Change of Heart

Chapter 3

note: Emma Is 16 in this story. Regina is only 25.

The next time I saw Queen Regina was the coldest night we had all year.

The air nipped at my skin, sending tremors through my body. The shawl covered my body barely. The hand knitted scarf wrapped around my neck produced slight heat, as it also hid some of the bruises. I felt grateful for that.

The walk to the market seemed terribly long. Trudging through ankle deep snow along the now covered dirt road.

The streets were empty except for the random child that played in the snow.

I brushed off my shoes outside the Bakery shop door. The bell ringing when I stepped in. Warm heat surrounded me as I entered the shop. Matthew the baker nodded his head toward me.

"Hello Emma. What can I get you today?" he asked with his usual chipper voice.

I look around the many shelves, picking up 2 cinnamon rolls. The rolls are hot to the touch, burning my fingertips slightly.

"Would you like me to wrap those up for you, Emma?"

"Yes please Matthew". I walked over to the counter and gave the cinnamon rolls to him. He pulled out a thin material and tied it around the rolls. I hand him the money as the sound of horse hooves echo through the shop.

The Queen.

" Thank you Matthew! Have a good night" I quickly made my way out of the shop. Soft snow flakes greet me when I pass the thresh hold of the door. My eye lashes get covered in snow flakes and my hair dampens.

I walk as quickly as I can through the thick snow. Why would she come today, the coldest winter day?

I shiver slightly, trying to grip the cloth with the rolls in it to my chest. Creating some sort of warmth.

I make it to my front door just in time when the carriage pulled in front of my house. The Queen just steps out of her carriage when I jester her over.

Confusion flashes on her face, but pure regal returns as she scoffs and walks towards me. Though a hint of thanks is evident in her mocha brown eyes.

" Very well.." she mutters.

I smile softly to myself. I turn towards the carriage, the coachman still staring at the road ahead still unmoving. But from where I can see, a slight twitch in his lips looked like a smile.

The door shuts softly behind me. The warmth swallowing me whole, warming my face. I walk towards the fire place and place a few small logs in it, to keep it going.

Opening the material with the rolls, I pass her one. She looks at the pastry with a hint of disgust in her eyes, but willing accepts it.

She smiles softly at me and takes a bite of the roll. Her eyes close, savoring the flavor. As though she has not eaten a cinnamon roll before.

I laugh lightly when I see she has a smudge of white frosting on the corner of her lip.

She looked at me with confusion. I walk up to her and wipe the frosting off with my thumb. Showing her it after.

She looks completely mortified. She quickly turns around and faces the fire place.

" Well this is .... Quaint." She sighs out.

" Well... It has potential." I mutter.

She looks around the room, observing the objects on the mantel.

Coming across the small oil painting on the wall, The Family Picture. My mother still keeps it up as a reminder. Though as my father attempted to cut out my face, so there is just a big rip running down from my head to torso.

I can see her study that picture. Her eyes running over the whole surface, I can feel myself grow nervous. I clear my throat, trying to catch her attention. She turns herself toward me.

" Why is that like that?" She motions over to the painting.

I stiffen. I can feel the tears welling up in the corner of my eyes.

".. My parents do not like me that much... My.. Father did that along while ago... He told me I was the devil." I admit.

She looks taken back from my response. I do not blame her. Who calls their own daughter a devil?

"Why are you the devil Emma...?" She asks softly.

She called me Emma... I can feel myself smiling slightly.

"Well..." I whisper "Just like you, your Majesty.... I have magic..."

She laughs but stops as she sees my face.

My eyes were downcast, tears pouring down my face.

" Emma.... Why does magic make you the Devil?" she asks softly. She steps forward, tilting up my chin. Her mocha brown eyes are filled with concern. The pad of her thumb wipes under my eyes. Just like I done for her when she had the frosting.

"... because I could not save her.." I whisper.

The guard held a knife to Adalyns throat.

My Mother and Father screamed at the top of their lungs. But all I could hear was silence.

" Who?" Regina asked softly.

I stared into my Adalyns eyes

The 18 year old shed no tear. Her jaw locked in place as she tries to calm me down with her eyes.

She was the only one that knew.

She knew my magic was buzzing at my fingertips, itching to save her. Her eyes, though, told me no.

I was only 10 years old and here I am watching her die.

" My sister..." I cried.

Darkness flooded over my vision. I could hear screams and gasps..

The warmth from the magic slightly burned my hands. When I finally opened my eyes again, the Guard and Adalyn were gone. Left behind was Adalyns small heart shaped locket.

I killed them...

I killed her.

The tears were spilling down my cheeks and onto the shoulder of the Queen. She engulfed me into a furious hug. I could feel something wet drop on my shoulder. Pulling back, I see The Queen has slightly glazed over eyes and a wet trail down her cheek.

I can feel the heart pendant grow hot against my skin from under my scarf. I started wearing it after that day. My Mother was furious at me for even touching it, so I hid it from her.

The crackling of fire and the gust of wind could be heard throughout the room. We stayed, hugging each other for a while. Our bodies molded together perfectly.

I never felt so at home.