#but ch2 is where that plan SOLIDIFIED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foxofthedesert · 6 years

Text

OGA: Ch2

Chapter 1 – Flames on the Horizon

From her seat at the head of a massive oaken table, Queen Regina smolders with tentatively restrained fury. She sweeps her eyes over the room, taking in a dozen familiar faces, all pinched with discomfort.

In a futile attempt to calm herself, she breathes slowly through her nostrils then averts her gaze to the banner draped across the far wall bearing her family crest. Once it was the black and silver of her father's house, a rearing stallion bearing a sword wielding cavalier. Five years ago she abandoned that link to a lineage she has as little use for as her fellow members do for her. Xavier's spawn hold her father in contempt to this day for allowing Cora's poison to spread unchecked through the kingdom, having banished him after his conniving wife took her schemes too far. Regina, naturally, was caught in the crossfire. She has not been welcome in her paternal ancestral lands since she was seven winters of age. The estrangement did not prevent her from shamelessly using her father's coat of arms as an additional means to solidify her hold on power after Leopold was treated to his just desserts. When marrying Red presented her an opportunity to finally erase the bitterness of being disowned by her royal grandfather and many uncles by founding a kindred all her own, she leapt at it. Together, she and Red designed a new coat of arms – upon a pitch sable background, a crimson crescent moon hung over a sprawling apple tree. A most fitting emblem for their new house, she thinks.

The walls of the council room, a sprawling stone-constructed space large enough to host a party of forty with ease, is decorated by twelve such crested banners. Each represents one of the houses belonging to the Council of Nobles, one of few carryover cabinets Regina did not disband upon assuming power. The council has diligently and wisely advised the monarchs of Misthaven for more than five hundred years, and she had seen no reason to hastily eliminate a body comprised of highly influential individuals that would only help her maintain control of her realm so long as she exerted the right amount of leverage over them. Since attaining and retained leverage is one of her specialties, they have been kept in check and thus served her well over the years. Mostly. And when they have failed in that, such as today, she does not hesitate to remind them of their place.

Other than the banners, the chamber boasts a row of thin rectangular windows set into shallow alcoves against the outer wall. All six are taller than they are broad with matching panes divided by exquisitely engraved brass. Pure, unfiltered light streams in through the clear glass, the crimson and black curtains tied off by thick golden cords. Were it night, the numerous gold-plated sconces containing fat beeswax candles would provide illumination along with the polished brass candelabras tucked into each corner of the room which feature inverted conical cups whose tops are fashioned in the shape of a many-bladed diadem.

The grand table at the center of the space, also rectangular in shape, is so thick and dense that it could likely survive a ceiling collapse. Spanning three quarters of the chamber, it dominates the area and provides ample room for councilors to spread out notation parchments along with various reports, ledgers, and reference tomes. Regina commissioned it a year after taking the throne, having disliked the old table, a perfect square that projected an equality between the nobility and the Crown she was unwilling to abide as her doddering former husband had. So enormous and heavy was the magnificent piece of furniture that it had to be brought in unassembled then painstakingly reconstructed and reinforced on site, which rendered the chambers unusable for a week. Encompassing the whole width and length of the midsection is the centerpiece, a master artwork fashioned by the most skilled jeweler in Misthaven. Formerly it was a giant onyx carving detailed with silver displaying the stallion and cavalier capped with transparent crystal. It was installed to provide a gleaming focal point punctuating the realm's extravagant wealth and did that job admirably for many years, stunning a plethora of dignitaries and royals from abroad. Having it replaced by another onyx carving with ruby representations of the new family coat of arms and similarly sealed with crystal cost a pretty penny. But the cost was worth it if only for Red's reaction upon getting her first glimpse of the finished product.

If only the memory of that moment was enough to curtail the steep spiral of frustration Regina is currently descending.

The dozen men and women assembled around the gargantuan table are currently holding her hostage, further fraying an already anorexic tether with each passing second. Their scheduled business was supposed to have concluded with the unanimous passage of security measures to bolster defenses near the border with Drakkenhall, where they are by far the weakest. Misthaven has a longstanding affiliation with that nation that she renewed upon usurping the throne, so there has been no need to reinforce the region until recently. Alarming rumblings have surfaced that a number of villages in Stefan's realm located close to Misthaven have been attacked by some unknown assailant. Excessive caution being far preferable to unanticipated disaster, she thought it wise to cover her bases in arranging reinforcements in the region. The council readily agreed.

