I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked for Henri’s Fortier’s love story over the years. He charmed us all (including his author) back in Beauty Beheld, and we fell in love with him even more as Prince Nicholas’s best friend in Cinders, Stars, and Glass Slippers. He jumped in as one of the good guys in The Seven Years Princess. And the question was always the same:
“When do we get to read Henri’s love story?”
Honestly, it was a question I’ve asked myself far too many times over the years. And it truly niggled at me, as I had a story I really wanted to give him…I just didn’t know how. The words and themes and characters weren’t coming out right, and no matter what I did, they refused to be forced into the box I wanted to put them in.
So I finally stepped back and decided to let them choose their own box…as long as they stayed within the warehouse. And wouldn’t you know it? They did! After years of toying with Henri’s love story, I’ve finally discovered his happy ending. Because Peter is going to star in my upcoming retelling of Snow White!
I hadn’t planned to write this story right now, but as Rose of the Dawn is currently with the proofreader, I figured I might as well jump into NanoWrimo and see what I could do. The outline is about 95% done. What is there to lose?
Even more reckless than writing without going over my outline at least three times, I’ve already ordered the cover as well. And I’m SO excited to see it! (I haven’t yet, in case you’re wondering. But I DID choose the model. And that’s kinda, sorta the same thing.)
Now, please forgive the mistakes and typos that are definitely going to be in this bit of manuscript. Due to the nature of NanoWrimo, I’m not doing my usual meticulous typo hunting in ProWritingAid after I write each one. I’m literally just throwing it out and moving on to the next one.
Which is honestly terrifying.
But I figured that you’ve waited so patiently all these years, I might as well give you a sneak peek at what’s going on behind the curtain. And I hope you enjoy it!
The Huntsman’s Heart
Chapter 1 – A Rough Draft
Knife in one hand and rosemary sprigs in the other, Snow paused her cutting to listen. Most of the sounds that surrounded her now were those she heard every day in her garden. Collette was humming to herself where she crouched by the bean patch. Two selfish jaybirds fought over a berry in one of the trees. Bees buzzed in and out of blossoms, and a cricket chirped somewhere nearby, heralding the splendor of spring.
But that wasn’t all Snow heard. On the other side of the wall upon from which her climbing grapes hung, she heard the rumble of carts, the shouts of vendors, and the squawks and brays of animals in the streets.
It was market day.
A little bird fluttered over the wall and landed on Snow’s hand, which was holding the sprigs of rosemary.
“What’s it like out there?” Snow asked the bird. She put her cutting knife down and rubbed her finger over the bird’s little brown head. “Did you find anything good to eat?”
The bird didn’t respond of course, but she hopped up on Snow’s shoulder and gave her a gentle peck on the cheek before flying away again. As she did, Snow’s heart beat fast. This was most likely her last market day on this side of the wall. In two more days, she would be of age, and then she would finally be free.
At least…that’s what her father had always said.
“Collette,” Snow called, turning to face her aunt and former nanny. “What was market day like back in Destin?”
Collette pushed a piece of graying hair out of her face and laughed. “You’ve asked me that every market day since you were six.”
Snow looked longingly at the wall beside her. It was tall and made of dark stone, the grape vines that hung from it a bright green in contrast. “I know,” she said softly. “I just want to feel it.”
Collette’s gray eyes softened, and she gave Snow a sad smile. “You deserve to, love. And one day, you will.” She stood, groaning slightly as she did. After stretching her back, she motioned Snow over to the little wooden table in the middle of the garden. Snow joined her there.
“Here,” Collette said. She lifted a jar of dried camomile and lavender sprigs onto the table, then handed Snow a stack of little cloth drawstring bags they had sewn the night before. “Fill these.” She pulled out her own stack of bags and two wooden scoops, and soon they were both dropping the dried tea mixture the bags.
Rose set to this work happily. She and Collette had spent months preparing these flowers for teas. They would be sent out to the sick houses for healers to give their patients when they were all finished. It was one of the few ways Snow was allowed to contribute to her kingdom as princess, having an effect—however small—on the world outside her garden.
“I was the daughter of a weaver,” Collette said as she filled her own bag with the dried flowers. Rose grinned and settled in. She could recite her aunt’s memory verbatim by now, but for some reason, it seemed real when Collette told it.
“We lived in a small town in Destin named Fraisse. We were hardly large enough to include on a map. Despite our size, however, we sat near a large highway, and many visitors passed through our gates. My mother and father taught my brothers and your mother and me the art of weaving when we were quite small, and for our tenth birthdays, we were each given a small loom of our own. That way, we could each make our own creations and bring them to market day as well.” She smiled. “It was the gift and birthday each child looked forward to the most.”
As Collette talked, Snow imagined walking through the streets of Collette’s small town, looking at the food and the wares and greeting the people.
Oh, how she wished to meet the people.
Not on the streets of Destin, of course. Destin had turned its back on not only Collette and Snow’s mother, but many who worked in the palace today. Rose wouldn’t go to Destin if someone offered to take her. And that was saying something, considering Rose had never left her little cottage behind the palace or the garden that surrounded it.
