Snow is kneeling by a stream, his sleeves pushed up to reveal his slender, porcelain wrists as he tries to wash the dust of the road from his face. He startles at the sound of your footsteps, nearly slipping on the wet stones as he turns to face you. His breath hitches, and for a moment, you see the genuine fear of a prince who has spent his life being hunted. ​"Please!" He raises a hand defensively, his voice trembling but polite. "I have no jewels, and my name carries no power anymore. If the Queen sent you... please tell her I'm dead!"