The gray light of dawn crept lazily into Storybrooke, soft and still, as though the whole town was caught between dreams. Nathan stirred when Henry's cries cut through the silence. For a moment, he lay staring at the ceiling, then slipped from bed, bare feet padding softly down the hall.
The nursery door was ajar. He pushed it open to find Regina already there, a shadow of elegance in the early light. Her black silk robe shimmered faintly as she leaned over the crib, smoothing Henry's blanket with delicate fingers.
"You're awake early again?" she said without turning, her voice calm but edged with fatigue.
Nathan rubbed at his eyes. "Hard not to be when lord Henry wants the whole house to know he's up." Giving a small chuckle.
That earned the slightest twitch of her lips. She glanced back, arching a brow. "Would you like to try calming him, then?"
Nathan stepped forward without hesitation. Regina without thinking lifting Henry into his arms, it was becoming easier with this adorable boy. The baby fussed, tiny fists batting the air but as soon as Nathan nestled him against his shoulder, the cries softened into whimpers, then sighs.
Nathan rocked gently, murmuring nonsense under his breath, until Henry stilled. His chest warmed at the weight of trust in such a small body.
Regina studied the scene, her sharp composure softening into something quieter, almost vulnerable. "You really do have a gift with him." she said with a slight sigh, her tone thoughtful.
Nathan shrugged lightly, though pride flickered in his golden eyes. "Guess he just likes me."
Her lips curved in a rare, fleeting smile. "Or perhaps you've simply earned it."
By the time breakfast came, the house felt awake. Regina had prepared toast, eggs, and coffee, her movements precise and efficient. Nathan ate steadily, Henry's carrier settled nearby. The quiet clinks of forks and the soft hum of Henry's breathing filled the air.
Nathan offered no commentary he was used to meals being noisy at the orphanage, filled with chatter and cries. Here, it was different it was Structured. Peaceful. He liked it more than he'd admit.
Regina sipped her coffee, then set the cup down with deliberate care. "I've arranged to meet with one of your main teacher's later this week. Enrolling you properly is important."
Nathan paused mid-bite. "Really, can I come too?"
"Of course, best to begin quickly also it'll help you get less nervous once your starting class. Children thrive with structure."
He gave her a half-smile. "Guess that means homework's coming."
Her gaze sharpened, but not unkindly. "Undoubtedly but you'll manage."
Nathan grinned faintly. "You sound like you already know I'll do fine."
"I do," she said simply.
The System flickered in his vision:
[Affinity Update: Regina Mills – Slight Increase.]
Nathan covered his smirk with a sip of orange juice. Figures.
Late morning drifted into afternoon. With Henry napping, Nathan wandered the mansion. He traced his hand along polished wood banisters, paused at tall windows to watch rain streak down the glass, and peeked into rooms filled with books, velvet drapes, and neatly arranged furniture. It felt too perfect, like something out of the storybooks he knew but not untouchable.
Here and there, he found signs of a life lived: a book left half-open, a cushion slightly out of place, a shawl folded neatly over an armchair. They were small things, yet they hinted at warmth beneath Regina's polished exterior.
When he returned to the sitting room, Regina was bent over paperwork at her desk. She glanced up as he entered, her expression unreadable.
"Finished exploring?" she asked.
"For now," Nathan said, sinking into a chair across from her. He hesitated, then added, "It's… big. Bigger than anywhere I've lived before."
Her pen stilled. "Does that bother you?"
Nathan shook his head. "Not really. Just… different."
Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer, then softened, just barely. "It's meant to be lived in. You'll make your space here."
For all her precision, there was reassurance in her tone quiet and steady, like a promise she wasn't used to giving.
Evening arrived with a steady rain drumming against the windows. Regina sat in her armchair, Henry nestled against her chest, his tiny fingers curled into her robe as he dozed. A book lay forgotten in her lap.
Nathan sprawled on the rug with another of her books, though he was more focused on Henry than the words.
After a while, he asked softly, "Do you think the kids at school will like me?"
Regina looked over, surprised by the question. "Why wouldn't they?"
He shrugged, eyes flicking away. "I'm… different." His platinum hair with crimson streaks caught the lamp's glow, the purple flecks in his eyes bright. "They'll notice."
Regina's voice softened, carrying weight without sharpness. "Different doesn't mean unwanted, Nathan. It can mean remarkable."
He glanced at her, startled, then smiled faintly. The words lingered, warming something quiet inside him.
The System pulsed once more:
[Bond Strengthened – Regina Mills.]
Nathan ignored the notification this time. Instead, he focused on the soft rain, the warmth of the fire, the steady rise and fall of Henry's breathing, and Regina's calm presence across the room.
For the first time, the mansion didn't just feel like a house. It felt like home.
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