Snow
She watched him carefully, her mind still swirling with questions and possibilities. What she'd said hadn't been exactly true, but it wasn't technically a lie, either. Snow didn't have a plan, not really, but she had an idea of what to do, based on years of Plick's teachings. She wished he was still around to guide her, to help her figure out the next step.
That familiar lump of grief pressed against her windpipe and Snow swallowed. She couldn't think about that. Couldn't let herself give into the sadness. That was how the Queen won. She wouldn't let her win.
"Who are you?" she asked Hunter, watching his face for any of the tell-tale signs of dishonesty.
He tilted his head to the side, his brow arched in a question. "I believe I've already introduced myself, Princess. Name's Hunter."
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Princesses did not roll their eyes. "Yes, but that's only your name. Who are you? What do you do? Why were you on Zomer watching my fire and invading my privacy?"
A slow smile spread Hunter's lips and Snow wanted to scowl at it until it disappeared. Instead, she kept her face as neutral as she could, focusing on keeping her breaths steady. "Is there some expectation of privacy in a public forest I'm unaware of?" he asked.
This time Snow did roll her eyes. She couldn't even help it. "You know what I meant," she said, her molars gnashing together.
Hunter shrugged, still grinning. "I'm just a merchant. Was leaving Zomer after a shipment and saw the blaze. Have to admit, I'm a sucker for a pretty fire," he said, his eyes glittering even with the distance between them.
There was nothing in his body language to suggest he was lying, but that wasn't enough evidence for her. She'd spent her whole life learning to master her emotions, what was to say he hadn't done the same? That was precisely the kind of thing a spy would do.
"Awfully small ship for a merchant," she said, looking around the tiny space for effect.
Hunter didn't even pause a moment before shrugging again, that smile never faltering. "Luxury goods don't take up much cargo space."
"Your clothes are rather plain for a luxury merchant," she said, barreling right into the next question.
Her eyes roved over his form, clad in all black, a form-fitting style that showed off his physique without flaunting it. It was the kind of outfit that afforded free and easy movement, lightweight and silent. Most merchants were far more... ostentatious.
"My clients appreciate a measure of discretion," Hunter said, his eyes twinkling with unreleased laughter. Snow remembered him traipsing through the woods, making an awful racket, accusing him of not knowing the meaning of the word.
She felt her face warm with the memory, the hot flush of outrage pushing through her walls. He was mocking her — again!
"I see," she finally said evenly, despite her hands being clasped so tight her fingers ached. "I'd appreciate you use that same discretion in matters relating to me." She was done peppering him with questions for the time being, but not because she believed him. Because she recognized the threat his cavalier attitude posed to her tightly-held control. She was tired. It had been months since she'd slept properly and her nerves were frayed. She'd be able to deal with him better after a night's rest, but she wasn't sure she trusted him enough to sleep on his ship. And that thought alone was enough to spark an idea.
"I know a place you can take me," she said, a long-forgotten whisper of a memory floating up from the depths of her mind.
"Anywhere you wish, Princess," he said, his eyes still sparkling gleefully. What could he possibly be so damned happy about?
Unless of course, her worst fears were true.
It was buried deep in the recesses of her memories. Just the faintest recollection of her father telling her about this place her mother loved. How he'd built her a secret getaway that no one else ever knew of. He'd told Snow this after her mother passed. When they were both still reeling from the loss, drowning in their own grief. He'd promised to take her there one day. To show her this magical place her mother had cherished so much.
Of course, he'd never actually managed to take Snow there. She'd never seen it, and only had the mnemonic rhyme he'd told her to remember its location.
Hopefully, the Queen had never found it.
Was it possible there was still some forgotten part of the Empire that had belonged to her mother? Some place the Queen hadn't yet tainted with her vile touch?
"Princess?" Hunter said again, breaking through the haze of memories fogging Snow's mind. She snapped to, her eyes focusing on him.
"Please stop calling me that."
A ghost of a smile teased the corners of his lips. "Why? It is your title, isn't it?"
She nodded, unable to tell him that the only other person to have called her that in recent memory was dead. Unable to convey the deep chasm of grief that his death left inside of her. "It is, but discretion is appreciated, if you'll remember."
Hunter laughed, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he waved around the ship. "Who's going to hear, Princess?"
She ground her teeth together, trying to ignore his blatant disregard for her wishes. She'd never faced such disrespect, and though she tried not to let it get to her, she couldn't help but feel he was purposefully slighting her. Goading her somehow.
She wouldn't give in. "It's a bad habit to get into," she said, casting her gaze around the ship warily. "Besides, you never know who's listening where."
Hunter's expression sobered a fraction and Snow was satisfied that she'd gotten through to him on some level. "Alright, where to, Snow?" he said, emphasizing her name this time.
That wasn't any better. Coming from him, her name sounded jarring and alarming. Like the sound of metal scraping on metal. It sent her hairs on end and made her whole spine tingle. She didn't want to say it, but she thought she might actually prefer 'Princess.'
"One forty-two is always blue, seven twenty-eight is also great," she muttered, causing Hunter to tilt his head and look at her like she'd grown another.
"I beg your pardon?" he said.
Snow shook her head. "My father, he liked to speak in riddles. A holdover from his youth spent in the military fighting in the outlands, I think."
"Your father fought in the outlands? You mean, he was safe on a ship far away from the action while others fought, right?"
Snow didn't even try to hide her scowl. "How dare you," she hissed. "My father was not a coward." Her throat tightened at even the mention of her long-departed father. In her memories, he was still the happy King with the light of laughter always twinkling in his eyes. Not the broken and hopeless man that was left after her mother died. After the Queen came into their lives.
"I never said he was, Princess. Just that royalty doesn't normally get down and dirty with the riff raff," Hunter said with a shrug.
Snow's fist tightened at her side and she gave him a stiff shake of her head. "My father wasn't like that. There's a reason our people loved him so much. He was a wonderful leader," she said, her voice going soft and distant at the end. He was. But not always. Not at the end.
Snow still wondered if she had what it took to follow in his footsteps. To be a great leader, beloved by her people. It was a tall order, and though she'd been training for it nearly from the moment of her birth, part of Snow just wasn't sure.
Hunter didn't respond. He seemed to think better of it, turning back to the navigation panel with a furrow in his brow. "So, one forty-two, seven twenty-eight," he said, typing in the numbers, waiting for the third coordinate from her.
Snow looked at the empty space on the panel, searching her memory for the rest of the rhyme. She remembered her father singing it to her while she bounced on his knee, promising her he'd take her there someday. That they'd have a family getaway without royal pomp and circumstance.
She swallowed, her throat tight. "But you won't get very far, if you don't remember it's near the Aleri star."
Hunter pulled up the reference point and tapped the screen, sending the ship hurtling through space.