortunate for you," he conceded. "The Queen is an intelligent woman, but she is not known for keeping a level head when it comes to matters of pride."

"You don't say?" Emma joked, and Graham chuckled good-naturedly along with her.

Rolling up his parchment, he clapped her once on the shoulder, "I wish you luck in your venture, Sir Swan. I do believe you'll need it."

Emma caught his arm as he turned to depart. "You never answered my question, Captain." So, the knight repeated herself, "Do you know where the Queen went?"

"That I do not." Graham looked around her to see that his soldiers were already filed up against the benches, awaiting his instruction. "I'm not privy to Her Majesty's personal schedule. I wasn't even made aware that she would be showing up today." He admitted the last part a tad sourly under his breath as he started the trek to his troops.

Walking backwards, he called out to the blonde, "Find Claude. He's a favorite among her personal guard. He might know." The Huntsman then snapped his awareness gruffly towards the soldiers getting ready to sweat.

"Attention men! Fall into line!"

The man standing guard in front of Regina's bedchamber was husky, bearded, and stoic. And his expression didn't change even when she planted herself directly into his eyeline, hands on her hips and a determined look on her face.

Well, eyeline if the dude were to shrink at least half a foot that is.

"You Claude?" Emma questioned, and the guard's cool eyes flickered down to meet hers. They seemed kind enough.

"Yes."

Emma lifted her chin stubbornly into the air. She wasn't really sure what the proper protocol was on how to correctly go about this, so she announced her arrival loudly, "I'm here to see the Queen."

"Really?"

"Yes, I am."

She added a definitive nod for good measure.

Claude admired her pluck, but the guard was better at his job than that. He rested his hand gently on the hilt of his sword as a precaution. "Queen Regina isn't taking any visitors at the moment. You'll have to come back later."

Emma's shoulders dropped a little and she tried to keep the disappointment from her face. "Oh. Uh, okay. How much later?"

"Later."

The knight rolled her eyes at the unrelenting tone. Guards. She wasn't going to get anything out of this guy.

"Fine. I get it," she grumbled, and turned to leave.

But then she stopped.

What the hell was she doing? She was the Savior of the Realm for god sakes. And if she was going to have to deal with owning that title, she might as well swing it around and see what it could get her.

"Wait, no." Emma whirled on the spot, marched right up to the hulking man and demanded to be noticed. "What is she doing that's so important that she doesn't have time to see me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "And you are…?"

Emma scoffed proudly, "I'm the White Knight."

He just stared at her.

"The Savior."

The blank staring continued.

"Sir Swan," she tried. Her ego was starting to feel the bruise. "I just got back from the Kingdom of Gold? Fought in the war? Slayed some ogres… ring any bells?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember you," the guard replied sternly. "My duty is to Her Majesty's protection, not the entirety of the castle's guest register."

"Oh come on," Emma whined. "But I'm the honored guest of the King! I was even at the royal dinner yesterday!" The knight gesticulated wildly, flinging her arms about in exasperation. "You had to have seen me. I was sitting right across from her!"

There was a spark at that. And his eyes narrowed when her face finally registered. "You upset the Queen."

Jesus shit. That was not how this was supposed to go.

Emma stammered, "I… well I didn't… that was just–"

But Claude cut her off and his eyebrows pulled together in a deep scowl that creased what little of his forehead could be seen under his helmet. "Her Majesty does not have to see you if she doesn't desire to."

"But you didn't even ask her," Emma protested.

His scowl lines only deepened. "I am quite confident that she does not."

Emma glared at the husky guard and he glowered right back. Her eyes darted to the door behind him.

"Don't even think about it," he scolded, stepping into her warpath. "I'm under strict orders not to let anyone into this room and you don't want to get in my way."

Her ears perked at the statement. "Why can't you let anyone into the room?"

"That's none of your business."

Emma wanted to scream that the Queen was her business but that was just absurd. She had no right to the details of Regina's life. But that didn't stop her from wanting them anyway.

"Oh. Well. In that case…" and the knight made a mad dash for the door. Claude's forearm immediately caught her around the waist and shoved her rather unceremoniously away. She stumbled a little and as soon as she had regained her balance, she shot daggers in his direction.

God that guy was strong.

"I'm serious," Claude warned as he fingered the hilt of his sword again. "I don't want to hurt you. So please leave before I am required to use force."

The solemn guard then readjusted his gaze back out to blankly scanning the corridor and blatantly refused to make eye contact with the pesky knight. Apparently he was done dealing with Emma's outburst and thought that if he just ignored her that the blonde would simply go away.

