1 – REGINA
Sitting in front of the mirror in my bed chambers, I watch my reflection stare back at me, a hint of a smile playing in the corner of my lips.
Harsh cold wind is sipping through the window, the stone walls of my bed chamber are as cold as ice, and the fire burning in the fireplace barely keeps any warmth inside.
And still...
I can't avoid the smile gracing my lips.
I honestly fear that smile will never leave my lips and I can not say that bothers me. Not when the reason for that smile is the only thing that makes my heart sings.
The only thing that keeps me sane.
The only reason why I can endure all my royal duties, duties that seem to be getting worse with every rise of a new day.
If only this burden was of any use to me, to the people we are supposed to protect, and to the children dying in the alleys out of abandonment, starvation, and cold.
Children of royals who refused to acknowledge they have bedded a whore.
At least if I was allowed to learn about science, politics, economy, and battle strategies, then maybe my royal duties wouldn't seem like such a burden.
But I was not born a man.
I was born a woman.
And as the Princess of the North of the Enchanted Forest, my royal duties summed up to the ridiculous amount of etiquette classes where I learn about cutlery, glasses, and china.
Ball dances and dresses.
Find a husband that one day will rule over my rightful lands.
Except, for the part where I will never marry a man.
I will never let an outsider rule over what is mine by right. No matter how much Mother insists on it, I will never take a husband.
No matter how many suitors she introduces me to, I will continue to decline them all.
I am only a few months away to turn eighteen years of age and when that happens, the crown will be mine.
It is our law.
My great-great-grandfather, Henry the First changed the laws of our lands, stating a new King or Queen must rise at the age of eighteen to attend to the needs of the new generation.
To answer the claims of the people who are the future of our realm.
This is why many of our ancestors delayed giving birth to a child, fearing losing the crown when they come of age.
I am a perfect example of that.
I was born much, much later than the women usually give birth to in our kingdom.
A blessing from Gods, they called me.
But the truth was that my parents were just delaying having an heir so they could rule over these lands.
Because now that I am nearing eighteen years of age, Mother and Father must step down and I shall become Queen.
The Queen in the North.
The sole heir of these lands.
Freedom will finally, finally be in my hands.
And when that happens, I will take the one my heart truly desires.
The only one I have ever loved and will only ever love until the day I die.
I will change the rules of this broken Kingdom, rules old and ancient made by bitter men.
I will stop the corruption that rots our streets, this castle.
I will turn this land into something good.
Something I can be proud of.
Something my people will want to defend with their last breath.
I'll make the crown once again worthy of their sacrifice.
And then we all shall live in peace until…
Until…
The heavy sound of metal outside my bed chambers doors pulls me out of my thoughts.
My smile widens as I stare at the mirror, watching the door being pushed open, my heart already running furiously inside my chest.
But as soon as my smile grows it shirks back into a thin line when I see who enters my chambers.
Mother.
Dawn had barely risen but Mother was already impeccably dressed, queenly and regal, and of course with disapproving eyes when her stare meets mine in the mirror.
"Why are you not dressed yet?" Mother asks.
I smile at her, a smile that is as forced as that weak attempt of a fire in the fireplace trying to warm my chamber.
"Good morning, Mother," I say solemnly.
"Where is your maid?" Mother asks "Why hasn't she dressed you yet and made your hair?"
I sigh, throwing a lock of hair behind my shoulder.
"Emma went down to the kitchens to see if one of the maids had washed and pressed my velvety blue dress," I say taking the brush from the vanity and running it over my hair.
It had barely reached half of the lock before it stuck between the knots of my curls.
Mother walks behind me, sighing heavily before hastily taking the brush from my hand, and forcing it down the rest of my hair. The movement pulls on my scalp and my head bends backward, a sharp pain running and spreading over my head but I don't dare say a word or show any signs of discomfort.
"Why is your hair so knotty?" Mother asks "Dindt that girl brushed your hair before bed?"
"Yes, she did, Mother," I say, biting my cheeks when she forces the brush down on another knotty lock "I must have turned a lot in bed while sleeping"
Mother finally gives up brushing my hair, throwing the brush on top of the vanity making some of my jewelry fall on the floor.
