A/N: thanks to all for your beautiful reviews. sending lots of love!
here's some Regina's PoV; enjoy!


II

She doesn't want to go to this stupid party.

Regina sighs, as she smoothes invisible wrinkles on her dress. She'd give anything to just stay home, in this poor excuse of a house – still better than going there, to the Town Hall, to mingle with whatever sort of peasants are inhabiting this side of the country.

Truth is, she misses home.

Pemberley and its trees and lakes, Pemberley and her sister playing the piano all day long, Pemberley and her books and her horses. She's agreed to accompany Mary in this… vacation, however she wants to call it, but home is where she belongs. Far from the madding crowd.

She will see what the evening brings. Mary knows she doesn't like to go out in public – still, she has always… pushed for Regina to at least interact with people. They grew up together, Mary and her, so it was only natural that Mary would take it as her sworn duty to ease Regina's way into an amicable relationship with society. And of course, there is talking of husbands – every time she goes see her old aunt, Lady Cora, she just loves to ask if Regina has found someone yet, she adores to repeat that she can't end up an old spinster, that she has to give Pemberley an heir.

Regina knows Cora would love to set her up with her son, Percival. But unfortunately, the man is not the… healthiest person ever existed, and society would frown upon such an union. A waste, her maid has said once, to marry a frail man, just a waste, miss. Cora hadn't liked it – that Regina could think about rejecting him.

But alas, it's done now, she smiles to herself. Pemberley is hers, and hers alone, as her father left it, until she finds a man who's worthy of sharing it with her. She may never do. Well, she's not opposed to her sister inheriting everything. Contrarily to what Cora believes, Regina loves her sister, Belle, in ways that Cora never could with hers – Regina's mother, Colette, died when the girls where both very young.

"Regina!" Mary's excited voice pipes up from up the stairs, interrupting her thoughts. "You're ready! Shall we go?"

°.°

The Town Hall reverberates of laughter and music when their carriage approaches it. She groans at the thought of the people. Mary squeezes her hand in kind, as if she knows exactly what Regina isn't saying. "It will be alright," she soothes. "We go in, have a few dances and then go home. You don't even have to dance. You can just stay there with Daniel and have a few drinks, right?"

"I suppose I can," Regina sighs. Mary exits first, offering her arm to a kind man outside. Then Daniel, and he offers Regina his arm, and she takes it, sending him a grin. She's always known that Daniel would like to marry her. But if she's honest with herself, she won't end up in a marriage she doesn't fully appreciate just because she happens to know her fiancé well. She grew up with him, for heaven's sake. He's been her friend's little brother for a long time, and he's always been kind, but… it's not enough.

"Miss Mills," their host greets her. He's something like a knight, she believes. "It is a pleasure to meet you, at last. The tales of your beauty have traveled the lands."

She eyes him, mistrusting, but he seems gentle and maybe it was a compliment and nothing else. "Thank you, Sir Lucas," she nods curtly, her lips tugging up slightly. If he was expecting small talk, she won't give it.

He looks at her, puzzled, but before he can say something, she finds herself inside. And it's even worse than she's imagined earlier, in the quietness that was Netherfield.

People are dancing, laughing and drinking in every corner, and the dance floor is practically covered with moving bodies. But the worst part is that, as soon as they're inside, everything… stops. Hundreds of eyes turn towards them, and Regina represses a shiver.

They have to parade through the room to get to the other side, apparently, and she feels watched, scrutinized, valued – at every step, but then they're there, and it lasted some seconds, but in her head it lasted years of torment.

After a moment of silence, the musicians wake up from their temporary coma, and restart playing, and everyone starts moving again. She still feels eyes on her, but keeps her chin up, hoping they will stop soon. After all, she's just a novelty, in this crystallized world, and they practically see money when they watch at her. No one will be kind to her because of her heart, here.

She holds on to Daniel's arm, and hopes this will be quick and painless.

°.°

"Do you dance, Miss Mills?"

Her eyes snap towards the voice, and she narrows them. "No, thank you," she says. It seems like she's saying a lot of thank you's tonight, whereas she would very much love to go home and curl up in her bed. And cry.

The way the man is looking at her is… unsettling. His eyes are blue like the sea, and she thinks that maybe she's been too quick in refusing him her hand for a dance.

But she knows who he is – who they all are, they've already been introduced, after all. The Locksleys. Mary has taken quite a shine to the eldest – David, she believes, with whom she's happily dancing right now. Her eyes are on Mary, cheeks red and eyes bright as David guides her through the dance steps.

She doesn't like it.

She doesn't like any of this – who knows if this David will be true to his word, if he will ever exchange the feelings Mary will have developed once this evening is over. She knows David's mother is around here somewhere, telling everyone how her David always wins everyone's hearts, how he's so kind and such a good catch for a woman. Regina swirls her cup of wine, lost in thoughts.

"Let's walk a little," Daniel tells her, after disentangling himself from an enthusiastic young woman. She gladly accepts – the corner of the room and the doors leading to other halls with be quieter, darker, maybe they can dull her headache a little. All of this screaming is so annoying, so… fit for peasants.

"You haven't danced with Robin Locksley," Daniel says, once they've distanced themselves from the crowd.

"Your sister is dancing with the only pleasant man in the room," she tells him. "I've no interest in… any of this," she gestures towards the room. "You know it."

"Still, what was wrong with him?"

"He's barely… tolerable," she answers, after rolling a few adjectives around in her mind. "Not interesting enough to tempt me."

"Oh I see," Daniel snickers. "Oh, poor you. Are you sure you're not too fast of a judge of character?"

"I'm not like Mary," she replies, lowly. "You know I am beyond tired of people trying to set me up with anyone, just for the sake of seeing me married."

She averts her eyes from Daniel before he can answer, and sets them on the dancing couples. Here it is, Mr Locksley. David is dancing with Mary again, for what has to be the sixth time. And Robin – Robin is with some dull blonde, all smiles and kindness, and Regina frowns.

So he's like this with everyone? she thinks. Offering vivacity and that kind of contentment that comes from enjoying life at its fullest, not a care in the world. A sigh escapes her lips, before she can shake herself and resume her neutral expression.

°.°

Just when they're about to go, Daniel's gone to call their carriage, and Regina finds herself alone with Mary, who's bidding goodnight to David, and Robin.

"Did you have fun tonight, Miss Mills?" he asks, with that openness she both envies and is afraid of.

"I… spent a reasonably good time," she answers. Her eyes fall down, where her dress has been splashed of mud at its edge. Of course.

"I bet it's different from the balls in London, isn't it?" he tries again. Regina doesn't answer. "But I am sure that anyone could have a good time at a ball like this one," he continues. "The secret is keeping an open mind, to be incline to enjoy yourself and not to judge anyone from the first impression." She looks at him now – nothing, in his voice or tone, suggests he's upset.

But then, he surprises her. "Even if a particular someone is barely tolerable," he says. His smirk reaches his eyes, and she watches, paralyzed, as he bows his head in a curt movement and tells her, Goodnight, Miss Mills.

She is still as he leaves with his brother, follows his figure as he goes away, and doesn't listen to Mary's blabbering about the party and how her feet hurt.

God, she hates this place.