Emma frowned at his dismissal and crossed her arms. Something was off about this whole situation; it stank like sour fish in a day-old meat market and she wanted to know why. She scoured his jutting disposition for clues and found nothing.

And then it clicked.

"She's not here, is she?"

The guard glanced briefly in her direction before reorienting his sights back down the hallway. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Emma didn't buy that for a second and she grinned impishly at discovering the lie. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Tell me where she is, and I won't tell anyone that you told."

Claude grunted. "For the sake of the argument, let's say she's not here." He caught her eyes in a meaningful gaze. "What kind of guard would I be if I told anyone who asked exactly where Her Majesty was?"

Damn. He had a point there.

And from the look he was leveling at her, he seemed downright offended that she could think him so easily swayed to betray his Queen.

"Look," Emma pleaded, going for a new tactic of genuineness and sidling up to the guard confidentially. "I'm not just anyone. I'm one of the good guys," she insisted. "I admit we had a spat earlier but she kind of unintentionally saved my ass today. Got me in with the other soldiers and… I just really want to thank her."

"Well if that's really all you needed then rest assured, I will pass along your gratitude and you can be on your way."

Claude's heart twinged unexpectedly as he watched the blonde knight deflate in front of his eyes. The woman had a sad puppy face that could rival actual sad puppies. And what hurt the most about the whole thing was the fact that she seemed to be actively trying not to let her thwarted expression out into the day.

She cleared her throat once.

"Right. That makes sense, I guess." Emma rubbed roughly at the back of her neck and her mouth twisted into a half-hearted smirk. "A lot of sense now that I really think about it. Could've saved you a bunch of trouble too." She chuckled dryly. "So, yeah, if you could just pass along my thanks that'd be great."

She turned to depart and got three steps down the corridor before she turned back. "But leave out the part where I harassed you when you tell her, okay? And uh…" the knight ran a flustered hand through her hair again and ruffled her curls in a nervous habit, "let her know that she was the best part of my morning. If you could."

Then she clapped her hands together once, pulled an oh-my-god-what-did-I-just-do face as she pivoted on her heel, and was speed-walking away from him as fast as she could. Hand raised in a curt wave, she managed to croak back over her shoulder, "Thanks, man!"

Claude pressed his lips together in indecision. It had been far too long since the Queen had had anyone notice or even think to ask about her presence. And Regina could use a friend. And despite her less-than-savory attitude, the gruff knight was a little sweet around her rough edges… even though she fought not to show it.

"Swan!"

Her head whipped back around. "Yeah?"

And who knew? Maybe this little white lie he was about to tell would turn out to be true. Maybe Her Majesty would run into the blonde on her way back and he could pretend the encounter was just a happy coincidence.

"The Queen has always had a soft spot for the culinary arts. I'm not promising she'll be there, but it wouldn't hurt to try the kitchen."

"Does it look like the Queen is here!?" the lead chef barked at her, who had turned out to be a robust older woman with nothing delicate about her demeanor. The lady looked like she chewed on tree bark for fun. "And thank the gods she isn't. The last thing I need is Her Majesty cluttering up my kitchen and tailing me like some kind of puppy, informing me that I have, yet again, made my marinade wrong."

"Well, did you make it wrong?"

Eugenia suddenly stopped her angry marching to round on the unsuspecting knight. Servants and lesser cooks bustled around the multiple stoves in order to give their superior a wide berth. Emma seemed to shrink into her shoulders.

"OF COURSE I DIDN'T MAKE IT WRONG!" the graying woman bellowed. "I've been doing this job for over thirty years, and I have never had a complaint before!" Eugenia wielded her rolling pin like a weapon, shoving it sword-like in Emma's direction. "But then she gets here, and its 'why does that require rosemary?' and 'if you added peppers wouldn't it increase the flavor?' and 'have I ever made a bouillabaisse before?' Have I ever made a bouillabaisse before!? Where does she get off questioning my authority? For heaven's sakes, I have recipes older than her!"

Emma stuttered under the harried woman's gaze and shrugged apologetically; giving the Queen she barely knew the benefit of the doubt. "It doesn't sound like she meant to undermine you to me. It sounds like she's curious. Or at least impressed. Maybe she's interested in what you do…?"

Eugenia scoffed so hard that her breath made some of the blonde's fly-away curls rustle in the wayward gust. "I don't have time to coddle the Queen's interests. I have a schedule to keep." She waved her hand glibly in Emma's direction before shouting to the rest of her kitchen, "The King's roast duck is due for basting within the hour!"