To that end, she assured them that she would dispatch General Mulan to inspect the relevant outposts and would bestow upon the General whatever latitude, including the redistribution of troops from elsewhere, was necessary to shore them up. There is no one she trusts more to perform this task. That the council shares that opinion shows how adept Mulan is at her job. Since she was promoted to Chief Military Commander, she has greatly streamlined the deployment capacity of the realm's forces and has by all accounts doubled their combat effectiveness. The army has never been in as good a shape as it currently is. There is little doubt in her mind that under Mulan's capable leadership, the southern corps – previously left largely ignored at Regina's insistence, a potentially catastrophic mistake in hindsight – will be operating at peak efficiency in no time.

The reason for her poor mood has nothing to do with the potentially dangerous state of the southern region and everything to do with having looked forward to retiring early for once. With Red having decided to delay until tomorrow her plans to visit Waldeck, the densely populated town located around the base of the mountain the Dark Palace was built upon, they were supposed to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening together. This past month has been busy for both by any standard of comparison, leaving them with little in the way of interaction outside of an unsatisfying few minutes before retiring to catch up on a shared lack of sleep. With that being the case, she is of a mind they are both long due a recreational allowance to spend as a couple.

Sadly, it isn't to be. As if sensing her anticipation at the many pleasurable activities she could potentially indulge in with her wife late this afternoon and evening, the Council decided to it was an appropriate moment to test her faltering patience. Her mood sours even further as the spokesperson chosen to broach whatever topic they felt could not wait until next week stands and haughtily clears her throat.

"My Queen, please forgive my boldness, but there is one last matter we must discuss before convening," Lady Tremaine says, tone conveying as much criticism as possible without subverting the respect her sovereign is due.

Regina has long fostered a hearty disdain for Tremaine, and being chosen as the mouthpiece for what is bound to be bad news is doing the shrewish woman no favors. Nonetheless, Regina waves her permission to continue, which Tremaine immediately seizes upon.

"I mean no disrespect in informing you that the Council is in agreement on the longstanding concern of the kingdom lacking a legitimate heir. We must insist that you provide one with all due haste. Too long now we have mediated on your behalf with our fellow Lords and Ladies without providing them the assurances they require to continue their longstanding, incredibly generous support for the Crown. Two days ago via official written form, they unanimously demanded results from us on this issue. As sympathetic to your unique situation as are all within these chambers, we can no longer stem the tide of unease. If something is not done promptly, those with the means and influence to do so will surely intervene and seek their own solution."

With each condescending phrase, Regina feels her blood pressure elevate. "What you mean to say," she sneers, "is that the brazen demand is meant for me alone and that if I don't cow to them, they will commit treason and go behind my back to procure an heir favorable to them. Only they lacked the spine to face me directly." Rising, she leans over the table imperiously, hands splayed out over the finely polished surface of a furniture piece that weighs as much as a small horse. "Well, you can tell those yellow-bellied, blue-blooded bastards I won't stand for it. If they really feel so strongly, perhaps they should level those threats in person tomorrow morning. Rest assured, I will answer them with extreme relish!"

Though she has not spoken to the Council so harshly in many months, she is impressed by her ability to contain a seething rage that threatens her carefully constructed self-control. She had wanted to do so much more than verbally rail against them, even though this situation is not wholly their fault. They are merely the messengers of a faction of powerful nobles who simply refuse to let this exhausted topic die. Honestly, she should have slaughtered them all for their insolence years ago.

The last time she was confronted about her lack of a viable heir, she and Red had been together for barely more than a year. Although her life was sweeter than it had ever been, she began growing ever more irritated about the increasingly conspicuous looks of disapproval from the Council. As the body of representatives that maintained equilibrium between the Crown and the nobility that underpinned her political authority, it was imperative she at least lend a perfunctory ear service to their concerns. As much power as she wielded, they served a purpose she couldn't afford to overtly undermine.

Also, she knew without needing a formal declaration the reason for their intermittent censures. She wasn't getting any younger, and without an heir the future stability of the kingdom was in increasingly serious jeopardy. Added to that, she had taken a woman as her partner. With natural procreation eliminated as an option, her advisers began to murmur in discontent at what must have seemed to them a potentially dismal future. That disquiet was a symptom of an underlying illness among the entire upper class, noble and gentry alike, which left untreated would eventually fester into borderline rebellion. Which is precisely what is happening right now because she was, at the time, unwilling to confront it with her typical finality.

