Her Glass Heart [SwanQueen]

Chapter One: February 12, 2008 (Regina)

"Oh, there you are, dear. I've been searching all over for you." King Henry placed a kiss on his daughter's forehead.

"Daddy!" Regina greeted her father with a hug and a bright smile. "I was out wandering the park grounds. Look at these fish I was able to get a good shot of when I went on the lake!" She clicked through the pictures on her camera, tilting the screen to allow her father a better view.

"Those are beautiful, Regina. I'm glad you are enjoying your birthday present," Henry smiled sweetly. "Why don't you go wash up before dinner?"

Regina nodded obediently, tucking her camera back neatly in the large camera bag full of various lenses she had stashed away.

Her father watched her go, unable to hide his gleaming grin of admiration and pride for the young woman his daughter had become. She had grown, restored to full health since the day her heart condition was cured only 11 short months ago by the mysterious man. A miracle worker, the king had decided to call him, for having saved his daughter's life.

Regina was seventeen now, and always so full of laughter and joy. Sometimes, the king struggled to believe the man's warning that she was incapable of love when he saw the way she reacted to things that made her happy: all the endless days she spent exploring the land outside their castle, spending time in the sun, capturing the beauty of the south with her camera.

He still had yet to tell his daughter about the side-effect of her glass heart. He had tried on many occasions, but every time he mustered up the slightest courage to do so, he was at a loss for words. He felt like a coward for not telling his daughter the truth, but how could he tell Regina, the apple of his eye, that she was physically incapable of returning his affections? That she could never love another? How would she react if she knew she would never be able to fully understand how incredible love could make a person feel? No parent had the heart to put their child through such agony. He certainly didn't, at least not yet.

When she reached her large bedroom, Regina discarded her clothing in the tall hamper outside the en-suite bathroom. She turned the shower's handle, prompting hot water to begin pouring out of the white marble shower head, then glanced at her bare reflection in the large mirror mounted over the vanity.

Her bronzed skin looked sun-kissed, as it always did after another long day spent wandering the southern realm's vast land full of beautiful bodies of water, extravagant livestock, and spectacular greenery. The weather was warm all year round here, and not a day went by when she wasn't extremely grateful her father and the sorcerer were able to heal her, so she could finally experience all that the south had to offer, instead of spending her days in bed.

She stepped into the shower, the glass door sliding closed with ease, as the warm water trickled down her back and rinsed the day off of her body.

She stepped out soon after, wringing her soaked dark hair out over the sink, and wiping the fog off the glass mirror, but the sound of the mirror cracking on impact forced a small gasp out of her parted lips and she jumped back, her eyes widening.

"What the —" Her voice trailed off, as she took two steps closer to the glass to examine the cracks more thoroughly, a sudden coldness pounding her core.

She reached her finger up, slowly tracing the cracks in her reflection gently, her eyes locked on the intricate patterns in the glass.

She pulled her hand away and when she looked down at it a few seconds later, she noticed a small trickle of blood making its way down her index finger. She didn't feel any stinging pain, though. In fact, she hadn't noticed she'd been cut by the glass at all.

Instead, something inside her tingled, tugging her toward the mirror as though urging her to touch the glass once again.

She pressed her cut finger against the shards of glass on the wall and drew a sharp intake of breath when she saw the ridges of the mirror mending itself back together under her light touch.

She blinked in disbelief, her sight trailing down momentarily then back up to the fully-mended mirror in front of her. She couldn't hear anything over the sound of her own racing heartbeat.

For a brief minute, she thought she may have imagined the glass breaking and piecing itself back together, but the cut that remained on her index finger reminded her it was real, and that she somehow just mended the glass mirror back together with just her touch. Or perhaps with her blood — she wasn't sure. Both possibilities sounded too ridiculous to entertain.

Eager to pretend it never happened, she bandaged her finger then rushed to her walk-in closet, grabbing an outfit to throw on for the evening before heading out of her room and as far away from that bathroom and her mirror as possible.

But even when she left the room, the sight of the glass mending itself under her touch flashed unbidden in her mind.