As the woman shuffled away, Emma scampered after her; dodging harassed-looking servants as she went. Then making a complete nuisance of herself, she leaned over the chef's shoulder as the latter inspected a pot of boiling vegetables.

"So you wouldn't have any idea where she'd be then?" Emma persisted, all but pressing her chest up against the woman's back.

Eugenia was still only half-paying attention. "Who?"

"The Queen!" Emma exclaimed. "The Queen, Eugenia. Do you have any idea where she could be?"

"How the hell should I know?!" the gruff woman snapped back as she wheeled again. "Snow White is her responsibility; not she, mine."

It was just then that a horrendous clatter of pans sounded from the corner of the room.

"LUIS! MARKO! That better not be smoke I see!"

Emma ducked out of the kitchen just in time to see two terrified page boys scatter into the surrounding culinary chaos.

Down the fifth flagged corridor she finally spotted the small brunette framed by twin armored guards.

"Princess Snow!"

The dainty woman spun like a music box at the sound of her name: a perfect porcelain doll wrapped in a pale pink dress that looked like cotton candy. "Emma!" she exclaimed in response, and a smile like summer stretched across her face.

The White Knight trotted forward to greet the princess and Snow's hovering guardians instantly crossed their lances in front of their charge. The aggressive movement was startling and Emma bulked at the defensive gesture, but Snow gently raised her hand in a stand-down command and they obediently pulled back to again become silent sentinels to her sides.

"Hey…" Emma started, glancing warily at the flanking guards. "I didn't mean to bother you, Your Highness. If you have somewhere to be, I can–"

"Nonsense, Sir Swan. Think nothing of it. You could never bother me."

"Oh. Okay," Emma nodded with her faltering lips. "Good."

The pixie-like princess beamed at her. "So…" Snow prodded, poking her once in the chest just like her father had done on the first day she'd met him. "Are you finding the palace to your liking?"

"Sure."

Snow blinked at the less than enthusiastic response.

"I mean yes. Your castle is great," the White Knight jumped to revise. She glanced up uneasily at the vaulted ceiling towering above her head. "It's just not something I'm used to. Years of living outdoors in the open air is a hard habit to shuck off. I'd barely adjusted to Midas's castle before I was moving again."

The brunette tilted her head to the side in pleasant consideration, her tiara sparkling in the errant sunlight streaming through the window. She appreciated how truthful the blonde was. "I would like us to be friends, you and I. Would you be alright with that?"

Emma felt her mouth fall open just as the guard on Snow's left leaned down toward her shoulder. "Your Highness, I'm sorry to interrupt–"

"Then don't."

"You don't have time to dally with–"

"A minute Lawrence, please. That's all I ask," she whined in reply.

"I'm sorry, Princess, but you really cannot be late to another engagement. It reflects poorly on your father."

Snow huffed out a "very well" and sighed shallowly as she returned her attention to the knight, "I apologize for the rudeness of my staff, but he is unfortunately correct in that I have appearances to maintain. Was there something you needed of me?"

"Right, sorry," Emma atoned, and shook her head a little to get her gob-smacked expression to disappear. She swore she could feel Snow's sentinels internally rolling their eyes at her lack of alacrity. "I was just wondering if you'd seen the Queen around anywhere."

"Oh." Snow's head jerked back on her neck like a bird getting ready to peck something; a disappointed little pout materializing now that she realized their conversation had nothing to do with her.

But Emma was quick to assuage her, "It's not that I don't enjoy talking with you, Your Highness. I was just hoping to run into her, and someone told me that you two spend a lot of time together."

A genuinely puzzled expression flitted across her cherubic face as Emma's words soaked in. Her eyelashes fluttered in thought, "No, you're correct, as ladies of the house we are often seen together. But now that you mention it, I haven't seen her since this morning."

"That's alright," Emma glanced again at the bodyguards' impatient expressions. "I'll let you get on with your afternoon. Thank you for your time."

But just as she twisted to leave, Snow's voice rang out to halt her, "Was she supposed to meet with you earlier?"

Emma stopped. The concern lacing the edge of the princess's voice was worrisome.

"Uh, no…"

"Then why are you looking for her?"

"…I– well, I just…"

"Oh no. Do you think she's gone missing?!"

Snow's eyes widened almost comically large at the notion and Emma had to fight every urge she had not to throw both of her hands over the princess's suddenly gasping mouth. "You don't think she's in some kind of peril, do you?!" the royal whispered harshly, and much too loudly for her voice to remain anywhere near the realm of secretive should that have actually been the case.