Long ago I used to jump every time she did that.
Now, I barely react at all.
"We need a more competent staff," Mother says, disdain sipping from her words "I never liked your friendship with that girl we should never have allowed it to go this far. She is nothing more than an incompetent peasant"
I bent down to retrieve the brush from the floor, regret washing over me the second my fingers closes around the brush.
I can feel Mother's disapproval burning in the back of my head as if the simple act of picking up something from the floor was below our royal standers.
"I have known Emma since we were children," I say "She is the only one I trust"
"Please, Regina, you are not that young anymore, you can't possibly be so naïve," Mother says, walking around my chambers "That girl would never be anything more than a kitchen maid if she was lucky, a prostitute if the Gods decided to be cruel. An orphan who was left on our doorsteps and instantly made friends with you"
Mother walks behind me again, pulling my hair to the side and then lowering her chin onto my shoulder.
"At least she has ambition, and I do admire that," Mother says lowly, her breath making my spine go rigid "But she is not your friend, she is not someone you can trust. She is nothing but a low peasant who wormed her way into our castle and now has the status of the Princess's personal maid"
The doors of my bed chamber pull open again and both Mother and I turn our heads in the direction of the door.
I see Emma entering my chambers a smile dying on her lips the second she eyes Mother behind me.
"Your Majesty," Emma says solemnly, bowing in courtesy as her eyes glued to the floor.
I can see how Mother takes joy in watching her in submission, the gleam in her eyes is unmistakable.
A moment passes before Mother gesture with her hand, boredom adorning her posture.
"You may rise," Mother says.
Emma rises to her full height and walks to my bed, putting the dresses she was carrying on top of the mattress.
Mother walks in her direction and Emma immediately takes a step back while looking down.
She doesn't dare meet Mother's eyes and I wonder why every ruler decides to rule by imposing fear instead of, well anything but.
The people shouldn't fear their rulers.
But then again, I shouldn't fear my parents.
Mother inspects the dresses Emma brought up and not a bone in my body is surprised when she decides none of them are worth it.
Not even the velvety blue dress I so wanted to wear today. With the cold outside, at least that dress makes me feel cozy and warm.
But mother seems to be in one of her moods today as she walks to the chest in front of the bed. She throws dress after dress after dress on the floor and I know she is doing it so with the sole purpose of making Emma have to put everything neatly inside again.
She hates Emma with the same intensity as I…
"This one," Mother says.
And of course, the dress she chose was the one I keep on the back of my chest to make sure it's not reachable.
I hate that golden and white dress with the tight bodice and fabric that scratches my arms.
"Dress her in this one today, dear," Mother says.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Emma says, her eyes still on the floor.
Mother turns her head to look at me, her chin up and eyes cold.
"You'll have breakfast with your father and me this morning," Mother says before turning her head to Emma "Do not make her late any more than she already is, and do something about that knotty hair"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Emma says.
With one final look at Emma and then at me, Mother leaves my chambers.
The sigh of relief that escapes both mine and Emma'slips when the doors are closed behind her is almost touchable in the air.
"I will not wear that dress," I say, pointing at the white dress on my bed.
"Your Majesty, please," Emma says "Your mother is in an eerie mood this morning. Do not provoke her any further"
"She chose that dress because she knows I hate it," I say "It itches my skin and…"
"And it makes it impossible for you to breathe," Emma finishes for me "I'll knot the bodice as loose as I can"
"Fine," I sigh, knowing there is no room for argument against my mother's will.
Emma walks close to me, her hand pulling the nightgown I'm wearing. Every inch that slips up reveals my bare skin underneath, the cold wind kissing every inch until nothing but goosebumps covers my body.
Until I stand bare in front of her.
"Gods," Emma breathes out.
I smile at her smugly, arching a brow.
"Are you just going to look?" I ask "Or are you finally going to…"
The rest of my sentence along with my breath dies on my tongue when Emma crashes her lips with mine.
My bare skin rubs against the rough fabric of her maid dress, which is an incredible contrast considering how soft her bare skin is.
