Over the next week or so, life fell into a comfortable, if lonely, rhythm for Regina. Although the activity in the castle heightened as the wedding drew closer, the queen-to-be spent most of her time alone. She remained in her chambers or alone in the courtyard unless she was expected to spend time with the king and his daughter for dinner, or join them on a horseback ride around the castle grounds. Those were the worst. Being around horses always reminded her of Daniel. Fortunately, she wasn't expected to enter the stables. Both the King and Princess were accustomed to having their horses groomed, saddled, and led out to them, without ever having to enter the stables, something Regina could never have fathomed doing before Daniel's death. But now, she was grateful for the excuse to avoid the painful reminder of her fiancé's death.
The presence of her apple tree in the courtyard- which she had finally learned the way to- calmed her more than she cared to admit, but she was still incredibly lonely. She liked to think of herself as pretty self-reliant, and she'd never had that many people to talk to. But she'd always had Daniel. He had always been there for her. To talk to, to lean on. His death was still raw, and she thought of him nearly every minute. And gods, it hurt. He had been her strength, and without him she felt as if she would crumble to pieces. Just the thought of him hurt her terribly, but the idea of not thinking of him, of forgetting- that was truly unthinkable.
And her father had left, too. His absence hurt almost as much as Daniel's, because even in these terrible weeks after Daniel's death, she hadalways, always had her father. Now, he was gone, too. He had wanted to stay with her, she had no doubt. But Cora was adamant that Regina have some time to adjust to living in Leopold's castle before the wedding, before she had to adjust to everything else that came with being married, and with being queen. And, well, Henry was scared of his wife. He had never been able to stand up to her, not even for Regina's sake. And while she knew he loved her, she missed him terribly. She wished bitterly that he was a bit stronger, that he had been able to stand up to Cora and be here with her when she needed him.
But he hadn't, and she was alone. The servants barely spoke to her. Her husband-to-be barely spoke to her. She could tell he didn't care one way or another whether she was happy. He'd simply decided that his daughter needed a mother, and that, somehow, she was best qualified for the position. Indeed, the only people who had said more than two sentences to since she arrived had been the young princess and the valet who had been bringing her meals.
Robin, she thought his name was? He seemed young, perhaps only a few years older than her. Certainly less than thirty. Perhaps that contributed to his willingness to talk to her, especially since nearly all of the other servants she had seen were older, in their forties at least. But, though he had assured her she could call on him for any reason, she didn't.
After all, her loneliness was her problem, not something she could put upon him to fix. Besides, all the servants were busy with preparations for her wedding, and she didn't want to force him to neglect his duties simply because she was lonely. So, she suffers in silence, though she does attempt to engage him in conversations that are more than just a few pleasantries exchanged when he brings her meals.
The last servant she had gone beyond that level of politeness with, she remembered with a pang, had been Daniel. But she's not replacing Daniel, she thinks fiercely. Of course not. She can't. His absence gnaws at her soul, a gaping wound in her heart that she doesn't think will ever be able to heal. No, Robin is just nice to her, friendlier than the other servants, helping her to hold onto her sanity in this big, lonely castle.
Robin cannot keep his mind off of her, the King's young bride-to-be. She's gorgeous, mesmerizing, her beauty catching him off guard more often than not. But it's not just that. She... intrigues him. He finds he enjoys talking to her, and, despite her family's wealth, in no way does she behave like the spoiled Princess he expected. Instead, despite her attempts to act haughty and distant, she is incredibly genuine, despite the sadness in her eyes. It's the sort of sadness that someone so young should never experience, he finds himself thinking. He can always see it, a constant pain in her eyes, dimmed all too rarely by that brilliant smile of hers.
