Crown by Reality

Snow White: A Small Conversation

The air became still, sucking every warmth and the sounds of the streets outside, despite Magische Kessel streets to be considered the less rampant heels echoing in the Kingdom, it was still evident by the chatters and bickering of the commoners in the neighbor town, the Slave markets and such. Faint as they may be for the ear to catch the whiff of sounds, the peculiarity of the situation that the air seems to devour everything to nothingness. Hunter would have understood if his ears tied the murmurings coming from the outside, the hooves of horses with a carriage to carry faded when the curtains fell over the windows blocking the sun. Silence made its presence known, inviting enlightened candle lights hanged on the cobble stone walls providing little warmth and for some reason, he understood with a click that witches may perhaps dressed them with long black robes considering winter took place inside the Shop.

His attention swayed over Snow White whose sight were blankly staring at the long-haired lady. Hm, now that is fascinating, she kept her gaze to her form for quite some time. What was she called earlier? Raven? Ruby? Oh, yes. Her name was Rapunzel, named after the flowers grew outside the shop, quite a fitting name truly but that doesn’t mingle his interests, his focus remains on the Princess he accompanied as she keeps a fixated stare towards the old croon and her daughter talking among themselves something about the cats and the stairs? Heh, Hunter crossed his arms then shook his head before forcing himself from leaning on the table then advanced to Snow’s right side breaking her transfixed eyes at the two.

Just as quickly she noticed her Huntsman, the instant she returned her focus again to Rapunzel. Hunter nodded to himself, “Do you fancy her, your Highness?” he smiled as soon she snapped her gaze towards him, knowing fully well that she tasted sourness from what he said. “An honest question. A mere curiosity coming from my mind, Princess.”

“I would not be able to have an heir with a woman, much less if I have taken an attraction and interests towards the same kind I am.” Snow answered softly, careful not to raise her voice, “I did say before that I have my eyes towards a loyal good looking man.” She spared him a quick glance before scoffing with a flair of light humor, rubbing her hands together as she feels the coldness of the room washing her to a frozen tip. “Unfortunately the majority of the men with a royal blood does not have a rough, callused hands like mine.”

“Calluses…” his brows knitted together. That could not be possible, then again the wicked Queen wasn’t one to show mercy to even her own maids and servants inside the palace. He brought his eyes down to her, the fire’s glow outlined Snow’s dainty hands, keen eyes saw her supposed untouched, gloss as a glass but his expectations extinguished the further he looked at her hands which he can describe, skin peeling itself away, rough lines of her palms showing her hard work against stone and flint, he saw it a miracle that no scar left a trace to his relief… not that he’d admit in front of her.

Hunter grabbed her hands, forcefully that she let out a yelp and instead of scolding him, the sight of him sharply taking in the sight of her hands against him distracted her from uttering anything else. “Princess, may I touch your hands?” Hunter had a stern, stoic frozen anger she knows from watching the people outside when they talked about the Queen, they were great at hiding what sardonic unrestrained delight on thrashing the name of her vile ways while Hunter laced his words a carried weight, expressionless when she offered her hands for him to see, to touch and Snow White didn’t know how to act.

“…Yes, of course but why-!?” unexpectedly, her lingered on his sharp look, taking her hands to his own.

“You worked as a maid?” Hunter lookeThe air became still, sucking every warmth and the sounds of the streets outside, despite Magische Kessel streets to be considered the less rampant heels echoing in the Kingdom, it was still evident by the chatters and bickering of the commoners in the neighbor town, the Slave markets and such. Faint as they may be for the ear to catch the whiff of sounds, the peculiarity of the situation that the air seems to devour everything to nothingness. Hunter would have understood if his ears tied the murmurings coming from the outside, the hooves of horses with a carriage to carry faded when the curtains fell over the windows blocking the sun. Silence made its presence known, inviting enlightened candle lights hanged on the cobble stone walls providing little warmth and for some reason, he understood with a click that witches may perhaps dressed them with long black robes considering winter took place inside the Shop.