The day has barely risen and I'm already looking forward to dusk, for Emma's naked form on my bed, for my hands and tongue tracing her beautiful soft skin.
For her pleasure to reach its peak and having her pouring just for me.
Emma breaks the kiss, her breathing as ragged as mine. Her chest is moving up and down and I am both hypnotized and jealous of how tight her corset is pressing her breast together.
If anyone dares look her away, I will have their head.
"We should get you to dress up," Emma says "Your mother is waiting"
I nodded at her, knowing Mother will have my head regardless.
Emma walks to my bed and picks up the dress, pulling on the front straps of the bodice.
The dress itself is quite beautiful, all white with long vertical golden strips on each side that goes from the collar of the dress all the way down to the hem.
But that dress Mother had it made for me when I first turned sixteen and she wished to marry me off to a Prince of another realm.
We had richness, they had ships.
The marriage would be profitable to the crown.
That was the first time I realized I was nothing but merchandise.
By pure luck, the man was found drunk in a brothel with his pants pooled around his feet.
Luck and the herbs Emma and I poured into his drink and the girl we paid greatly to make a scandal no one would ever forget.
Walking to the chest under the window, I open the lid and reach for a silky nightgown. The freezing cold wind blowing inside crawls under my skin as I slid inside the camisole, the fabric gently caressing my skin.
I sigh as I wish to be inside that nightgown under the sheets.
Or maybe with nothing but Emma's naked skin covering mine.
Emma walks closer and then kneels at my feet with the dress open. I hold her shoulder and then slid one leg and then the other inside before she pulls it up my body.
Once the dress is on me, Emma starts to pull on the strands of the bodice, my ribs already threatening to pierce my lungs.
I take a deep breath and hold it inside, barely being able to release it when I exhale.
"Sorry," Emma says "I'll loosen up some more"
I smile at her my nails already scratching my arm.
That damn dress is made of tiny needles inside.
But being truthful to her word, Emma does lose the strands of the bodice and I can pull air into my lungs easily.
And surprisingly enough, when I look at myself in the mirror, not a single strand of the bodice is out of order or even looking recklessly knotted.
"How do you do that?" I ask.
"Magic," She winks an eye at me.
I smile at her before sitting down on the chair for Emma to do my hair.
She brushes my hair gently, patiently untying the knots she made the night before.
"How do you want to use your hair today?" Emma asks.
"You choose," I say, looking at her in the mirror.
She lowers her head and kisses my cheek softly.
I wish I could be here with her all day.
Emma braids my hair, from the top of my head, her hands working gently as she passes each lock over the other.
The braid ends in the middle of my back and Emma pulls some strands of hair from the top of my ear, rolling the lock around her finger until it falls into a perfect curl.
"You are ready," Emma says, putting her hand over my shoulder.
"Thank you," I say, reaching for her hand.
"I'm your maid," Emma says "I'm only doing my duty"
I turn my body on the chair to face Emma, but she avoids looking at me.
"You are not my maid," I say.
Emma scoffs and pulls her hand away, but I pull her back.
"Okay, you are my maid," I say, swallowing the knot that started to form in my throat "But I do not see you as such. You know I love you, Emma"
Emma moistens her lips and nods once.
When she pulls her hand again, I let her go.
"You should go downstairs before your mother finds a way to punish me for your tardiness," Emma says.
"Emma…"
"I'll clean the room while you are gone," Emma says.
She walks to the bed, pulling on the sheets.
And despite my will to stay, I walk away from my chambers.
I do not wish Mother to punish Emma either.
I can't even consider spending a night away from her.
A moment later, I walk inside our dining room.
The table is set with far more food than the three of us could ever consume in just one meal, bread, cheese, and even out-of-season fruits cover the table from nearly one side to the other.
Mother sits beside Father this morning, her eyes meeting mine the second I walk in.
Father sees me a moment later, and Mother's face immediately changes from disapproving with a hint of annoyance to a beautiful smile that almost makes me take a step back.
It is strange to see her smiling like that when we are not inside a ballroom with nobles below us whom I can not bring myself to care about.