But to go to market in her own city, the grand capital of Tumen…
“Snow, are you even listening?”
Rose blinked back to awareness and realized that Collette was shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.
“I’m out of lavender,” Rose said quickly. She turned to the squirrel gnawing on a nut at the edge of the table. “Emre, would you fetch me some dried lavender from the cottage?”
“And that is part of the reason your father won’t let you leave the garden,” Collette said as the squirrel scampered away. “It would attract the wrong kind of attention.”
“There’s no one here to see but us,” Snow said, smiling after the squirrel.
“Perhaps not now, but the moment you met a lovely animal on the street, you would stop then and there and talk to it. You know you would.”
Snow laughed as Emre scurried back to them. “Perhaps. But what good is it to talk to animals if you never do it? Thank you, Emre. Wait. What is that in your mouth? Emre, you naughty squirrel! You’ve been sneaking nuts again!”
Emre, his cheeks still packed full of stolen goods, hurried away to his favorite tree, where he watched Snow suspiciously. But she just waved a hand at him and went back to filling the bags with tea.
“I hear there’s a girl who shall soon be a woman somewhere nearby,” said a deep voice.
Snow turned and grinned. She and Collette stood and offered curtsies as the king entered the garden from the palace entrance. The king opened his arms, and Snow ran into them. He then wrapped his large arms around her in a hug.
“Father!” She looked up and grinned. “You’re two days early!” As she spoke, her heart beat so fast she suddenly felt lightheaded. Was this the day? Had he come to tell her she was free?
“I’m aware of that,” he said, tapping her nose. “But I shall be busy in two day’s time on a journey to trade talks south of here, and I wanted to give you your present early.” As he spoke, he held out a package wrapped in brown cloth and tied neatly with string. “Happy early birthday, Snow.”
Snow grinned and took the gift back to the wooden table, where she carefully worked the string loose, then folded back the cloth.
And gasped.
Diamonds sparkled up at her from the most delicate, ornate tiara she had ever seen. Not that she had seen many. She was never invited to the feasts or balls her father held, of course. But this… The silver had been woven in and out of itself in thin strands like flower stems. Rather than flowers at their ends, however, the diamonds glittered so they were nearly blinding in the noonday sun.
“Here,” he said, taking the tiara from her. “Allow me.”
Rose sucked a breath in as he placed the tiara on her head. As soon as it was fixed there, she jumped up and ran into the cottage, where a small mirror sat on Collette’s nightstand.
“Oh,” she whispered, suddenly feeling breathless. Despite her grass-stained garden apron and the dirt smudged on her cheeks, Snow felt for the first time that she truly was a princess. “I wish…” she began, but the words died on her lips.
“You wish what, love?”
Snow turned to see her father standing in the door. “It becomes you,” he said softly. “As it did your mother.”
“This was mother’s?” Snow put a hand up to touch the tiara, its worth suddenly far greater than she could have first guessed.
He nodded. “She was crowned queen in it.” He paused. “But…what was it that you were just wishing.”
Snow hesitated. She was going to wish that she could go to a ball and wear her stunning crown. Not as its guest of honor. She didn’t need her own ball. But to simply attend…
She knew better than to ask for that, however. So she removed the tiara and studied the way the diamonds glittered when she turned it this way, then that.
“I was hoping,” she said slowly, “that now that I’m of age. Well, I will be i two days… I mean, I was hoping you could let me bring the tea to the village. Just to one or two of the healing houses,” she hurried to add. But from the way his face immediately tightened, she knew what the answer would be. And her heart threatened to fall out of her chest.
“Snow…” He let out a gusty sigh.
“I could wear a disguise!” Snow’s words came out faster and faster. She was no doubt betraying her desperation, but she didn’t care right now. She would lie on the floor and cover herself with dirt if it meant she might finally leave the garden.
“Daughter,” her father said, gently taking her by the hand and pulling her toward him. Snow did her best not to cry, but a tear slipped down her face anyhow.
“I’ve educated you in the best way I know possible,” he said slowly, studying the palm of her hand. “I’ve given you books on the realities of court politics. But you can’t know the truth because…because you haven’t been there.”
That’s not my fault, Snow thought sourly. But she knew better than to interrupt her father.
“You are…more precious to me than I have words for. As was your older sister. But I’ve made enemies. Many enemies. And it cost your sister Nevina her life.” He let out a shuddering sigh. “As it cost your mother her life as well.”
“But Father, the Destinians surely wouldn’t be in your court!” Snow argued. “The loyal ones, anyway.”
Her father shook his head. “You’re too much like your mother to get by unnoticed. Too pale.” He brushed her hair with his hand, a sad, soft smile on his face. “The Destinians drove people like your mother out. Chiens, they were called. And before they did even that, they made them mute so they couldn’t speak. Only by a miracle did they regain their speech.” He sighed. “Then, in an act of revenge, your mother was murdered by one of her own servants only months later. You weren’t even half a year yet.”
“Deniz is allowed in public,” Snow whispered.