Talk about jumping to conclusions.

"We'll send out a search party. Lawrence, inform the militia that–"

"No!" Emma tried not to screech in her alarm and her voice ended up cracking a bit at the end. The last thing she wanted was to get the Queen in trouble. "Don't do that. I'm sure it's nothing like that. You just own a big castle is all, and I don't know my way around quite yet. I thought she might be able to help."

Her placating words worked and Snow visibly relaxed at the white lie; her shoulders coming down from where they had bunched up about her ears.

"Oh is that all?" the brunette breathed in relief. "Would it help if I assigned you an escort, Emma? All you had to do was ask."

"I can manage fine by myself. Don't go to the effort," the knight chuckled self-consciously. "Besides, I wouldn't want to make you late for your–"

She gestured helplessly at the snowy girl.

"–ship launching ceremony," Lawrence supplied.

Emma choked a little on her surprise. "…right. That."

Snow laughed and grabbed her calloused hand with her delicately gloved ones. Rosy satin to match the dress. "They can't send it out to sea unless it's been christened by a princess," she explained indulgently, and the knight couldn't help but feel like she was being talked down to. "So alas, I must be on my way. But if you need anything from me–"

"I'll be sure to ask. Thank you, Snow White."

Emma bent at the waist in a bow and gave the fluffy royal back her hand. In response, the princess dipped her head in a modest curtsy before her guards lead her down to the end of the hall and out of sight.

Emma tried not to let the trepidatious niggling in her fingertips get the best of her. She really did. But she just couldn't seem keep Snow's troubling words from echoing in her ears.

What if the Queen really was in danger? Had something happened to her? Should she say something? Or would she just be blowing nothing way out of proportion?

What had first started out as a fleeting impulse to merely talk with Regina was quickly turning into a desperate sort of need to see that Her Majesty was, indeed, just a hard-to-find individual.

Emma ducked down yet another hallway.

There must be a good reason that no one knew where the Queen was. And whatever that reason was, it surely wasn't anything worth getting her panties in a bunch about…

But the stable hand had shrugged.

The seamstress had slammed the door in her face.

And she had actually been physically removed from the entrance's gate when she attempted to enter the Queen's Garden unaccompanied by royalty.

And so by the time the two assholes in the dungeon had made enough lewd comments in her direction to conclude that the Queen was not present, the blonde's uneasy stomach butterflies had escalated into an indelible flurry of clawing concern.

Which was why when the White Knight finally burst into the bathhouse, it was with about as much finesse as a herd of dwarves in an antique shop.

Heady steam stuffed up the room in a cloud that nearly choked her with its mugginess as her wild eyes frantically scanned the area. They snagged on the lone servant folding towels by the counter.

The girl was a mousy little thing with slate gray eyes that were warm despite their dreary color.

"Hey! You!"

In hindsight, she could have started a little nicer, but the knight's nerves had fried to the point of brutishness. "You're one of the Queen's handmaidens, yes?"

Emma circled the steaming pool of water in the middle of the floor that had yet to be drained to charge the panicking servant who was beginning to stutter.

"You're not allowed in here–"

"Are you Regina's handmaiden?" Emma repeated.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave the premises immedia–"

"I asked you a question!"

"My lady, please calm down," the girl implored, now clutching the towels desperately to her chest like a shield. "If you'd only exit the bathhouse, I could see to it that–"

Emma advanced at a frightening speed until the girl's back hit the wall with a thunk. She then threw her arms out on either side of that ash-blonde head to cage the servant there. Intense green eyes met startled gray.

"Look here…"

"…Ryn…"

"…Ryn," Emma continued. "I have recently run fresh out of patience. And I did not have a lot to begin with. You see, I've been searching for the Queen for the past three hours and I am in NO MOOD to be toyed with anymore. It is of the utmost importance that I find her. Now. So I'll ask you again…" her voice rattled like a deadly snake, "where is she?"

"I… I don't know."

"I don't believe you."

Ryn's lip quivered. "But I honestly don't!" she fired back.

"You're her personal attendant!" Emma accused. "How can you not know where she is?!"

The captured handmaiden drudged up indignation from somewhere and spit it right back in the knight's face. "I'm telling the truth!" she cried. "Do I look like I'd lie to you? You have me pinned to a wall!"

