Chapter 2: The Ill Favored Clove

SOMETHING IN REGINA WAS NOT RIGHT. There were a lot of things lately, but this feeling was weird. Considering it wasn’t rage, anger, or reluctant helplessness. Turning on her back, yet again, she began to feel annoyed. With a sigh of exasperation, she sat up and turned on her lamp. With a tilt of her head, mouth pouted, she picked up the folded note on her nightstand.

Run.

Lifting her head, she moved her feet to the floor. Only to feel something crumpled beneath her. “Ok, this just got weird,” she said with definiteness, reaching for the note.

Run before it’s too late.

“Nope!” Regina said with a shake of her head, chuckling shortly. “God, I know this is your test and as your faithful servant, I will make the right choice!” She says as she rolls back into bed. She didn’t know who was doing this nonsense, but whoever it was, clearly was trying to get her killed. Whenever she ran, misfortune followed. Running had caused her way to much grief. She found it best to just accept the situation. Landing her head on the pillow, she proceeded to get comfortable before the noises of parchment enveloped her ears.

She sat up abruptly, turned and saw yet another note.

“Ok, this is getting creepy.” She said as she opened the note. But this time, it was enough to make her move.

“Mommmm, where are we going?” A sleep torn Clover asked before releasing a yawn. The hood on the cloak Regina had forced her to wear down.

“Wear your hood!” Regina instructed with complete seriousness, glancing beside her. It’s been a long time since Regina was in this position. But after the last note, she knew she needed to move quickly. “I’ll answer your questions when we get there,” she answered cryptically. Clover pinched her eyebrows but didn’t bother to ask where there was. She was just excited to be venturing somewhere past the borders of their home.

An hour had passed and the sun was now rising. Regina stopped and began straying from the side of the dirt path and into the woods. A hungry Clover, behind her.

“There are a few things I haven’t told you,” Regina said, stepping over a log. “A few things I should’ve because then you’d be kept up to speed. But a few things I didn’t because I didn’t want to ruin your childhood or your sensitive soul.”

“I am not a sensitive soul,” Clover countered, feeling a wedgie in her pants yet again. “And I thought the entire reason we were hidden away was due to safety? Is that why we’re leaving now?”

First lie, Regina thought, biting her lip guiltily. Regina didn’t want Clover to be a vengeful child, ironically. So she kind of- well did… fabricate Clover’s entire existence.

Regina had told her that her father (who had died in war fighting for the king) was very favored in the village. And because the only reason he joined the war was to provide for his family, the village blamed Regina which led to the king, who was very grateful for his service, moving them out of harm's way. Though Clover found a lot of plot holes in that story, who was she to question her father’s death?

“Listen,” Regina started, turning around, stopping a puzzled Clover in her tracks. “We don’t have a home anymore.”

“Um, yes we do,” Clover trailed, eyes shifting, “We left it in the nighttime-”

“I mean- we’re moving!” Regina shared. “Somewhere where you’ll meet new people, new boys, people who are far more your taste!”

“But, the king. The dinner-”

“Is no more,” Regina said in a darkened tone, not being able to help it. “You are going to be an adult soon, which is why I’m going to tell you this and this only until we reach our destination.” Clover’s throat ran dry at the next words that fell from her mother’s mouth. “In my family, nobody wished me well. Like nobody wishes us well now. Not John, not the village and certainly not the king. That place was never our home! It was just an accessible prison! Used by the bastard to manipulate me-us!”

Regina took a deep breath, her throat dry and in need of drink. Clover, on the other hand, was mum. It seemed like the explanation turned into a world renowned vent, really quick. After taking a breather, Regina continued, Clover traipsing behind her.

In the heart of the forest was a pie shop. Inhaling the delicious scent of baked dough mashed with meat, Clover saw two pies cooling on the windowsill. Her mother jumped onto one step and after a rhythmic knock, jumped down. The big door opened harshly with a gust of wind. If Regina had stayed on that doorstep, it would’ve knocked her at least six feet away to that tree engraved with a mailbox.

Standing at the door was a mean looking, burly woman with hairy arms and black hair which looked sporadically dyed, the grays poking out. The mean look was instantly replaced with a grimace as Regina twiddled her fingers in a charismatic wave.

“You ran?” The lady guessed in an unsurprising voice before turning her head to Clover. “And you brought a toad with you?” The smile Clover had, wilted away as they were invited inside.

Sitting at one of the tables in the very small dining room, Clover was still sulking at the insult when the woman landed a pie in front of them.

“Freshly made,” she said, ignoring Regina’s glare and cutting a slice. Plating it, she slid it in front of Clover before Regina slid it back.

“Don’t eat that,” Regina quipped with a glance.

“Are you insulting me?” The woman asked, eyes crazed. “I make my pies with 100% beef and chicken.”

“And I sing with birds,” Regina retorted with a teasing smile, putting her feet on top of the chair. The woman rolled her eyes and opened her mouth. “We both know you put werewolves in as a substitute. Save your breath.”

The woman sucked her teeth and sat down in front of them. “I got them when they were werewolves. Doesn’t count,” she muttered. Clover looked up in horror. “Now, where in the hell did you escape from that it took so long?”

“I’ve had some motivation,” Regina replied.The woman’s interest piqued by the height of her eyebrow.

“You,” she directed her attention to Clover. “Since you're not eating you might as well make yourself useful. Help my ward in the cellar in the kitchen. She’s been quite slow with my chores and I’m losing patience.”

“Who would entrust a kid in your care?” Regina joked. Clover silently agreed.

“The idiot who made her,” the woman said gruffly as Clover walked away.