Regina stands at the end of the hall, her eyes fixed on the old grandfather clock at the opposite end, almost as though trying to will its hands to move. She'd never been very good at being patient or waiting things out—and when she told Roland she'd allow him some time and space, she'd meant that… at least in theory.

But following through on her promise was easier said than done.

Roland couldn't wallow forever. Pouting wouldn't change anything, and the sooner he accepted it, the better it would be for all of them—or at least that's what Robin had to say about it.

She, on the other hand, sort of understood.

Change was a difficult thing to accept, and over the course of the last few years, Roland had accepted a lot of change without complaint. He'd accepted a new mother and brother, he'd started school lessons, and left the home where he was born and lived for his whole life. Of course, he viewed those changes to be positives—and truly, they were for everyone involved—but lately, the changes had slowed. Things had calmed down and Roland settled into their new life. He was content with it. He was happy.

And she understood that.

After all, it'd taken her years to warm up to the idea of having another child.

Her first pregnancy had been an incredibly traumatic experience and though her life was very different than it'd been then, there was an underlying sense of worry that somehow this pregnancy would go terribly awry or unearth memories she'd buried long ago. She imagined it was likely the same for Roland, and she imagined that he was likely too young to understand that.

Holding her breath, she starts to take a step forward, watching as the minute hand shifts to the six, indicating that a half an hour has passed—and indicating that enough time has passed for her to peek into Roland's room to check on him.

Making her way down the hall, she considers what she can say—something she's done for the past half an hour and something she still doesn't have a plan for—but then, conversations like this one are hard to plan.

Her knuckles rasp against the door as she turns the knob with her other hand, peeking in and putting on a smile. "Hey, you," she says in a voice that's warm and soft as her eyes fall to Roland, laying on his back and gazing absently out the window as he holds Bruni the Blue Dragon close. "Can I come in?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Is Papa mad?"

"No," she replies, biting down on her lip. Robin wasn't mad, but he was disappointed. "He's not mad."

"Are you sure? He looked mad."

"I think he was just… surprised by your reaction to our news."

At that, Roland doesn't reply and she takes it as her cue to continue.

"I know this is… a lot to take in," she begins, crossing the room toward the bed, "and there's a lot of uncertainty around it, a lot of questions…"

Roland turns his head to look at her as she reaches the bed. "I don't have very many questions."

"Aside from whether or not you can swap out your baby brother or sister for a puppy."

A smirk pulls onto her lips as Roland frowns. "Papa already said no to that, so it isn't really a question anymore."

"And I'm going to have to agree with him on that," she adds as she sits down on the edge of Roland's bed. "But you know, you might end up liking a baby sibling."

"I don't know," Roland says hesitantly as he looks back to the window.

"That's just it—you don't know." Taking a breath, she tries to collect her thoughts and figure out where to go next. She doesn't want to scare him with her suspicions, nor does she want to interject her own worries about her pregnancy. "Can you keep a secret?"

Roland doesn't reply, but he nods and rolls onto his side.

"You remember Zelena, right?"

His eyes widen and his nose scrunches. "Why are you asking me that?" A little laugh bubbles out of her as Roland sits up. "She's not… she's not coming to visit or…"

"No, no, no. She's not coming here."

"Good."

"I'll say."

At that, Roland smiles at the moment of solidarity between them. "Well, the reason it's a secret is… well, in part, I've never told anyone, but also because I don't want it getting out to too many people."

"I won't tell."

"Not even Henry?"

Roland nods. "Not even Henry or Toulouse."

Resisting the urge to laugh, she nods and maintains a serious composure as she picks a relatable starting point. "Well, now that that's established," she begins. "When I was about your age, Zelena came to live with my family."

"Why?"

"Her mother died and she needed a place to go, or… at least that's what I was told. But, um… what I didn't know then was that… well, she came to live with my family because she's my sister."

Again, Roland's eyes widen. "I can see why you don't want that getting around. Having Zelena as a sister is pretty embarrassing."

Regina nods. "She wasn't always terrible, that came later."

His brows arch up and his head tips to the side. He doesn't look convinced. "Oh… right."

She laughs gently. "When my father told me that she was going to be living with us… I didn't want her to."

"Because she's really awful."

"No, I just… I had trouble picturing it, you know? I couldn't imagine what it'd be like to have another girl living in my house, playing with my toys and riding my horse. My mother and I have always had a complicated relationship and I worried that she'd like Zelena more—"

"Did she?" he's quick to ask—and she wonders if they might be getting somewhere.

"Sometimes it felt that way," she murmurs slowly, hesitating and she remembers it—remembering how critical Cora could be of them both. For a time, she'd liked that some of that criticism fell to Zelena, but then there were other times when she felt guilty over it. "It depended on the situation, really."

"Oh…"

"But what I was really concerned about, I realized, was that I would have to share my father's attention."

"Did you?"

"Sometimes, but… he was better at juggling us than my mother was."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he was just… good about making sure both of us were always included. If he took us into town, we both got to do something we wanted to do or we both got a treat." She smiles, thinking back to all the times he took her and Zelena to the tavern and bought them each big glasses of raspberry cordial, letting them sit at the bar while he had a mug of ale and played a round of darts. "And I'm not sure when it happened, but one day I realized that I liked having a sister… or well, someone who was like a sister."

"I thought she was your sister."

"She is, but I didn't know that until much later in life."

"Oh, right…"

"And you might find out that you actually end up liking having a little sibling."

Roland's lips press together and his eyes cast downward. He still looks unconvinced. "Maybe."

A grin pulls onto her lips as she reaches out and lifts Roland's chin. "Exactly. Maybe. You don't know whether it'll be a good change or a bad one, so there's really no use in sulking about it right now." Drawing in a breath, she rubs her thumb underneath his chin. "And I have to say, you are handling this better than I handled things when I found out Zelena was going to come live with me."

At that, he looks up at her, his eyes curious. "Wh-what did you do?"

"I ran away," she says, chuckling softly at how dramatic she'd been and the production she'd made of lugging her trunk down from the attic, making a housemaid help her stuff it with her favorite dresses and toys, and talking about her plan as loudly as she could in hopes of catching her father's attention and making him reconsider. "To the stables."

"I thought about running away."

Her chest tightens at that admission. "Why didn't you?"

"There aren't very many doors in this house," he tells her, frowning up at her. "You and Papa would have seen me go out the front door, and Mrs. Beakley is peeling potatoes for a stew by the backdoor."

A little laugh escapes her and she nods, deciding not to tell him how she used to escape her bedroom at Dragon Head by knotting linens together and lowering herself out of her window. "Well, thank goodness for that," she says instead. "I'd have been absolutely beside myself if you'd gone missing."

"You would have?" Roland asks in a little voice—and when she nods, a lopsided little grin pulls up at the corner of his mouth.

"Of course I would have. Your papa would have been, too."

Roland takes a breath. "I don't know. Papa looked really mad."

"He's not mad—and even if he were mad, that wouldn't mean that he wouldn't worry about you if you ran away."

Momentarily, he considers that and offers a half-hearted smile—then, he looks back at her. "Have we completely ruled out getting a puppy?"

At that, she can't help but laugh—and as Roland grins up at her, his dimples sinking into his cheeks and his eyes glittering, she gets the impression that he'll be over this before long. "I'll tell you what," she murmurs, leaning in and letting her voice fall to a whisper as she offers him a wink, "I think by this point I've learned never to say never."