"Argh!" Emma pushed off the stone in frustration and dug her fists into her hair. She should not be this worried about someone she'd just met; she didn't get attached to people like this. "This is insane! How does this even happen? How does a Queen just disappear?!"

An empty water jug went flying as Emma's boot connected and sent it soaring across the tiled floor to clang metallically in the opposite corner of the room.

The self-induced clatter shook the knight back into her senses a bit and, as soon as she regained some of her bearings, shame bristled hotly under her skin. She was acting like a heathen for no good reason at all and this girl didn't deserve any of her ire. Her father had raised her better than that.

"I'm sorry," she blurted as she turned back to Ryn, who was still staring at her a little wide-eyed, nerves frayed. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's just been… a really long day and I'm just… sorry. Okay?"

The soft bubbling of the water suddenly sounded like a waterfall in the silence that followed.

The pair just stared at each other.

"…you're the White Knight, aren't you?"

Emma sighed deeply. Of course she'd been recognized. "Yeah…" the blonde trailed her words off dejectedly as she slumped down and sat at the rim of one of the tubs, cradling her head in her hands. "That's me."

The knight kept her head downcast for a long moment. She was in the middle of deciding that she was quite content to just bore holes into the floor for the rest of her life when out of her periphery she suddenly noticed Ryn's feet shuffle forward and then stop as she sat herself down next to the blonde on the bath. Emma didn't acknowledge her presence anymore; just let out another groan and a withering sigh. Let the servant sit there.

It was only after the tiny foot next to hers began to tap agitatedly against the cobblestone that the berating quiet was broken.

"She sneaks off sometimes."

Emma's head snapped up from out of her hands to find the girl chewing on her own bottom lip. "More frequently as of late even though she thinks I don't notice. But I do. I mean, how can I not, right?"

Emma tried not to seem too eager as the handmaiden fiddled and picked nervously at the towel now in her lap, talking at it rather than face the Savior head on. "I'm not sure where she goes, but I have always wondered…"

Ryn looked at her then, and those ashen eyes of hers were brimming with meddling curiosity. "…did you check with Claude?"

A spark of hope lit itself in her chest and the knight scooted closer conspiratorially, "Yeah, I did. She's not with him."

"Did he say anything else?"

"To try the kitchen."

"And she wasn't there?"

"No."

Ryn hummed and scrunched up her face in thought, "And she's not in her garden?"

"Not that I could tell."

"Or with Snow White?"

"No."

"The dungeon?"

"No."

"The seamstress?"

"No."

"…the stables?"

"No."

"Wow, you have been busy." And Emma was thankful that Ryn sounded more impressed than judgmental at that. But then the servant's face fell a little and she bit her lip again. "And you're sure she's not with the King?"

Emma's heart plummeted into her toes at the thought. Which was preposterous. Of course the Queen could be with her husband. The woman was married after all but… her brain refused to complete the picture. Regina was just so… and the King was so… and… it just didn't sit right with her, that was all.

But before she got the chance to bring attention to her own distraught face, Ryn chattered over Emma's churned up emotions.

"No, no, she couldn't be with him," the handmaiden answered for herself. "He was supposed to be consulting with the Fairy Counsel by mid-morning today in the strategy chamber." She flipped a stringy tendril of hair out of her face. "And it's not like the King makes a secret of the time they spend together anyway. With someone as stunning as Her Majesty, who wouldn't?" She tapped her lips twice with an index finger, muttering to herself, "No, if I were the Queen, where would I be…"

And then suddenly Emma saw those snooping gray eyes sparkle with an enlightened idea.

Later that day, the Queen rounded the hall of the palace in a flurry, her heels clacking moodily against the cobbled stone while her burgundy dress billowed behind her in a huff. Claude internally breathed a sigh of relief.

Regina's whereabouts had remained undiscovered and she had still returned unharmed.

He hated leaving his Queen unattended, but the reclusive royal had sought him out specifically to confide in, and that truly was something special. And he was not about to lose her favor over something as simple as keeping his trap shut.

He'd guard her secret with his life if he had to.

Once inside her room Regina marched straight for her vanity, calling over her shoulder to him as she deftly began to tug pins and clips from her uptight updo, "Claude!"

"Yes, my lady," he answered, following a few steps inside her doorway.

"Get me Ryn." She sat down in front of her mirror and opened one of her many boxes of jewelry. Precious stones glinted and shone from the decorated case and her fingers swept over them softly before she plucked two giant garnet baubles from the trove. She pulled the more practical ones she was wearing out of her ears. "I need her to fix my hair before I dine with the King."

Claude nodded in understanding and disappeared from sight.

