Moonrise -

"Why's there a moon now?" Roland asks, open face upturned.

Regina's straight from Snow's counsel when she passes them on the terrace, third monarch of three and mother without a son, and the moon is a slight white gibbous on a blue afternoon, barely noticeable and redundant - what it does it matter?

(But it is there, Regina thinks, though the sun burns so thoughtlessly sure and the moon shines better in darkness, it tries in daylight and that must mean something.)

"Maybe it wants to keep the sun company," the Thief says, eyes skittering from hers. "It needn't always shine alone."