“My Queen!” The slave’s sky blue visage plastered itself over every mirror in the Queen’s chambers; there were panicked features everywhere Regina looked.
He appeared a little after her now late father’s corpse had fallen cold on the floor,
just as soon as the royal had finished gathering the dust that surrounded her feet and placed them into something she could carry.
A slammed door in the face was the mirror-bound Genie’s response to his cry for answers.
Regina wasn’t in the mood to give him what he wanted, though really, when it came to her slave, she never was.
This time though, she shared in his panic and despair. How could she not?
The thought struck once more, like a bell that was repeatedly chimed on the hour at a church.
Her father was now
, his body that was once so open and comforting was now still as a stone, and it was all thanks to
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