One day during an otherwise routine meeting, the Council confronted her directly. To the last member, they insisted she should take a husband to sire an heir – they hadn't known at the time that she was barren, not that it would have mattered as insistent as they were. It was for the good of the kingdom, they argued, with Snow in permanent exile and Regina otherwise childless. They even had the gall to suggest that she could keep Red as a lover on the side if she so wished after the farce of a wedding. Just so long as she put the welfare of the realm above her own personal desires, they didn't care what 'seedy activities' occurred behind closed doors. Enraged past the point of logical response, she disbanded the Council for an entire month on the spot and then issued an insistence of her own that if anyone dared to denigrate her relationship with Red in such a way ever again, they would be roasted on a spit in the square as an example. She had wanted to do so much more but held back out of respect for Red's more sensitive scruples.

The threat worked insofar as it put an end to the open sedition, though Regina knew it would not stop the nobles' discontent. However irate she was at them for daring to pose such a disgusting solution to the glaring problem of her lack of a suitable heir, their worries were legitimate if viewed from an objective lens. The power of the nobility depends upon the favor of the monarchy, a monarchy whose succession was by no means secure. So long as she remains childless, their futures are uncertain. Uncertainty breeds anxiety. Anxiety produces paranoia. Paranoia begets recklessness, which if left unchecked usually erupts into violence. It is a vicious progression the kingdom cannot afford to reach its natural conclusion. Thus the nobles' implied threat. Regicide is not off the table for those whose vested interest lies in the continued stability of the realm. It has happened before, many times. History books are littered with examples of kings and queens whose refusal to play the game pushed the nobility to the limit and then paid the ultimate price for their obstinance.

The problem was not that she was, or is to date, wholly indifferent to their restlessness so much as she felt such conviction about the subject that she could honestly say she prefers death to the alternative. However desperate the kingdom is for an heir, she will be no one's broodmare. That she is incapable of becoming pregnant and that there are possible fixes for her self-inflicted infertility is beside the point. She will never, ever betray Red and had assumed that sentiment was reciprocated.

To her immense shock, upon being informed of the council's suggestion later that night, Red actually agreed with them. To a degree, anyway.

"The kingdom does need an heir," Red said sorrowfully, plucking absently at her skirts as they sat at the emptied dinner table. Regina had waited to broach the subject until they had eaten, believing the ensuing discussion would likely ruin both of their appetites. Sadly, as usual she was correct. Her stomach curled into a knot at Red's next statements. "They're not wrong about that. The nobles need to know their future isn't insecure and so does everyone else. For that reason alone, their point isn't unreasonable. Before you go telling them a second time where they can shove their suggestion, you should give it some serious thought. And besides, you not having an heir negatively impacts the entire kingdom. I'm not worth sacrificing the welfare of so many innocent people over."

"You are sure as hell are to me," Regina insisted, perturbed that Red was defending the absurdity in the first place. She didn't care a lick that the kingdom would undoubtedly be plunged into chaos should something happen to her before she could somehow produce an heir. "Don't you realize by now that nothing else is more important to me than you? The crown, the sniveling nobles incessantly pandering for my favor, the unwashed masses I've no practical use for...they are meaningless in comparison."

"That's not true," Red passionately countered. "You care, you just won't – or can't – admit it. How many times have I seen you intervene on behalf of the helpless? When there is a famine and people are starving in some remote corner of the realm, you send grain and corn from the castle's surplus reserves. You have lightened the tax load on the common folk, transferring much to those who can more ably bear it. Real justice is being dealt now. Corruption is being weeded out everywhere. The people's voices are being heard again. You are becoming a champion of the disenfranchised, and it pains me that you can't see how far you've come. Your people are learning to love you, and I know you love them, too. You can deny that until you're blue in the face and I won't stop believing it."

Regina had sighed and stood to briefly turn away from her wife's insistent gaze. "Even if that were accurate, and I'm not saying that it is, to keep the throne and concede to these absurd demands would mean losing you." When Red began to protest, Regina hushed her with a raised finger. "I know you think you could bear sharing me, but I assure you sooner or later the strain would break you just as surely as it would break me. I would just as soon relinquish the throne and keep you than the opposite. My feud with Snow is no longer my primary reason for living, so I've no need anymore of the power and reach the crown affords me. You make me happy, which is all I've ever really wanted. I won't give that up just to appease a flock of gluttonous, honking geese who've been fed too much for too long by my apparently excessive generosity."

"I'm glad I make you so happy," Red said. Rising herself, she sidled up behind Regina and slid her arms around her waist. She then pulled Regina back flush with her body so that she could rest her chin on her shoulder. "I'm also glad you've stopped hunting Snow. And while I agree the council needs to be put in their place on some issues, I think you're wrong about not needing the throne. You do, just not for yourself. The people need you."

