Of course his name would be Henry, as though she needed a reminder to be Good and Kind (no one expected her to be Nice, not even the Henrys: her son, father, and Snow's surrogate uncle). Or that her sons weren't here, the father one had and the other needed, the other mother and her pirate. For the brief moment before her expression shuttered and her gaze left his, her eyes shone suspiciously.

She covered it in speech. "Regina Mills," she said, and gently stroked a finger along the stem of the barely budded calendula. With the aid of her magic, it slowly opened and unfurled into bright marigold glory.