Emma was trembling slightly. She had believed she wasn't afraid of death, but she was beginning to realize that perhaps that wasn't entirely true. Seeing the sun rise had been a relief, but watching it set again had made her anxiety rise.
The barely nineteen-year-old woman sighed.
She could do this.
She had done it once. She could do it again!
Just then, the door to the bridal chamber opened. It didn't creak, but Emma felt threatened as though it had.
The Queen had come to see her again.
This time, Regina didn't remain standing. She gracefully settled into a chair beside the bed. Emma tried to imitate her posture on the edge of the mattress, but in her exhausted and anxious state, she couldn't come anywhere close to matching the Queen's elegance.
"I suppose you have other stories," Regina said coldly.
"Yes. I have hundreds."
The Evil Queen gave a small, satisfied smile.
"Good! As long as you can keep me entertained, you will live."
Swallowing nervously, the blonde began to tell her tale.
⸻
In a small town, a young boy named Henry lived like a modern-day slave. Every day, his adoptive family gave him a list of chores to complete before he was allowed to eat. He often imagined making them pay for the way they treated him.
Sadly, his meals were never very filling. A little cold soup and a crust of stale bread were the norm for him.
He had never been given a room in the house, so he slept in front of the fireplace. He always ended up covered in soot.
That was why his two horrible adoptive brothers had begun calling him Ashry. His stepmother had adopted the nickname as well. Before long, no one ever called him by his real name anymore. Even the neighbors knew him only as Ashry.
But things were destined to change.
One spring evening, royal invitations arrived at the house. They were addressed to all the young men living under that roof.
Ashry had one with his name on it.
Cleverly, he hid it beneath his oversized clothes before bringing the rest of the mail to his family.
"My two handsome boys have been invited to meet the princess at a ball!" his stepmother exclaimed happily.
Ashry barely managed to keep himself from frowning.
His adoptive brothers were not handsome. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
One was as fat as a pig and, on top of that, never washed himself. The other was covered in angry, pus-filled acne. Really, handsome was not the adjective Ashry would have used to describe them.
He would have been more inclined to call them poorly drawn caricatures of ugly men.
Leaving his so-called family to revel in the good news, he went about his chores without saying a word.
That didn't stop him from devising a plan to attend the ball himself.
One of his additional duties was making clothes for the family, so he stole a suit that was still being made for the thinner of his two brothers.
Every evening during the month leading up to the ball, he spent an hour working on it after finishing his long list of chores.
Night after night, he altered it to fit his own size.
He added embroidery around the collar and buttonhole. He found a soft piece of fabric for the breast pocket and embroidered it with golden thread as well.
Finally, after a month, it was ready.
The exhaustion that had built up over those weeks had been worth it.
It was his finest creation.
He didn't get to admire his handiwork for long, however.
Someone was calling him from downstairs.
"Ashry, we're leaving! I'm warning you, young man! This house had better be exactly as we left it when we get back!"
"Yes, ma'am... As always, ma'am..."
Once the other three had left, he boarded a bus.
With a smile on his face, he made his way to the ball.
The evening was magical.
The music seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Guests turned to watch him as he passed, fascinated by his beauty.
His adoptive family looked at him jealously but, clearly, didn't recognize him without the soot covering his face and hair.
For the first time in a long while, he felt comfortable in his own skin.
He danced with the princess for almost the entire night.
His life had just changed.
If he played his cards right, he would be rid of his adoptive family... thanks to the princess's power.
All he had to do was ensnare her.
Well... that is, if he could charm her before midnight, when the last bus left.
⸻
The story ended there, much to Regina's disappointment.
She could see, however, that Emma was exhausted. Then she remembered that her new wife hadn't eaten anything, having never left the room.
The storyteller's voice was beginning to crack, and her lips had grown dry with thirst.
The Queen, less cruel than usual, summoned a servant for her storyteller. She had no intention of letting the blonde die before hearing the end of the story.
"Eat. I want to hear the rest soon. Don't let hunger and thirst keep you from telling your stories properly."
A spark appeared in Emma's eyes.