Her father gave her a wry smile and mussed her hair. “Deniz had the good sense to be born looking like me. But you…” His eyes went misty. “You were too perfect. And you still are. You’d be a prize to one of their spies or friends. It would be little more than game hunting if one of them were to track you down as they did your mother.” He shook his head, and she could see his resolve hardening. “I won’t lose a daughter to them again.”
Snow couldn’t help it now. The tears ran silently down her cheeks.
“There, now,” he said gently, removing his handkerchief and wiping her cheeks. “You don’t understand, Snow. You’re too sweet not to be noticed. You can’t see it in yourself, I’m sure, but there’s…there’s something about you that I can’t name. It draws people to you. It’s as though being around you induces them to look.”
“Thank you,” Snow whispered, looking at your feet.
“You do know how your mother named you, don’t you?” her father asked.
Snow did know. But she drew in a shuddering breath and whispered, “Tell me.”
“Come, let’s sit beneath the tree.” Her father led her to the apple tree, and when they both sat beneath the bench, he beamed at her. Collette watched with a pinched expression from the bean garden, where she had taken up pruning again.
“Your mother and Collette had come here for a better life after your mother grew sick. The Destinian crown had once supported the churches there, allowing them to give help to the poor and use their money for the care the helpless needed. But King Rodrigue decided to tax the churches and end their support. And…as your mother was too sick to live without help, she and her sister came here.” He looked up and smiled at Collette, who smiled wanly back.
“I fell in love with your mother the moment I laid eyes on her, and we were married less than a month later. It caused no small stir among the nobility, I can tell you.” He laughed deeply, as he did every year. But Snow didn’t mind. The story always made her feel closer to the mother she never knew.
“Deniz was born, first, of course. A great surprise, as we had assumed the Nevina—the daughter of my first wife—would inherit the throne. But once I had a son, I believed myself finished with adding children. As your mother was sick, the doctors believed her to be done with carrying children as well. When you came, though…” His eyes twinkled. “You were the greatest of surprises. Your mother called you the perfect blend of our peoples with your skin as white snow, and hair and eyes as dark as mine.”
“Does…” Snow faltered. “Does the kingdom know I exist?”
Her father sobered quickly. “They don’t. After Nevina was murdered, I quickly hid your mother away here. She was large with child by then, and we knew you would arrive any day. And still. she was killed.”
“So this means I’ll…never leave?” Snow’s throat tightened more with each word. “You promised, though. You said that when I was of age—”
“I’m not saying never,” he said, standing. “Only for now.” He reached down and helped her to her feet. When she was standing, however, he didn’t let go of her hand. “I promise, Snow. One day, you’ll be free. Just…not yet.”
With that, he placed a kiss on her forehead and went back inside the palace.
The garden was too quiet for a long time. The birds seemed to have stopped chattering, and the bugs sat still. Only Emre seemed to remember how to move and scurried into her lap, looking up at her with his large, dark eyes.
“He isn’t wrong, you know,” said Collette quietly.
Snow looked up wearily. “About?”
“You do have something about you that draws attention. The few of us who have seen you have all noticed it immediately. There’s something about you that makes people look.”
Snow didn’t respond. She supposed some people might think she should be grateful for such a gift. But now, it felt more like a curse.
“Would you like to hear another story?” Collette asked.
Snow shrugged, then began filling the bags with the dried tea blossoms again.
Her father had been making promises his whole life. The utmost had been that she would one day leave this prison sanctuary. But Snow was no longer a child. She would be eighteen years in two days. And after her encounter with her father today…
She knew she never would.
What did you think? I know we haven’t seen Henri yet, but I promise he’s coming! Let me know what you think in the comment box below! Also, make sure to sign up for my newsletter list if you haven’t already! Brit’s Bookish Mages (as my newsletter readers are known) get early sneak peeks, book coupons, free bonus material, writing updates, and more!
Very good Brittany! No typos that I saw 😉. The writing and story are very emotional and emotive for me. The question that comes to mind for me is, when Snow does leave, will she have a difficult time transitioning to being around people? Will she have some form of agoraphobia? It just feel that , no matter how much she may want out, she will be very fragile for a while. Just a thought. Thank you for sharing!
It was phenomenal, I didn’t expect Tumen and much less that Snow was Nevina’s SISTER!!!…it’s a good turn of events, it’s going to be great when Henry meets her…what still intrigues me is that He will be the hunter…and who will be the villain of the story…it will be even more interesting when Ever and Isa realize who Snow is family…what a joy!!! Henry Fortier has history!!!!!🎊🥳🥳🥰
I’m so glad you loved it! I’m falling more and more in love with this story as it writes itself. Although…it ought to. Lol. I’ve been working on the thing for five-ish years. LOL.
Thank you! And yes, I’ve been playing a lot with her character and her “gift” as she’s introduced to the real world. It’s been fascinating.
I am already intrigued!!! I am having a challenging time ‘waiting’ for it!!! I love Snow already…and have loved Henri since his first introduction to us (Genny too).
I am so excited with the twist of Snow being from Tumen. The love the stories of ‘the huntsman and Snow White’. One question, why is she also Rose’?
That would be because I’m writing two manuscripts at the same time and can’t keep my characters in the right one. LOL.