Ah, the fun of writing for a character with antisocial neuroses. . .
She's never been skilled at casual social interaction. A childhood spent with only her sister for company, being raised as a princess and trained to be a future queen. In and of themselves, they were pleasant enough, but neither helped with forming bonds.
The few she had seemed largely due to circumstance, or ones who sought her out.
Rose, of course. Sisters. Closer than anything; they always said, the two of them against the world. A rift for centuries, slowly being rebuilt.
Briar Rose and Cinderella, rounding out the triumvirate of the Ex-Wives' club. Not close, not by any means, but they convinced her to head for lunch with them every so often and in their own way, they helped keep her sane. The shared trauma and shared background were best forgotten, as it inevitably would lead to an argument, each feeling that they had faced the worst circumstance of the three.
Boy Blue was the closest to a standard friendship she had, the understanding and familiarity that comes from working hard in an office with another that grows over time. King Cole didn't qualify, always too distant, both physically and otherwise.
And Bigby . . . well, that wasn't as simple to pin down. He was there, with trust deeper and more unquestionable than any she'd known. A constant companion, even when they ensured a professional distance was kept.
Something to think about, certainly.