They would all jump on a chance to destroy us and assume our position.
I do not believe for a second we could call them allies.
At best, they are the perfect definition of keeping your enemies close.
"Regina, my darling girl"
Father smiles at me and pushes the chair back. He walks in my direction and pulls me into a hug and I shamelessly let myself fall into his arms.
It has been far too long since I last saw him.
"Daddy," I say affectionally.
My father, King Henry Mills the Fifth, has always been much more loving than Mother ever was.
And also, more distant.
He always turned his head when Mother punished me and then came up to comfort my broken heart when he could have prevented it from breaking, to begin with.
Still…
I always craved his love as much as I craved Mother's.
I still do.
"Come on my darling, sit down," Father says "What took you so long to come down here, Princess?"
"What do you think, Henry?" Mother says, her tone harsh as she tores a small piece of bread "That incompetent girl you have insisted on befriending our daughter with"
"It wasn't Emma's fault," I sigh, suppressing the will to roll my eyes.
In all reality, it was Emma's fault just as much as it was mine.
I could not let go of her naked warm body beside mine under the sheets and if it wasn't for her reasoning with me, I'd still be there with her on this cold awful morning.
Here is something else I crave.
The day Emma and I can be together forever.
Soon.
I sit beside my father, across from Mother, and reach for a piece of crispy bacon and hard cheese.
Mother looks at me, disapproving of my choice of food even though she is drenching her bread in butter.
"So, Daddy," I say "How was your trip to the south lands?"
"Oh, Princess," Father says with a huge smile on his lips "It was wonderful, my darling. I believe this trip will bring so many profitable benefits to our realm"
"Oh, really?" I ask, his smile brightening my heart "What kind of benefits?"
"Regina, please," Mother says annoyed "This is none of our concern"
"It is mine," I say defiant but something inside me shrinks when Mother glares at me "I am to become Queen in only a few months"
"She is right, Cora," Father says "As soon as Regina reaches eighteen years of age we are to step down from our position"
"These laws are ridiculous," Mother sighs heavily "Age does not qualify a child to become a Queen. Marriage does"
"Would you think the same if I was a man?" I ask, anger simmering low in my belly.
"If you were a man, yes," Mother says not an ounce of doubt shining behind her eyes "But I was not fortunate with one"
"Well, I am truly sorry to have disappointed you yet again, Mother," I say.
I fight back the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes. I don't know why I still care about what she thinks of me.
Mother clears her throat and looks at Father, smiling again as if I was nothing more than an annoying bug she had to dismiss.
"I shall start making all the arrangements for the King in the South ball," Mother says "But I do wish I had more time to prepare for it. A week is a very short time"
"We are throwing a ball for the south lands King?" I ask, curiosity taking the best of me.
"Yes, Princess," Father says seriously "The King is traveling North with his court to seal the deal we made"
"And what is this deal again?" I ask.
"Regina, that's enough," Mother slams her fist on the table.
And this time my eyes actually widen when I look at her.
"Go to your morning lessons, you are already late as it is," Mother says, trying to control her tone.
"But I'm not done eating yet," I say, my plate still barely eaten.
And my stomach rumbling with hunger.
"You are now," Mother says "Go to your etiquette lessons and please, do try and pay attention to them"
I look at Father, waiting for him to defend me, but his eyes are more preoccupied with another piece of bacon and another serving of eggs.
I push the chair back, anger controlling every movement as I throw the napkin from my lap on top of my plate and leave the dining room.
My classes drag on for hours and hours with only two breaks to eat.
The dress itches my skin terribly, my tutor is boring as a cold hell and my mind keeps wandering on and on and on back to Emma.
I so wish I could be with her today, just sharing the same air as her.
Just having her near, reading to me.
But apart from a small glance at her when she brought lunch to the study chamber, I don't see her at all through the day.
Mother made sure both of us were busy, enough to not see each other.
Dusk comes as a miracle.
I am so incredibly tired from the day, my head is buzzing with a headache in my left eye.
I walk to my chambers, ready to strip myself from this awful dress, ready to see Emma again, share supper with her and then let her bathe me.
