There was little to console the queen these days, even less that she cared to allow to sate the ache that kept a steady beat just beneath her ribs. The pain was welcome in spite of the absence of new injury. When no joy could be found, why then should she choose to feel nothing? The pain gave her something that was her own. Now that her life, and her body were no longer quite so under her control, she found this sinking despair the only true solace to be found. Amidst the echoing empty corridors of this prison disguised as her home, she sat alone in her garden most days. Weary gaze locked upon the tree that symbolized something she had yet to truly emulate. LIFE amidst decay. The red apples that hung, swollen and ripe, from its tender branches did little to appeal to her, where once they were sought after with voracious hunger. She could not count the times that she had considered simply taking that one final plunge, ripping away control from everyone in her life who sought to use her, but fear was a familiar bedfellow, always there to whisper doubts in her ear ------ making certain she was kept in this cage.
She did not stir when footsteps scraped the stones behind her, nor when a guard beckoned her to the great hall. A guest, it would seem. Strange, considering her husband and his whelp were gone -- off on yet another month long journey to some fantastic place, that she was neither invited to, nor desired as company in enjoyment of. Yet how she would hear tale of the wonderments, as Snow White mocked her with each breath drawn, a living reminder of the cost of betrayal, and how much she had yet to see answered for. With a deeply drawn breath, and a pensive frown, Regina rose, dutiful to see to the visitor and eager to send them away. Whoever he was, he could return when her husband was here to call upon. As it was, she hadn’t been trusted with anything beyond residence of this palace, and even then she was granted access to but a fraction of its expansively sprawling confines.
The guards had placed the man, this guest, in the dining hall, dim but for a flickering fire, casting its amber haze against all that was near, and bathing the rest in shadow. Running the length of the room, the long banquet table laid barren, unused and forgotten, not unlike she herself. It seemed the table was used only on occasion when it could be used to celebrate the princess, and not the queen. Upon entering, no guard followed. As usual, they cared as little for her well being as her husband himself, and the young queen was left to stand, eyes fixed curiously on the slender figure just before the fire, some twenty paces before her. Why it was that no one else could have seen to sending this man away, she did not know. However, she’d stopped questioning the incompetence of her husband’s kingsguard long, long ago. Clearing her throat and holding her chin high, she called out, voice soft and apathetic, but clear enough to be heard at this distance.
❝ Usually guests do not seek an audience with the king
when he is not here. I am afraid whatever business you have
will simply have to wait. ❞
