â   what do you want, red?   â      dark piercing eyes settle upon the wolf as the queen stands steady. itâs a wonder @vivraeâ was granted entry through the door, considering reginaâs recently resurged penchant for threatening all who darken her doorstep with a blade to their neck-old habits die hard, even twenty-eight years later, and the curse breaking has put her in a particularly vulnerable place. the brace tied around her wrist like shackles evidence of that. she may not be able to set her would be executioners on conjured fire, but that doesnât stop her from striking a match   . . .   still, the queenâs history with the wolf is the only reason she had even opened the door. or so she claims.
      eyes narrow at the other with a clenched jaw, perfect teeth gritting as she refuses to avert her gaze-regina, though she would deny it vehemently, is in a defensive state. the curse has not long broken, but itâs been some time since she last saw ruby and sheâs not interested in hashing out a relationship built on lies and deceit-     it wasnât real.     it repeats in her head but never quite settles upon her tongue. regina is many things, but she is not a liar. she may twist the truth to some degree but, outside of her cursed self-unaware of the fabled queen kept under lock and key and curse-she has only ever spoken what she believed to be true. words have power, and few know that better than regina.
       she could count on one hand the people she feels some semblance of care for, one of them she stares at now. but regina is stuborn, and bitter, and petty, and she wonât admit it. what use would it be now, anyway? the curse is broken, they are done.      â   whatever it is youâre here for, i canât help you.   â     drawled deadpan on a monotonous tongue, regina almost flinches at her faux pas. canât, not wonât. perhaps the curse, and her son, have made her soft. she canât quite decide if thatâs a good or bad thing.
