Snow read the invitation twice more before handing it over to David, who read it quickly, once, and tossed it to their daughter. Emma, who had no idea why her parents wore such grim expressions, smiled widely.

"We're going to the Northern lands for the spring?"

"Not necessarily."

"But... We've been invited." Emma adopted the tone so often taken by others toward her. "That would be so improper to decline."

"Queen Regina is a harsh woman." David covered Snow's hand with his.

"Some of that had to be King Nicholas," Emma argued. She'd been tutored for years about the wars ravaging the Northern lands and had always wondered about the one place she'd been forbidden to travel to. The borders had been closed for twenty years, since the year before Emma's birth. A chance like this might never occur again, and Emma wanted to sate her curiosity.

"We will talk it over with our advisers." Snow reached down and retrieved the letter from Emma's lap. "This could be the beginning of a treaty between our kingdoms, or it could be a threat. I promise, sweetheart, that if it is safe, we will make the trip."

It was the best she was going to get, so Emma dipped her head in deference and let her imagination run wild. The invitation mentioned a tournament of heroes. She wondered if women could enter, and what the prize might be.

0-0-0

Spring in the White Kingdom was pretty decent, Emma determined, but it was nothing compared to the Northern lands. Whereas her homeland blossomed late due to the hard frost and freezing weather that was her mother's namesake, the Northern lands were filled with vibrant flowers and sunlight that coated everything. It was hard to even think that violence had torn these lands apart for twenty years. Emma pressed her forehead to the carriage window.

"That's hardly proper." Snow tapped Emma's shoulder and gestured that Emma should sit primly.

"Maybe not, but have you seen it out there?"

"I am quite sure that we will be given tours of the lands, if our host is gracious. There is no reason to act like a child."

Emma rolled her eyes but leaned back as she had been asked to do. "It's weird, isn't it? That she'd be opening the borders now?"

"I thought you were excited about the trip."

"I am. But I did a lot of reading over the last month. Why wait twenty years before opening the borders? And Regina's only been Queen for the last seven years. Why is she still in power? Nicholas had several heirs to the throne."

David drummed his fingers on the carriage door. "Our spies sent word that he died suddenly--just after the Dark One was spotted. Perhaps she made a deal."

"So it will be dangerous?" Emma's face lit up at the thought. She disliked when things were too safe and calm. Life was nothing without a little spice.

"We hope not." Snow sighed. "We wouldn't have brought you if we'd thought it would place you in harm's way."

Emma crinkled her nose and pressed back up to the window.

0-0-0

Royal balls were a drag, in Emma's opinion. She attended them only when completely necessary, and when she couldn't sufficiently distract her parents long enough to slip away. This ball, however, had Emma's interest. It was Queen Regina's first royal gathering, and Emma was excited to see not just her friends who were also in attendance, but to see the Queen whose reputation many had grown to fear.

She danced with several of her peers on her way around the room, but she was searching for the Queen. The image she had in her head was of a regal older woman, about her mother's age. When she curtsied to her next dance partner, a young brunette with a confident smirk and small scar just above her lip, Emma thought nothing of it.

"You are Princess Emma," the brunette guessed. "I was told you would have a mane of the blondest hair I'd ever seen."

"You have me at a disadvantage." Emma twirled through the next few steps. She kept her eyes on the crowd, rather than her partner.

"I am Regina."

Emma lost her footing for a split second but recovered quickly. Her eyes snapped to Regina's face. "You're much younger than I thought you'd be."

"I hear that a good deal."

"My apologies for my distraction. I was looking for you. Well, the you I thought you were. Not the real you because you're quite different. Different better." Emma bit down on her tongue.

"You are eloquent, Princess." Regina dipped her back at the crescendo of the music and when Emma came back up, they were closer together than before.

"My mouth is too often separated from my senses."

"Indeed? Perhaps you merely speak your mind. An admirable quality."

"That's very kind of you to say, your Majesty."

"Thank you for coming to my ball." The music quelled and Emma curtsied as Regina found another dance partner.

Wow, she thought to herself. The Queen was more than she could have fathomed, in looks and in hospitality. Most of the records of Regina were seven years old and incomplete to boot. Emma found that having her expectations violated was the highlight of her evening.

