The Hunting of Snow White: A Grim Tale - Chapter 21

He might really be offering food and shelter to a lost stranger out of nothing more than simple kindness. No, it did seem that way. She felt foolish for being so afraid he might chase after her or do her harm.

She glanced at him. In the candlelight, his shadowed features looked as graceful as a painting, yet he gave off an oddly cool aura, as if he were somehow detached from this world.

What could he be thinking?

Why did he save me? And what about Lucky… What exactly happened?

Prina hesitated countless times, her lips parting but no words coming out. Her mouth felt parched from the tension.

Moistening her lips with water from her glass, Prina finally managed to speak.

“Um…”

At her small voice, he lifted his gaze.

His loosely lifted golden eyes were both as threatening as a beast’s and as precious as jewels. Overwhelmed by that gaze, Prina momentarily held her breath.

“Speak, Prina.”

He replied softly, raising the corner of his lips.

His easy manner made it clear he knew she was trembling. It was like a predator before its prey, or perhaps like a guardian trying not to scare a frightened lamb. The contradiction gave Prina a sharp sense of discomfort.

It must just be nerves. There’s no need to be so tense.

He must be a good person, since he saved me.

Prina let out a faint sigh and carefully opened her mouth again.

“Th, Thank you…”

The thanks she managed to utter came out trembling. She was just too nervous.

Her face flushed with embarrassment.

“What do you have to thank me for?”

“For… saving me and helping me.”

If her memory was correct, both the gunshot that echoed in the rainy forest and the slow, deliberate footsteps had all belonged to him.

It was a little embarrassing to think that he’d stripped and washed her in the rain… but if he hadn’t, she might have suffered a terrible fever, or not even survived.

He had also given her a change of clothes, provided a cozy room, and given her high-quality meals.

And yet, he had never demanded gratitude or approached her recklessly. Thanks to that, Prina had been able to regain her strength and composure relatively quickly from her state of panic.

“…And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For hiding from you out of fear, without permission. I was cowardly.”

If you looked at it another way, it was because of Lucky, but she was the one who’d wandered around and seen the man naked. Like a startled rabbit, she’d hidden away. If anyone had the right to be angry about someone barging into their room, it was him.

She’d been so out of it, she hadn’t considered things from his perspective. If the roles were reversed, she would have felt upset, too. But he had never shown a hint of that.

As if he understood everything.

He had silently waited for Prina to recover, as if it was only natural.

Instead of replying, the man gave a faint smile.

He didn’t offer any particular response, but to Prina, it felt as if he was saying it was alright. That there was no need to thank him, and no need to apologize. That’s how it felt.

The more generously he responded, the more sorry Prina felt for her own immature behavior.

“Um…”

Now that she thought about it, she didn’t even know what to call him. He called her by name, but she couldn’t keep referring to him as ‘you’. The man sipped his wine and silently watched her, as if he were observing something interesting.

After hesitating for a moment, Prina cautiously asked,

“What is your name?”

“So you’re only curious about that now.”

That was true, and even she realized it was rather rude. Even though his first impression had been frightening and chilling, he had saved her, and this was already her fifth day in his house.

She hadn’t properly greeted him or thanked him, let alone asked his name, and now felt embarrassed by her lack of manners. With her spirits drooping, Prina kept berating herself.

“…Hunter.”

When the word left the man’s lips, Prina’s blue eyes widened.

Hunter, he said. Was that really his name? Or had he become who he was because of his name? Prina also had a name, but aside from necessary occasions, there were few who called her by it. She knew well that most people pointed at her behind her back, calling her ‘ill-omen’.