When Regina scoffed and tried to extricate herself, Red pulled her back and fixed her with a stern gaze over her shoulder. "You don't believe me, huh? Well answer me this: who would replace you should you abdicate? What would happen to the kingdom under the care of someone bound to be made of lesser stuff than you? In my unsolicited opinion, things would go back to the way they were where the poor had no voice and no power and were used and abused on a daily basis by nobles and rich merchants who only care about furthering their own agendas. You're changing things here, slowly but surely making them better so that this kingdom exists not just to serve the wealthy but all of its citizens. So as much as I hate to agree with the council on this, they are right that you have to do something. This is my home and these are my people, too, and I love them. I want what's best for them, and that is you being their Queen. For that reason alone, you should listen to what they are trying to tell you."

Shaking her head in the negative, Regina swiveled in Red's arms and grasped her lover's face between gentle yet unyielding hands. Her face stern, she said, "Absolutely not. I will not allow anyone in my bed except you. Should the need for an heir prove urgent, we can discuss other means such as adopting, but I won't entertain any further debate on the matter of me marrying anyone else. You are mine and I am yours. End of discussion."

The definitive nature of her assertion concluded the argument for the time being. Red enjoys many liberties with her no one else did, but she also knows when it is unwise to press her luck. That was one such occasion. Two weeks after, Regina proposed marriage to seal the deal, forever ending any further schemes of the nobility to import a pliable husband of station for their unwed Queen.

That decision garnered a fair share of opposition, even from her most trusted advisers, who could see only the negative ramifications of a triply taboo union. Not only was their Queen slumming so low as to crown a peasant, but she was doing so strictly for love and that with a member of her own sex. The outrage lasted well beyond the wedding, which took place less than a year later. Some of it has yet to die down to this day.

For the most part the nobles came around, if not due to Regina's sincere threats than to how competent a co-ruler Red proved herself to be. All the same, the rumblings over the lack of a suitable heir are beginning to grow audible again, which indicate she is facing a potential crisis lest she address the unrest with all due haste. The nobles have shown remarkable restraint in failing to confront her head on, but they won't wait forever for her to solve the problem at her leisure. There is simply too much power and wealth riding on its successful resolution. If she continues to drag her feet, they will more than likely attempt to resolve it for her, resulting in a lot of unnecessary drama. Perhaps they may even foster a spark of rebellion she cannot afford to quash with a heavy hand as she would have in the past. The Dark Days, which has become the preferred appellative for her reign of terror as the Evil Queen, of her ruling primarily through fear and violence are over. She's shown everyone her soft underbelly, now she's reaping the bitter harvest.

That said, as Red pointed out so many years ago, the expectation for her to provide an heir is not unreasonable. However annoying and unfair, it is her duty as sovereign not only to secure the kingdom's present prosperity but to do so without sacrificing its future. As much as she'd like to maintain the current situation indefinitely, doing so is no longer feasible.

Deny it as she might, she is not getting any younger, nor is Red, though no one can tell Red has aged a day in the seven years they've been together. Regina is not so lucky as to escaped the ravages of time. The subtle hint of crow's feet around her eyes and the plodding escalation of fragility in her joints offers irrefutable evidence that she is a woman frightfully close to cresting over to the wrong side of the hill. The time for raising a family is about to pass her by and everyone – especially the nobles – is painfully aware of that undeniable fact.

On a positive note, now that she and Red have settled nicely into their marriage, the concept of adoption no longer seems all that impractical. Their little family is rock solid. The trust they have built day-by-day is only surpassed by the soaring heights of their mutual devotion. No one knows her like Red does and Red can say the same. Their relationship has usurped the maniacal drive for vengeance as the foundation of her very being. It is unshakable and strong and able to weather just about any storm life can throw at it. Adding to it a feeble, needy, greedy human being who doesn't understand the concept of privacy or quiet will not break them. Will a baby hamper them in other areas? Undoubtedly, but she is confident they can handle any hurdles that come along with becoming parents.

The only barrier remaining is Regina herself. Unfortunately, that is a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. There are less minutes in a day than reasons she is not fit to be a mother. Not that the Council should be made privy to those well founded insecurities.

"There is no need for such dramatic measures to be taken," Tremaine says, ignorant of Regina's internal dilemma. "I am positive granting a few minor favors, perhaps extra tax allowances for the year or budgetary increases to relevant districts, along with a simple declaration of your intent to expeditiously resolve the crisis will suffice to allay their fears."