But when I open the doors to my chambers, my heart breaks.
Emma is there, placing our supper on the small table near the window, the fire on the other side of the room burning hot enough to warm the once-cold chamber.
The sight of her should have brought me joy except that she that looks terrible, her features are exhausted, her cheeks smeared black.
"Your Majesty," Emma says solemnly and bows in front of me.
She lifts her dress with one hand and I can see the rip on the hem.
"Emma, what happened?" I ask concerned, closing the doors behind me.
"Nothing," Emma says "The hot water is already in the tub, you should get inside before it gets cold"
Emma walks in my direction, her eyes fixed on the door.
"But I will run down to the kitchen and bring a couple of more buckets of hot water to make sure it doesn't"
Emma reaches for the door handle but I put myself in front of her, preventing her to take another step.
"Regina, please," Emma says, exhaustion sipping from her words.
"It was Mother wasn't it?" I ask simply.
Emma doesn't answer but she doesn't have to.
Her eyes always told me more than words ever could.
I put my hand on her dirty cheek and Emma closes her eyes, leaning into my touch.
It only lasts a second or so before she opens her eyes again and clears her throat.
"I'll go fetch more water," Emma says.
"No," I say back, reaching for her hand.
I pull Emma with me to my bathing chambers, her callous hand a comfort against mine.
I recognize her touch, the roughness of her hand proof of how unfair my realm is to her.
Or at least my Mother.
We enter my bathing chambers, the steam from the tub dancing in the air.
Emma moves in front of me, reaching for the straps of my bodice but once again I stop her by placing my hand on top of hers.
"I want to bathe you tonight," I say.
"What?" Emma asks confuse.
I walk around her, stopping behind her back. I gather her beautiful blonde hair between my hands and gently move them over her shoulder before kissing her neck softly.
"What are you doing?" Emma asks.
I don answer her.
Instead, I undo the knot of her bodice and then pull on the straps until it loses.
Throwing the bodice gently on the floor I pull open the small buttons on the back of her dress one by one until it falls down her shoulder, down her waist, and finally, down her legs.
Wrapping my hands around her waist, I lift the nightgown she is wearing underneath the dress. I pull up the nightgown inch by inch, revealing her beautiful soft skin slowly.
Emma lifts her arms and I slid the nightgown off her body.
Once bared, I run my fingers down her spine and kiss her shoulder.
"Get in the water," I say softly.
"It's for you," Emma says back.
"Not tonight,"
Emma turns to me, and I kiss her lips gently before pulling away.
She enters the water, her moan of satisfaction reaching a very indecent part of mine. But I ignore the tingle for now because tonight, for once, I want to be the one who cares for Emma.
I roll up the sleeve of my dress, my skin grateful when that terrible fabric is no longer scratching and itching me.
At least now that I wore it once, Mother won't make me put it on again any time soon.
I sit on the stool by the tub and then reach for the soap and the small bucket before filling it with clean water.
"Tilt your head back," I say.
Emma does as told and I gently wet her hair before washing it, massaging her scalp the same gentle way she always does to mine.
A moment passes with silence greeting us.
But I am more than content to just stay here caring for her.
"Thank you," Emma whispers.
My heart nearly breaks again when a tear falls from the corner of her closed eyes.
So I do the only thing I can.
I kiss her cheeks and continue to wash her, her body relaxing at my touch.
I let her stay in the tub until the water gets cold, grey, and foamy.
When she is finally ready to leave the tub, I dry her body kissing every inch of dry and wet skin my lips can reach.
We eat supper together in my bed chamber and then snuggle under the sheets once our stomachs are full.
Emma falls asleep in my arms while my fingers run over her wet hair, exhaustion claiming her to the world of slumber.
I should do the same.
But for now, I'm more than content to feel her weight on top of my body and her breath tickling my skin.
For now, I just want to have her for myself before dawn breaks the night again and I am forced to let go of her for my ridiculously royal duties.
Hi, everyone!
Welcome to my new fic.
I hope you all enjoy reading this new story as much as I am enjoying writing it.
Comments are always welcome, so let me know what you all think :D