A/N: Holy time travel, Batman! How did a week go by so fast? Must have been all that grading and reading I was doing, possibly the fact that I stayed up all night long at least two nights. Ugh. But on the other hand this chapter is one of my favorite things I've written, all-time. I really think it's something special, so read on, my friends, and be sure to let me know if you think so too.

XxXx

Emma stalked down the palace halls, going nowhere and getting there fast. Her hands itched, and she was tempted to head down to the training field and take her frustrations out on some poor, over-matched soldier, but she knew she was expected at dinner in the near future. There was no way she could duck out on a formal occasion. Not now. Maybe not ever.

It would be better, really, if her father wasn't right. She understood him. She wished she didn't.

She hadn't, that night he'd taken her aside when she was twelve and explained to her why she'd always been given swords instead of dolls, why her playmates had been carefully selected and screened and never stuck around too long. Why 'Emma' was a name only used behind closed doors. That there must always be a king, a law set down in the great chain of being long before the birth of any kingdom in this land.

That night, her mother had died giving birth to her sister and Emma had begun – almost, maybe, not quite – to understand the trap she was in.

It was in the blood that pounded in her veins even as she entered her rooms and tore off her riding clothes. It was her destiny, her father's destiny, the destiny of Kings stretching back in an unbroken line to the mists of creation. To be King was to live your life in the service of your subjects. To seek nothing more than the happiness of all who set foot in your kingdom. To be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat. To die for the realm. And, if necessary, to kill for it. To kill friends. To kill family.

The life of one for the good of many.

Emma splashed some blissfully cold water on her face and began to prepare for dinner.

XxXx

Regina regarded herself in the mirror, deadly still as the handmaiden dressed her in her new gown, a monstrosity of Pomona green silk with white slashes. Her mother had sent it to her earlier, after their discussion, with a note that identified it as a 'wedding present.' The green highlighted her red lips and brown eyes, the white setting her skin off to perfection. She hated it immediately.

Her stomach roiled as she remembered the light flirtations she had shared with Emmett earlier in the day. The gentle, nearly innocent gestures of a young woman growing into her sexuality seemed tainted by the military maneuvers she was now expected to perform.

Soon, though, the maid's gentle murmuring woke her from her reverie and she realized it was time to make her way to the great hall.

Emmett met her at the door, a certain tightness around his eyes and mouth suggesting that the talk with his father had gone about as well as her own with her mother. Regardless, when he smiled at her it was genuine and she took his arm with no hesitation. His presence comforted her, and Regina reminded herself that there were worse things in life than trying to forge a relationship with a kind, handsome prince. Much worse things.

The dinner, as it turned out, was nearly on that list. King Leopold dominated the conversation almost immediately with talk of politics, and for once Regina was glad that she was expected to stay silent at these functions. She wouldn't have had anything to say, anyway, and this way she was able to amuse herself with a whispered story to Snow about the Dahu, an animal that lived in the mountains.

"They say it always walks around the mountain in the same direction, so that its legs are shorter on one side to make walking easier. Whenever the hunters go to capture one, they just sneak up behind it and make a loud noise, and when it jumps around to see what's going on it loses its balance and tumbles down the mountain."

The little girl laughed happily and clapped her hands, drawing all eyes to their side of the table. Regina flushed hotly under the attention, but Snow seemed to take it as her due.

"Daddy! Regina told me about the little Dahu! Can we have one, please? Can we?"

Leopold raised an eyebrow at Regina but was clearly amused by his daughter's antics.

"'May we,' dear." Regina corrected.

"I suppose we can look into it for your birthday. If you leave your new sister alone to enjoy her dinner in peace." Leopold cut his eyes to his son, then leaned nearer to Cora. "Your daughter is wonderful with the girl; I'm sure she'd make a fine mother some day."

Cora preened under the attention, as if the complement had been directed towards her alone. In her mind, it probably had.

Next to her, Regina could feel Emmett's body stiffen and she laid her hand on his thigh, rubbing her thumb in small circles. She was equal parts thrilled and terrified by the small, whispering sigh that left his lips at the touch, though he did not relax. The conversation passed to other topics, and the dinner ended soon without further incident.

Emmett accompanied her to her rooms that night, looking for all the world like a doting, attentive husband. Regina had warned the maids in halting words that she was not to be disturbed tonight. They had left tittering like chickens after that; whatever they thought was going to happen was probably good for her image, at any rate.

"Stay, my Prince."

His eyes narrowed. "I thought we'd gotten past that."

Regina brought a hand up to his neck, playing with the soft blonde hair at the nape. "Em. Stay with me tonight."

I – I can't." He jerked away from her touch like a frightened rabbit and Regina suddenly had no idea what to do. "Please. I can't."

"Why? I may be naive in many things but I know this is not how a husband is supposed to act with his wife!" Regina did not take rejection well and the tension she had felt all night, the fear of this moment, was quickly winding itself towards anger. "Is there someone else? Or perhaps you don't like women at all. Perhaps you prefer men." She had heard of such things, stories the servants snickered over in low voices when they thought no one was listening.

XxXx

A near-hysterical giggle tore its way from Emma's throat. Prefer men? When Regina's dark eyes were flashing and her throat was flushed and her chest was heaving with passion? When it was all she could do not to ravish her wife on the nearest horizontal surface? When what she truly wanted was to feel the other woman's hands tracing her body, molding its curves and planes and making it real, to lose herself in the illusion that Emma was more than just a voice in her own head? Prefer men?

She must have been the Dark One in a past life. There was no other explanation for such torture.

Somehow, through self-preservation or training or simply pure shock, Emma managed to pull herself together.

"No. Definitely not a man, although there's no woman, either. And don't worry. I wouldn't embarrass you like that."

"I didn't mean -"

"Yes, you did. It's okay though." Emma sighed. "Love is...it's never something I've looked for. Never something I expected to have. I would appreciate a – a friend. Not that I don't love my sister, but someone my own age to talk to. How about a compromise? I'll come to your room at night and we'll talk or read or figure out whatever friends do. The castle gossip mill will take care of the rest. I'll be the perfect husband, I promise."

His green eyes were pleading and Regina suddenly felt tired. Tired, and weak, and her mother would be far away soon, and she didn't have the strength to push for more from him tonight.

"Friends, then."