Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and any unrecognizable characters and dialogue.

For those of you that have asked, I may or may not be including more of the VK children in the future. As for what Evie looks like, she mostly resembles Evie from the movies, though her hair is more black than blue.

Seated in an alcove, taking in the warm winter sun and humming faintly to herself, Princess Evie continued to add finishing touches to the shimmering, sea-blue gown draped across her lap. Tossing her loose, black curls, she held the gown up, examining it with a critical eye. Satisfied that the embroidery was to her liking, she began to carefully put away her sewing supplies.

Across the hallway, half-hidden behind a pillar, Queen Regina watched her daughter carefully. While her precious daughter had always been a fairly happy child, there had been something different about her, something the Evil Queen couldn't quite put her finger on. Watching as he daughter stopped her work to stare longingly out the window, expression decidedly dreamy, alarm prickled across Regina's skin.

Decision made, she strode from her hiding place, heels clacking on the polished marble floor. "If I didn't know any better, my dear," she drawled, smiling faintly when her daughter startled, sending thread and sewing needles flying, "I'd say you were smitten."

Evie colored furiously, though Regina wasn't quite sure if it was from embarrassment or guilt. Muttering apologies, Evie slid from her seat to collect the errant sewing kit. Her mother watched, one carefully groomed eyebrow arched in silent question. While Regina wasn't quite wrong in her assessment, Evie would rather choke down a poisoned apple than admit to anything.

"It's nothing, mother." Evie whispered quietly, refusing to meet her mother's eye. Had she, the queen would no doubt catch her in her lie. "I am simply distracted, with the preparations for the ceremony. I promise."

She felt safe meeting her mother's gaze then; it wasn't a lie, after all. Mother had always said the best lies had a sprinkle of truth to them. Regina nodded, reaching down to gather her daughter's latest creation in her arms. Her painted lips curled into a wide, proud smile at the sight of the detailed work done to the gown that would put a master tailor to shame.

"You have no need to fret, my darling," Regina folded the gown over one arm and offered Evie her free one when the girl rose to her feet. "Such a beautiful gown will do wonders for your confidence. I should dismiss my tailors and have you craft my gowns for me."

Evie smiled widely at her mother's praise, all traces of nervousness forgotten. "You flatter me, mother." She teased as they walked through the halls, arm in arm. Servants and Black Knights bowed to their Queen and Princess, though their expressions were somber instead of cheerful.

Evie swallowed, unable to escape the knowledge that, while they might adore her, the people were terrified of her mother. And for good reason, she mused quietly, mood dampened. Though she had met him only a handful of times, Evie could never understand why her mother was so intent on studying beneath the Dark One. It also didn't help that, mere days after their father's death, her half-sister, Snow White, had been accused of murder and treason, forcing her to flee to the wilderness.

And now, at her mother's decree, Evie was to be named the Crown Princess and heir to the throne. Swallowing thickly, Evie nodded and smiled as her mother chattered lightly about the coronation and potential marriage plans. As they passed a wide set of windows, she found her gaze drawn to the distant sea, heart aching at the thought of the steely-eyed pirate that had stolen her heart.

Giggling lightly, Evie shifted her neck to the side. Her laughter turned into a faint sigh as Harry pressed his lips to the sensitive skin. Relaxing further into his grip, she twisted her head to catch his eye. He grinned back shamelessly. Sighing in contentment, Harry nuzzled his face into her neck. Smiling faintly, Evie continued to sketch a new design.

Harry watched her work in silence. When he finally did interrupt her, she was impressed at how long he managed to keep from chattering. "So, how was Girls' Night?"

Evie flicked eraser shavings at him. "It was just fine, thank you very much." Her lips twisted into a smirk. "Though, you showing up and dragging me out of the bar was a little too obvious, don't you think?"

His response was to fall backwards on the bed with a grin. Shaking her head, Evie returned her attention to the design. The design was a long, flowing dress with loose sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Honestly, it was more suited to a fairy tale than cavorting around Storybrooke. Stilling at the turn her thoughts had taken, Evie scowled and actually tossed the sketchbook across the room.

The clattering jolted Harry from his light doze. he sat up, raising a curious brow at her behavior. Ignoring him, Evie folded her knees to her chest, grabbed a pillow, and proceeded to scream into it. Alarmed and fully awake now, Harry carefully drew her unresistant form into his arms.

"Princess, what is it?" Evie buried her face into his shoulder. She shouldn't let this bother her, shouldn't even consider that Henry's stories were true. Somehow, the idea of giving voice to the strange dreams that had plagued her made it all seem terribly real. "Evie," Harry drew back, brows creased in concern, "please tell me. I only wan' ta help ye."

"I don't think you can." She replied, tears of frustration pricking at her eyes. "The dreams - ever since Emma showed up, they've only gotten worse. I keep seeing scenes from Henry's book - even ones I've never read before!"

Overcome, she buried her face into her hands, shuddering. It couldn't be true. It couldn't! If Henry was right, then her mother had murdered countless people - had tried to murder Harry! - all because of a secret she'd entrusted to a naive ten year old. Breathing heavily, she didn't fight as he drew her from her hiding spot.

"And what if it's true?" He asked, not for the first time. And, like all the other times, Evie didn't have an answer for him. "What if Henry's stories are all true?"

Heartbroken by the thought, Evie lowered her hands to grip his so tightly their rings cut into flesh. Her hand trembled when she raised it, pressing it against Harry's chest. Beneath his shirt, she felt the faint, steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I don't know, Harry. I don't know."

Thoughts? Comments? Questions?