Regina's eyes narrow dangerously. Is the woman seriously trying to blackmail me? In the middle of a Council session? Has she lost her mind? Perhaps, she muses to answer her own rhetorical, little Drizella is leeching more than just milk from her mother's breast as she feeds. The thought of Tremaine losing invaluable brain cells with every wanton suckle of her infant daughter is so amusing she almost cracks a smile. Almost.

"Have you, like your dissident fellows, forgotten who wears the crown, Tremaine?" she asks aloud voice as sharp as her glare as she leans intimidatingly in Tremaine's direction. Tremaine visibly pales. Good, Regina thinks, that conniving hussy needs to be reminded of her place. "Do not presume you have the subtlety or the intelligence to manipulate me. Like me, you won your title with what lies beneath your skirts as much as with a willingness to bloody your own hands. But that is as far as our similarities go. Trifle with me at your own peril. I've outmaneuvered far more brilliant minds than yours. I should also remind you of the warning I issued the last time this subject was referred to me. My opinion on the matter remains unchanged, as do my promises to punish those disrespectful enough to suggest I peddle my wife's dignity for the sake of insuring their purses stay as fat as their bellies."

That was essentially what they were attempting to strong arm her into doing, and though they will never openly admit to it, their aim is the same at present. In royal circles, anything short of natural reproduction is regarded as a last ditch emergency resort to securing the viability of the next generation. As the council has, since the first confrontation concerning this subject, been made aware that she cannot conceive, their focus has shifted. Now they have their sights set on Red, who is in the flower of her youth and whose reproductive anatomy is fully functional. None of the craven members present today possess the spine to state their wishes directly, but it is an unspoken certitude that they would much prefer for her to pick a suitable nobleman that would pass muster and then allow him to impregnate Red. Seeing as Red is a werewolf, she is nearly guaranteed to be of robust fertility and even more so during Wolf's Time. Thus in all likelihood it would only take one encounter to bear fruit.

Logically, it makes a certain perverse sort of sense to permit this travesty, but that does not mean it is ever going to happen. Whether or not Red would be willing to make such a repugnant sacrifice is irrelevant when Regina is not. No, if she is to assure the future of her line, it will be adoption or nothing at all.

Upon registering the Queen's threat, Tremaine returns to her seat without another word as if afraid her legs can no longer hold her up. Regina's victorious grin tragically does not last more than a few seconds.

"With respect, Majesty, Lady Tremaine's suggestion is not wholly without merit," Lord Villeneuve-Beaumont pipes up. A man of some heft, he was an incredibly wealthy merchant who purchased his Lordship by defeating the Ogres during the most recent in an age old series of wars. That he gave up his only child to the Dark One in the process only made the deed all the more impressive, or reprehensible depending on one's point of view. Regina is ambivalent toward him personally, though she has always respected his opinion. Their interests often align, particularly since Red befriended his gobliniphilic daughter. "You know if I agree with the good Lady, it is only out of extreme necessity." This is true. Lord Maurice dislikes Lady Tremaine almost as much as she does, which is why she does not immediately eviscerate him for coming to Tremaine's defense. "The nobility is concerned, deeply so, and I fear if the line of succession is not guaranteed soon, they will have cause to escalate their dissatisfaction. Your Majesty has many enemies of the surrounding kingdoms. They will not have any trouble finding allies with which to conspire."

Regina fixes him with an ugly sneer that does not perturb him a bit. "Let them commit treason if they dare. I'll crush them like the pathetic ants they are!"

"I have no doubt Your Majesty could do precisely that. But what would be left when an accounting is made after that reckoning?" Maurice counters calmly. "We here count ourselves fortunate to be in your good graces, but that attitude does not extend to the majority of our fellows outside this council. As Your Majesty well knows, the nobility is, in general, populated by snakes in the grass. They may betray you with a bite as soon as leave you be, but they do serve a purpose in keeping the vermin at bay."

Aside from his disgust for the common folk being unbecoming a man whose status proximity was much closer to them, he has a point. The nobility plays a critical role in maintaining the stability of the realm's social order. Without them, law and order would break down. Taxes would quickly dry up. Soldiers would soon go unpaid. Factions would soon form and divisiveness exponentially increase. What then? Civil war, that's what. The opinion of the ordinary citizen where the Crown is concerned may have improved dramatically these past seven years, but even their vastly superior numbers could not protect Regina from a violent uprising of the upper classes. Make no mistake, she would send multitudes to the grave before they subdued her, but her magic and skill with the blade are not without limitations. She would be either dead or exiled before any organized resistance could form that might save her.

