"Mom, can you please just tell me where we're going?" Clara whined as Emily dragged her along the streets of Storybrooke by her hand. When Emily had shown up at Clara and Henry's hotel room that morning, she'd practically been vibrating with excited energy, though she refused to say why, merely insisting that Clara get dressed and come with her.
"Not yet," Emily insisted, grinning entirely too widely to be innocent. "I told you, it's a surprise."
"Just a clue?" she wheedled. She batted her lashes in her best approximation of puppy dog eyes. "Please?"
Emily just shook her head. "Nice try, but I invented that look. It might work on Henry – and your father – but I'm immune."
Clara pouted. "Fine," she muttered. She didn't get the chance to whine further, though, because Emily had come to a stop outside a gleaming shop window filled with gorgeous handmade dresses in a rainbow of hues. Clara glanced from the window to Emily, then back. "This is the surprise?" she asked skeptically.
"Not quite," she said, pushing the door open even though the sign said that it was closed. "Beth?" she called out to the empty shop.
A brunette emerged from the back of the shop wearing a brilliant smile and a sweet little red polka-dotted dress reminiscent of something right out of the fifties. She wrapped Emily in an embrace, then turned to Clara. "Oh, Em, she's beautiful," she declared, looking her up and down. "She looks just like Derek's mother."
Blushing slightly at the compliment, Clara shook Beth's proffered hand.
"Do you have the design?" Emily asked, apparently too eager to wait even a moment longer.
"Design for what?" Clara asked, confused, watching as Beth flipped through her sketchbook.
Emily's grin lit up her face. "For your wedding gown."
Clara raised a brow, confused. "Wedding gown?" she repeated. "Mom, I'm already married..."
"You're married in this world, but things are a little different in ours," she said gently. "You're the granddaughter of the King – in order to take the throne one day, you have to do things properly. You and Henry must be introduced as husband and wife in front of the Kingdom." She attempted a consoling smile. "Not to mention that you deserve a wedding dress that isn't cursed."
Clara groaned. "No more curses please..."
Emily laughed a little nervously. "I think once you see the design Beth and I came up with, you'll feel differently."
Beth handed Clara the sketchbook where she'd drawn up the design – a beautiful ivory gown with a full skirt and drop sleeves. Golden details adorned the bodice, reminiscent of Emily's ballgown worn the night Derek had first admitted his love for her.
"This... This is gorgeous," she whispered. She smiled gently first at Beth, then her mother. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for me."
"But?" Emily prompted, reading between the lines.
She sighed softly. "As beautiful as it is... Mom, I'm a ballerina. I dress like a princess for a living. I really don't need a gown like this."
Emily gently stroked Clara's hair away from her face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I wish I could give you what you want, but I just can't..."
Clara raised a brow. "Why not?"
"Because that's just not how things work. You need to be presented, to be crowned as Princess. You need a public wedding. It's the same for Henry."
"But..."
"I know, Clara, I know. This is all new to you, but it's...tradition. I wasn't a big fan of it either when I was young, but it's what you must do if you want to take the throne. I was just a simple country girl when I met your father and to rule by his side, I had to go through all the same things as you do."
Clara shook her head adamantly, seemingly struggling to keep her temper in check. "Yes, but you grew up in a different world than I did. You know all these rules and unspoken social conventions and I just don't. We had completely different lives and I'm not sure I'll ever truly belong here."
"You will," Emily insisted. "It's just going to take some time to get used to. You'll figure it out – I'll help you and Henry will too and..."
"Maybe I don't want to..." Clara whispered, barely audible at all.
Emily couldn't have looked more stunned if Clara had physically slapped her. For a few moments, she stood there, blinking numbly. Then, she stammered, "I... I think I need some fresh air. Excuse me." With that, she hurried from the shop, the little bell tinkling merrily at her departure.
"Mom..." Clara said, moving to follow her.
She didn't get very far, though, before Beth wrapped her fingers around her wrist, halting her movement.
"Let's give her a few minutes alone," she suggested gently.
Clara sighed heavily, staring down at the floor where she was scuffing the toe of her sneaker. "I finally find my parents and the first thing I do is break their hearts," she said, more to herself than to Beth. "Some daughter I am..."
"Parents are a funny thing," Beth said anyway. "They always want what's best for you, even if sometimes their opinion of what's best is a little different. They do it out of love. And if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that your parents love you so much – maybe more than any parent has ever loved their child..." She gently stroked a hand up and down Clara's back in a comforting gesture.
Clara chewed at her lip in thought. "So, you think I was too harsh on her?" she asked.
"That's not my place," she said. "Besides, I don't think I'm qualified to talk about the parent/child relationship, given my history with my step-mother..."
Clara's brows leapt up her forehead and she studied Beth for a few moments. "You're Snow White, aren't you?" she accused. "Is everyone here some kind of Princess?"
Beth laughed a little. "You'll get used to that..."