0-0-0

"The jousting will be the first event." David examined the roster. "Followed by archery, and sword play in the early evening."

Emma kicked her foot at the ground. It was unfortunate that women had been banned from competition. She'd brought her gear along, just in case. Watching would be nearly as much fun, she thought, but nothing beat riding her gelding with dirt clods flying up behind her and her lance bouncing in her arms.

"And the prize?"

"The kingdom." David coughed and read the poster again. "The day's winner will wed Queen Regina."

"That's awful." Emma sniffed. "She won't even love him."

"Emma..." He met her gaze. "Not all kingdoms are as ours is. You have the freedom to marry for love, but that freedom was hard won. This land is in turmoil, and she needs to secure her power."

"It's not fair."

"Perhaps not..."

"She was forced into the first marriage, you know? And now a second one?"

"We don't know the circumstances, Emma. This may very well be her idea."

Emma thought about the young woman who had swept her around the dance floor with sure steps and a tight smile. That woman, she determined, deserved more than another loveless marriage.

"Father, I'm going to enter."

He measured the determination in her eyes. She wouldn't be dissuaded, that much he knew. He wouldn't have been when he was a passionate young man. The best he could do was support her and be there to care for her wounded ego if she lost.

"I won't tell your mother."

She kissed his cheek. "Thanks."

He watched her run off and smiled fondly. She had his spirit and her mother's desire to do what was just. The combination led to a headstrong daughter with her heart in the right place.

0-0-0

Emma nearly fell off her horse. Her arm ached, her butt hurt, and her legs felt like jell-o. But she had placed in the top six in the joust, which allowed her the chance to move on to archery. There was a small break for lunch before the competition began and she had plans to lounge in the baths to ease the bruises she knew would be forming.

David intercepted her as she staggered out of the stables and ushered her into a private tent. She accepted his help in removing her helm. He shoved a cup of water into her hands and watched as she gulped it down.

"You did fantastic." He handed her a rag to mop her face. "Although you had me worried on a few runs."

"I'm great." She sniffed. "These amateurs don't stand a chance."

"One of those amateurs nearly unhorsed you on your last bout."

"Details." She tossed the rag aside. "I'm going to bathe. Come get me when the archery begins?"

He helped her to her feet. "Of course. You did your parents proud."

0-0-0

She pulled her hood closer around her neck and hung near the fence. A dozen yards away the Queen's servants were setting up targets attached to hay bales. Her five competitors loitered nearby, ranging from quietly contemplative to boisterously proclaiming victory. She tested the weight of her bow once more and plucked the string.

"Archers, line up." The Queen's voice rang out over the field. "In order to stay in, each archer must hit the bulls-eye. A miss results in disqualification. The last two archers to remain will move forward."

Emma reached back to rub the feathers of her arrows and tried not to let her palms gather sweat. One by one, they lined up and shot off arrow after arrow. When it was her turn, she aimed carefully and waited for her arms to steady. Her arrow buried deep into the middle of the target. The man to her left missed on his first attempt.

Three rounds later the arrow of the man on the end flew wide. Just one more, she told herself. She just had to remain focused on her goal. She pulled her next arrow back along her cheek and released. The twang of bowstrings echoed on either side of her. Her arrow was nearly center-still within the target, but she was losing stamina rapidly.

Each subsequent arrow strayed just a bit further, but thankfully, another man missed first. She dropped her bow and shook her arms out.

"The two moving forward," Regina proclaimed, "are Sir Em and Prince Eric."

Emma gritted her teeth. Sword fighting was far from her favorite activity, but she was going to win. She knew it in her heart.

0-0-0

"Emma!" Snow grabbed Emma by the tunic and jerked her forward. "You can't seriously be competing!"

"Snow..." David gently removed her hands from Emma's person. "She's following her heart."

"She'll be diced to pieces. Prince Eric is renowned for his capabilities."

"So am I." Emma huffed. "I'll be fine. How did you even find out?"

"Really? You're curious how I was able to figure out that 'Sir Em' was my only daughter?"

"Mom, come on! I'm doing really well. I'm going to win."

"I won't let you get killed."