Worse yet, in the least acceptable scenario involving her assassination Red would likely be captured and kept alive to be sold as chattel for whatever brute the nobles import to sit upon the throne. Regina being betrayed to her death is one thing. Red being condemned to a fate she knows firsthand to be worse than death is another altogether. If she were still unattached, she would have already dealt with this head on, and viciously, but she is not and thus cannot. There is someone she loves more than herself now. Red's safety and happiness is preeminent over her own, which means she is going to have to make concessions, and that galls her to the ragged edges of nausea.

"You're right," she says with a forlorn sigh, collapsing into her chair. "I...I am aware something must be done. I know it seems otherwise, but I am not insensitive to the concerns of the nobility. I have put this off too long and have only myself to blame for being cornered. I should not have put my discomfort over the good of the kingdom. That said, I require more time to come up with a solution that works for both me and my wife. They have waited this long; they can wait another year. I would appreciate if you would confer my decision to them, Lord Maurice, along with this message: my concession is not without conditions. If I so much as suspect they are plotting behind my back again or if I hear a solitary whisper regarding their unspoken but evident desire to turn my wife into a broodmare, I will descend upon them with a wrath that Zeus himself cannot equal."

"I make no promises, but I'll see what I can do," Lord Maurice says, actually showing the sympathy Tremaine had claimed the other members of the council felt for her dilemma. Unlike the rest of the lot, he understands what it's like to actually be in love with a spouse. As a merchant, he was afforded the luxury of marrying for love instead of having settled for a politically beneficial arrangement as virtually all the other nobles did. It's a pity his wife passed away before his ascension. From her infrequent encounters with Belle and the glorified maid's scant descriptions, Regina thinks she would have liked the lovely Lady Colette a great deal. "Perhaps," Maurice adds delicately, "I could make more headway if I had a solemn oath that you will make a decision within that time frame."

Regina nods, all of her energy having drained out of her. It was not easy to admit her responsibility in this boondoggle. "You have it. In front of these witnesses, I swear by the power vested in me by my crown. Calm the waters for me and within a year's time I will produce a viable heir."

At her declaration, the entire council breathes a sigh of relief. Lord Maurice, having taken charge, gives her an encouraging smile. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will relay the news promptly and inform you as to the response."

She gestures aimlessly at the councilors downwind from her. She is fed up with their presence and wants to be left alone. "Very well. If there is nothing else, you are all dismissed until next week."

Lord Maurice gestures to the rest of the council, who stand and then bow in unison with him before filtering out of the chambers. Once she the last member exits and closes the door behind them, Regina stuffs a fist into her mouth and screams with all of her might. Can't they just let me be happy? Will my efforts never be good enough?

It's just like when she was a child. Everything she did her mother criticized. She clamps her eyes shut against the haughty derision from years gone by ringing in her head.

"Stop slouching, child. You weren't raised to behave like an ogre!" is followed by, "That's the wrong fork for an entrée, young lady. Leave the table at once and go to your room. You can do without dinner tonight." Next she hears, "Are you trying to set a record for most mispronunciations in a minute? This tome is of basic difficulty! I simply don't understand where I went wrong with you. Perhaps we should restart your education at the alphabet." And finally, "Must I tell you a thousand times? You always lower your head and then slightly bend it forward before dipping into a curtsy. Honestly, how am I to ever present you in court? You're an embarrassment to me, your father, and the rest of our house!"

Like with her mother, she's grown tired of having more and more and more demanded of her by people who should frankly be groveling at her feet for the privilege of drawing another breath. Were they unaware that she could snuff them all out in their sleep with a snap of her fingers? Have they so soon forgotten who she used to be? Sometimes she thinks they have, and that makes her want to break out her old wardrobe to go along with a convenient reappearance of her malevolent streak. If she's being honest, the chances of that happening have increased exponentially over the last ten minutes. If the nobles possess any sense of self-preservation, they will accept the peace offering from Lord Maurice and be grateful she has agreed to put up with their nonsense another year rather than deal with them as the Evil Queen would have.

Now, if only she can figure out why she has lost her edge in the first place. Regina heaves out a forlorn, weary sigh. Her mother was right. Love has made her weak. Presently, however, she has no time for self-recrimination. There are urgent matters she must attend to.

#ouat fanfiction #red queen #regina x ruby #it's not always good to the be the queen...

1 note · View note