His attention swayed over Snow White whose sight were blankly staring at the long-haired lady. Hm, now that is fascinating, she kept her gaze to her form for quite some time. What was she called earlier? Raven? Ruby? Oh, yes. Her name was Rapunzel, named after the flowers grew outside the shop, quite a fitting name truly but that doesn’t mingle his interests, his focus remains on the Princess he accompanied as she keeps a fixated stare towards the old croon and her daughter talking among themselves something about the cats and the stairs? Heh, Hunter crossed his arms then shook his head before forcing himself from leaning on the table then advanced to Snow’s right side breaking her transfixed eyes at the two.

Just as quickly she noticed her Huntsman, the instant she returned her focus again to Rapunzel. Hunter nodded to himself, “Do you fancy her, your Highness?” he smiled as soon she snapped her gaze towards him, knowing fully well that she tasted sourness from what he said. “An honest question. A mere curiosity coming from my mind, Princess.”

“I would not be able to have an heir with a woman, much less if I have taken an attraction and interests towards the same kind I am.” Snow answered softly, careful not to raise her voice, “I did say before that I have my eyes towards a loyal good looking man.” She spared him a quick glance before scoffing with a flair of light humor, rubbing her hands together as she feels the coldness of the room washing her to a frozen tip. “Unfortunately the majority of the men with a royal blood does not have a rough, callused hands like mine.”

“Calluses…” his brows knitted together. That could not be possible, then again the wicked Queen wasn’t one to show mercy to even her own maids and servants inside the palace. He brought his eyes down to her, the fire’s glow outlined Snow’s dainty hands, keen eyes saw her supposed untouched, gloss as a glass but his expectations extinguished the further he looked at her hands which he can describe, skin peeling itself away, rough lines of her palms showing her hard work against stone and flint, he saw it a miracle that no scar left a trace to his relief… not that he’d admit in front of her.

Hunter grabbed her hands, forcefully that she let out a yelp and instead of scolding him, the sight of him sharply taking in the sight of her hands against him distracted her from uttering anything else. “Princess, may I touch your hands?” Hunter had a stern, stoic frozen anger she knows from watching the people outside when they talked about the Queen, they were great at hiding what sardonic unrestrained delight on thrashing the name of her vile ways while Hunter laced his words a carried weight, expressionless when she offered her hands for him to see, to touch and Snow White didn’t know how to act.

“…Yes, of course but why-!?” unexpectedly, her lingered gaze turned to look up on his sharp look, as he took her hands to his own, surprising her.

“You worked as a maid?” Hunter looked up to meet her widened gaze that screams pointedly why. They feel like sandpaper, a thought passed through his head without hesitation. Perhaps a roughened rock or a stone. They were callused and roughly it feels as if his hands touched a tree’s bark they were as callused like his, more importantly, the knowledge that he she must had a difficult life under the Queen’s reign.

“Nothing is ever free, I have to do everything for myself. I had to hunt for myself, scavenge herbs and fruits in the Süss Forest so I would not have an empty stomach at the end of the day. If I ate the food inside the palace I would be placing myself in risk of poison.“ It was a simple, undeniable truth. Snow knew it was not normal for her, as someone who still had the title as the Princess before, callusness should not even taint the hands in the first place, “It is against the rules, but my life is always at stake and I cannot trust anyone...“ looking up, she tried to avoid her eyes from meeting his, however she was forbidden to do so. “except you.“

“So you were not a maid?” he pressed in, oddly it did not sound so forced in pressuring to answer her, instead he leaned more and more invading her own space, she can only try not to lean towards him.

“Ghastly, Huntsman I am not. I simply learned how to fend for myself without the expense of others.” Snow White sighed exasperated. “It was not an easy feat considering a woman’s body are not suitable for a heavy load. Much less if I were to hunt now, would I not?”

They were the descendants of a thousand-years of Royal generation of strong men and women, forged with bronze, silver, gold interlaced with iron, a soul brave with the heart and mind impenetrable. Hunter tries not to forget about that, it was the Schneewhitten’s words that influences his family as well, Snow White wasn’t an exception. Their bloodline runs rampant.