“But I love you!” Hunter interjected, blood rising, chest heaving. “I love you, my queen, please! I will do anything!”
Liora paused. Her breath slowed. She lowered her voice. “The day you chose her over me was the day you gave away my power and doomed me forever!”
She snapped her fingers. He flinched.
Two guards, who had had the misfortune to be in earshot, stepped in. “Escort him to the gates,” she said without taking her eyes off Hunter. “See that he has his horse and no more. If he is seen within these walls again, you have my leave to put a spear through him.”
“Yes, Majesty,” they chorused, eyes wide. But Hunter didn’t struggle. He followed them like a man walking through water, every movement slow, disbelieving. He’d given this castle hislife, his blood, his bones. Now it pushed him out like something rotten.
At the great gate, the guards handed him his reins. “Sorry, Captain,” one muttered. “Orders, you know.”
He stepped up into the saddle, hands moving by habit. For a moment he sat there, looking back at the high walls, at the windows where he’d once stood watch, at the tower he’d thought of as a second home.
“Open the gate,” he said. The portcullis rattled up and he rode through, hooves crunching over the gravel of the outer ward. But he didn’t go far. Once outside the sight of the sentries, he guided his mount into a cluster of trees, tied the reins loosely, and sank down on a fallen log just off the road. He waited. The sun dipped below the horizon, turning the air biting and cold, but he did not move to build a fire. He sat on the damp log and stared at the closed gate, ignoring the gnawing emptiness in his belly and the stiffening of his limbs, waiting for a signal he had seen a thousand times before—and which had never once been for him. So many years devoted to her, so many years in love. He didn’t know any other way to exist. He didn’t know what, exactly, he was hoping for. Liora storming out to call him back, face softer, anger cooled. A messenger on a breathless horse, bearing some ridiculous royal summons. An apology, if he were foolish enough to dream of that. But the hours passed and none came. The sun crawled across the sky. Shadows lengthened. His horse grazed, tail swishing lazily.
Finally, when the light began to turn the color of old honey, the castle gate opened again. Hunter rose. A small cart rattled out, driven by a woman in a kerchief and patched dress. She sat straight-backed on the seat, hands steady on the reins. The rough wood of the seat bit into her velvet-soft skin, a jarring reminder that the world outside her tower was made of splinters and dirt, not silk. A basket of produce sat beside her: cabbages,some wilting greens, and a few early apples nestled like jewels in straw. It took Hunter all of three heartbeats to recognize Liora. Disguise or not, the set of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin, the contained fury in every line of her body gave her away to someone who’d watched her move for years.
He cursed to himself. He was right. He knew she would do it on her own. He waited until she’d passed, then swung into his saddle and nudged his horse into motion, keeping well back, using the trees as cover.
Tothewest,ina cottage at the edge of the woods, Snow White sat at the wooden table with six men and something that felt more like a family than anything she’d had in years. She hadn’t intended for the breakfast to become significant.
The meal started with bread. She’d set the loaf on the table, proud of the rise, the brownness just this side of burnt. Harry had stolen the heel before anyone else could, earning a scowl from Gage and a laugh from Drew. “You’re getting good at this,” Harry said around a mouthful. “Soon we’ll all be too fat to fit down the mine shafts.”
“Speak for yourself,” Silas yawned, stretching in a way that made his shirt ride up.
Snow White smiled.
They passed plates, traded jokes. Conversation drifted from a beautiful large ruby found in the tunnels yesterday to Grimm’s new habit of kicking over the water bucket to whether Drew would ever manage to beat Silas at cards. Somewhere between Silas’s loud sneeze and Bennett’s soft words, she looked aroundthe table and felt something settle. She trusted them. The realization was simple and seismic. She trusted them with her body. With her food. With her sleep. Maybe it was time to trust them with the rest. Her heart picked up speed. “Can I say something?” she asked, fingers tightening around her mug.
Six heads turned toward her. “You just did,” Harry said automatically, then winced when Dax kicked him under the table. “Sorry. Yes. Say something important.”
She took a breath. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” she said. “About who I am. Who I was.”
Silas groaned. “Knew it. You’ve got secrets coming out of your ears. Finally going to share?”
Bennett’s expression turned worried. “You don’t have to,” he said quickly. “Not if it hurts.”
“It hurts more not to,” she replied. She stood, unable to sit still under their combined gazes. “When I came here,” she began, “I told you my name was Snow White. That was… not a complete lie. It was what people called me. Because of this.” She gestured to her skin. “But it wasn’t the name my father gave me,” she continued. “He named me Shay. After the old word for snow. He said it fell the night I was born, and the world looked fresh and new, and he wanted me to carry that with me.”
“Shay. It fits you,” Bennett said with a smile.
Her voice wobbled. She steadied it. “There’s more.”
“Please continue,” said Drew.
“My father was King Wilhelm,” she said. “My mother is Queen Liora. I grew up in the castle.”
Silence crashed over the table.
Harry’s eyes went wide. “Well,” he said faintly. “That’s a twist!”
“You mean…ourqueen?” Drew asked.
“The one we slave for in the mines day after day? Sending her jewels and gems in exchange for scraps?” Silas asked.
She nodded.
Gage slapped Silas on the side of the head as if to say “obviously” and “shut up” simultaneously.
