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Henry may be many things: weak, self-conscious, but he is not stupid.
He knows that there is something not quite right about his beloved wife. He’s known it from the day that he knelt before her to propose and her eyes seemed to look right through him, seeing something -or someone- else.
The way that their wedding night leaves scratches and bruises on his body for a week after is a foreboding of their life together. Cora will take what she wants, and Henry will give it to her, because he’s only ever known to obey, placate and please those around him.
When Cora learns that she is pregnant, he sees her eyes light up, not with the maternal glow he’s heard of from his maids, but with the cunning that is seemingly second nature to her. She’s planning something, but he does not question it. He never will, because he has wanted a child ever since he was old enough to to know that his own family is lacking. He’ll finally be able to offer his love to someone who might actually love him back.
*
His beautiful baby girl, with her rosy cheeks, and her dark, dark curls has become his whole world. She is so full of life and hope and joy that he feels himself come alive whenever he’s near her. In those few blessed hours while Cora disappears into her chambers, they are free. He plants her a tree and it becomes their refuge, small and delicate as it is. She rests her head on his side while he weaves flowers into her hair and teaches her the language of his kingdom. As they sit beside the sapling, basking in the sun he thinks, this could be enough.
In those few moments, for as long as they last, he can try to pretend that he is not killing his daughter with his cowardice. He can ignore the way she begins to shy away from the sun’s warm (burning, darkening) rays or how she balks at the suggestion of doing something unladylike (disobedient, disgusting). He can pretend he doesn’t see the marks on her arms or the way she flinches when anyone gets too close.
He wants to take his little girl and run, far, far away from the poisonous grasp of Cora Mills, but he has never been a man of action and a part of him fears that a life where he makes the decisions would only be worse.
*
As Regina grows older, it becomes clear that she has inherited her mother’s beauty, if nothing else. The village boys begin to stare as she walks by, but it is not the attention of these boys that Henry fears.
He can see how Cora looks at their daughter, the way her eyes grow wide in approval, hunger, and a million other things he dare not put a name to.
*
She calls Regina to join them in front of the fire one evening. At first, Regina enters timidly, but at Cora’s prompting she walks across the room and settles herself on her mother's lap. Henry’s stomach twists at the sight, but he simply takes another sip of wine and stares into the fireplace.
Cora is talking politics again, but he has trouble minding her words when her fingers have laced themselves through Regina’s dark curls and they’re twisting stroking. She leans in, lips brushing Regina’s skin as she asks, “Wouldn’t you agree, pet?”
"Yes, mama," Regina replies dutifully and Henry drains his whole goblet and looks away.
*
Cora and he hardly sleep together; only when the need is too much will Cora shove his head between her legs, or throw him on to his back and ride him until she comes and then promptly push him away. Yet, after Regina’s fourteenth name day, she does not look at him, or even touch him once.
He’s relieved, but the feeling is tempered by the sick feeling in his gut that screams that this isn’t right. Cora holds Regina too close, in ways that are just short of improper. Now, when Cora disappears for hours on end, so does Regina.
*
Before, there was a scared Regina who would run into the safety of his arms to hide; now there is only, “Yes mother, of course mother, anything mother..”
He can see the light go out in Regina, dimming to make room for the poison Cora is planting in her heart.
*
Henry’s heart sinks as he feels the weight lift from the other side of the bed. Moonlight seeps into the room as the door opens for a brief moment. Before he can even look up, the it closes with a click and Henry is alone.