And seeming moments later, Ryn was at her back, curling and braiding her fallen-loose locks together; her quick fingers twisting the Queen's appearance once again into one of magnificence. The sweet girl smiled at her through the mirror and even though she didn't smile back, Regina felt her spirit lift a little.

Returning to the castle was always the hardest part.

Cranberry gems now dangling from her ears, the Queen let her restless hands clasp one another in her lap. She could still feel the light thrum of recently-used magic humming in her veins and the pleasant buzzing sensation was keeping her wondrously on edge.

The way the flame had danced around her fingertips. The heat molding to her skin and yet never feeling the burn. The surge of adrenaline as the fire poured from her palm and sent her surroundings ablaze.

Exhilarating was the only word that came to mind and she devilishly began to wonder if any of the King's prized objects were flammable.

Regina let her imagination fantasize, her dark eyes lost far away, as Ryn tugged nimble fingers through her hair. The girl studied the Queen's face as she braided and a polite frown twitched at the corners of her slight features.

The Queen was always so guarded. Which, the handmaiden supposed, made sense. Being young and in charge and under constant scrutiny gave anyone a right to wanting their privacy. And it's not like she expected Regina to confide in her of all people. A monarch speaking in anything other than commands to someone in a station as low as hers was nye unheard of. But Ryn couldn't help but have a soft spot for the temperamental royal, no matter how intimidating she could be. There was something about Regina's prickly nature that just made the girl grin.

Plus, the political intrigue that surrounded the Queen was downright juicy.

Her elders had warned her multiple times that daring to chat candidly with the Queen was the fastest way to get thrown in the dungeon. One wrong word and you were toast. But here she was, after all these months; still Her Majesty's go-to girl.

She must be doing something right.

"Sir Swan was looking for you earlier," Ryn mentioned conversationally, and hid her satisfaction behind her work when through the mirror she saw the Queen suddenly blink back to the present.

She looped another long strand of hair around itself and pinned it in place with a jewel. "She was quite insistent about it actually. She seemed rather worried about you."

"Was she now?" came the smoky voice.

Ryn snuck another glance to the mirror. The mask was up; the Queen's face betrayed nothing. But the fact that she had even deigned to respond meant she was interested.

Good; permission to speak granted. Idle palace gossip was the perfect cure to numb a swirling brain. Just what she did best.

The girl barely contained her smile as she prattled on excitedly with her story in cadence to the fervent nodding of her head. "Most definitely. She practically accosted me in the bathhouse and demanded that I tell her where you were." More and more russet locks piled up beneath her fingers. "Of course, I didn't know what to say. But I mean, she's the Savior, and there she was asking me for a favor…"

Ryn paused for a moment to primp another curl into place, eyes trained to the strand of hair she tucked gingerly behind the Queen's ear. "Seeing those eyes of hers up close was really something else though. So pretty. That shade of green is such a desirable color. Don't you think?"

She then went back to fussing at the tresses around the nape of Regina's neck, not waiting for the Queen to answer. "It's too bad she's so aggressive. She'll never be able find a husband with fight like that… it's not a very becoming quality in a woman such as herself. Already so mannish. But, regardless of the fact," Ryn waved her hand to clear her mind. "There I was with the Savior bearing down on me and I was at a loss. Apparently, she'd basically given herself a tour of the castle looking for you and she wasn't about to leave me without some kind of answer. And that was nerve-wracking to say the least. What was I to do?" the ash-blonde bubbled, really getting into her tale.

She tossed another lock into a kink and pulled. "But then I remembered the days when you first arrived. You remember right? The kingdom was so overjoyed with their new bride and we hosted gala after gala for kings and dukes and nobles, and I remembered that you performed at them. You played the harpsicord so wonderfully back then I thought that maybe you might have snuck off to–"

The fair-skinned handmaiden had only just finished the top-half of the elegant design she was weaving into the Queen's tresses when without warning, the brunette abruptly snatched her wrist from right out of the air. Caught severely by surprise, Ryn let out a plaintive little yelp as the Queen forcefully pulled the girl down excruciatingly close to her own face. She almost peed herself upon seeing the two blazing eyes suddenly so near her own.

Maybe today was the day she had finally said too much… if the fury in Her Majesty's face was anything to go by.

And if Ryn hadn't been quite so terrified, she might have noticed the panic shining brightly at the edges of those deep chocolate irises.

But as it was, she didn't.

The Queen's voice came out at almost a growl. "Ryn. Where exactly did you send her?!"