"Good morrow." The huntsman greeted suddenly, that gentle yet boyishly rash smile on his face. Snow White twisted around from her seat, looking away from her mirror, blinking as she woke up from her haze of memories. Blood, blood was everywhere. The screams of the men who had fallen echoing through the beach. Snow being tainted by the blood of people. The blood of the evil witch splattering onto her armor.
She blinked again, pushing away the images of death as she breathed in before smiling angelically at the man. "Hello."
He walked closer, his smile fading a little, as if remembering something. "I shall ride on tomorrow. I must go somewhere; it is a—a personal matter."
She stood up finally, facing him fully with a startled frown on her face with an undertone of hurt. "Will you be coming back?"
He stared for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he shook his head. A clear sign that, no, no he shall not return from his journey. Her expression crumbled further, "Was it something I did? Did I offend you? Must—"
He stepped closer and put a calming hand on her cheek, as if he couldn't help himself, "No, my Queen. It is nothing but the reason of my not belonging here." She opened her mouth to protest, to deny, saying, no, no, you belong here with me, but all that came out was a breath of pain.
She bit her lip, her eyes tearing up before she spoke again, her voice thick, "I shall supply you the gold I owe you—for your journey. A thousand gold pieces will be given to you before your leave, and you shall have more if you wish for it." She turned her back to him, away from his hand, and tried to push away the need to beg him to stay.
"I vaguely remember asking for a simple thirty." His voice was joking, but the sadness was unmistakable. "And you had promised a hundred without a single thought."
She let her lips quirk up to the side, "You have done above and beyond the call duty and you have saved my life more than once. I owe you my life," she turned her head towards him. "And so does this kingdom."
"And yet, I find myself owing you mine, my queen," He whispered, walking around her to see her face. Snow White didn't know what her expression was, but at seeing her face, the man walked closer, tilting her head up to look at him as he caressed her face. "Which is why I must go. I made a promise to your lover, and I intend to keep it."
Lover?
"What is this lover you speak of?" she asked, pulling away from him in confusion.
"Your William, of course." He kept his tone light and he made sure that he didn't give anything away, "You are destined to be with him, that I see. Who am I to interrupt such a worthy couple? And, besides, I am a mere huntsman. A peasant with a dead wife. I am not of your stature—"
Before he knew it, she pulled him down by his neck, kissing him forcefully. If she had not been so set on stopping him from any more ill words towards himself, she would have flushed and scolded herself for doing such a thing without his consent on the matter. Soon enough, he melted into the kiss, forgetting everything but the woman in his arms and the odds that were against them.
Maybe leaving was a bad idea after all.