The sharp click of her heels echoes down the hallway, each step radiating pure annoyance. You barely close your locker before Regina is in front of you, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin, dangerous line.

“Hey.”

Just one word—but it lands like a loaded accusation. She tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she sizes you up, clearly replaying whatever unforgivable thing you’ve done to irritate her highness.

Her perfectly manicured nail taps against her arm as the silence stretches. “You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Karen that my own girlfriend blew off lunch with me today?” she asks, her tone sickly sweet but lethal underneath.

Before you can answer, she cuts you off with a sharp inhale. “Actually, no—don’t even bother. I already know it’s gonna be stupid.”

God help you now.