"We'll be wearing practice mail," Emma argued. "It'll be safe. Neither one of us wants to kill, just to win."

"You don't want to kill. You don't know what he wants."

"I'm going to fight, and you can't stop me." Emma shot one last haughty glare at her mother before marching away to get dressed for the final event.

David caught Snow's elbow before the brunette could follow. "She's your daughter, Snow. She's going to do what she feels is right, even when the odds are against her. That's just who we've raised her to be."

"We raised her wrong."

"No," he soothed, "we didn't."

0-0-0

The clang of his sword on hers was the only noise she heard, but she knew the crowds around them were roaring support. She dodged a blow to her midsection and spun inwards. He blocked her efficiently and followed up with a downward slice to her legs. She whipped her sword down and caught his blade.

"Give up," he panted.

"You won't make her happy," she wheezed.

"And you will?"

Their blades sparked on impact.

"Yeah, I think I will." Emma jabbed, ducked, and bounced on the balls of her feet. "You give up."

"Never."

The seconds dragged into minutes. Emma wished she could paw the sweat away from her eyes, but she couldn't afford to move her attention from the battle. He was slower than she was but more refined in his technique. Her quick motions had gained her an early advantage, but she was tiring much more rapidly than he was. But she had noticed the small twitch of his arm when he went on the offensive. If she could time that involuntary reaction with her own counter-attack, she could knock him down and win.

She waited. They eyed each other warily, both trying to figure out when the next attack would occur. Out of patience, he drew his arm back. She rushed in and hooked her foot behind his knee. His sword came down awkwardly on her back, but it was too late. She slammed the hilt of her sword into his shoulder. He toppled to the ground, and she pressed the tip of her sword into his chest.

"Yield?"

"I yield." He dropped his weapon. "No hard feelings?"

She held her hand out and helped him to his feet. "No hard feelings."

0-0-0

Once she was clean, she'd pulled on a pair of her father's breeches, tailored to fit her smaller frame. One of her own blouses had been altered to look more formal for the event and had been hemmed in gold. A maid had brutally tugged her hair back into a braid and wound it around her head, a style Emma'd been against until Snow had begged her to behave.

The ceremony was more rambunctious than the previous ball. People danced freely and drank enthusiastically. Emma did her best not to get caught up in the celebrations, especially not before having the title of champion conferred upon her.

"Thank you all for your attendance. Will Sir Em please approach?"

Emma fought her nerves down and bowed gracefully to her soon-to-be-fiancée. Regina gave her a confused look in response.

"At your service, your Majesty."

"Sir Em?"

"Sir Emma," Emma corrected.

"That's impossible."

"I have the bruises to prove it, if you'd like to see them?"

The court fell silent as Regina appraised the brazen young woman before her. Her deal with the Dark One hadn't mentioned the possibility of a female winner. Accepting Emma as the victor wouldn't be breaking the deal--she had promised to marry the champion of the tournament. Turning Emma down was implausible.

Regina tilted her head. "Very well. Sir Emma, you may claim your prize."

Emma stepped forward and ducked her head near Regina's ear. "You're a person, your Majesty, not a trifle to be won. But if you will have me, I'd be honored to marry you."

A flush overtook Regina's cheeks. "I will."

0-0-0

"I am having difficulty accepting that this is the outcome of my deal." Regina whispered. Her cheek was practically welded to Emma's as they swept across the empty dance floor. Summer had passed into autumn, and their wedding had passed into their reception.

"Don't call it a deal," Emma whined. "At least pretend like this was your choice?"

"Of course, my dear."

"So convincing." Emma closed her eyes and let the slightly shorter woman guide her. She could feel all eyes on them, including her parents. She didn't know one woman could cry so much, but Snow had been sobbing all day.

"You may not have been my choice at first, but you are certainly what I want."

"Well, good. You're who I want, too."

Regina stifled her smile and clenched her hand along Emma's back. She had no idea what the Dark One's ulterior plan had been, or would be, but she couldn't argue with the results. Emma was a pest at times and a stubborn handful, but she balanced Regina's temper with good will. In return, Regina focused Emma's often unruly passion. They worked well together, Regina thought as she turned her head ever so gently to kiss Emma's cheek.