Page 16 of This Frozen Heart

I toss the chain behind me and carefully place the key back into the pouch of the belt and then put the belt— and all the weapons attached to it— on top of a cupboard that is higher than she is tall.

When I turn back, Gerta is staring intently at the cupboard.

“Think about escape later,” I order, tugging off my boots. Glancing at my wrist compass, I see that the screen must have been broken in my tussle with Gerta during the blizzard. Moisture has gotten inside and damaged the interior. Commander Muller will not be pleased.

Gerta crosses her arms. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Yes, you do. Take off your clothes.”

Startling, Gerta turns to me just as I shed my soaked trousers. “What are you doing?!”

“Surviving. You’ve lived here your entire life. You don’t need an Imparian to tell you how dangerous wearing soaked clothing is when you’re trying to raise your temperature.”

Gerta staggers backward as I peel down my stockings, and one would think she’s never seen a man in braies before. But considering the company she keeps and the living arrangements, that seems unlikely. Honestly, I should remove those, too, but I fear she really would flee then. They are partially dry, so it will only be a little suffering to keep from fully scandalizing her.

“I intend to take you in alive, so please comply before I’m forced to use force.”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not,Captain.” Gerta tears her gaze away from my chest to glare at me. “I would rather die.”

“You seem to prefer death to a great many things, but that goes against my objective, I’m afraid.” I cross the room and collect one blanket, using it to dab at the moisture that soaked through my skin, but not too much lest I make it unusable for warmth. As it is, I wish I had thought to pack a cap to keep my half-frozen hair from dripping on my skin.

When I return, Gerta has removed her fur cap that is dripping as much as my hair. Her gloves and boots are beside it, but she appears to be struggling with the ties keeping her other layers in place.

“Do you require assistance?” I ask.

“No!” She gives me a look that tells me that even without a knife, she could slice me apart.

“Very well.” I move as close to the fire as I dare without singing the blanket I hold between us. “But hurry. Strip down to your smallclothes if they are dry enough. We won’t lose much heat from them.”

Gerta makes a noise, maybe a question, but her lips are so blue I’m surprised she’s spoken as much as she has.

I turn toward the door to make sure she doesn’t try to make another escape attempt. Not that I think she is capable of it any longer.

“Don’t worry, lassie,” I vow as my body heals faster than hers is capable, “I will get us both out of this alive.”

Chapter Nine

Gerta

My frozen fingers do not want to move, but I don’t want Kay’s hands on me even more.

He’s not wrong about this being the necessary path for survival. And now that the blanket is between us, I’m less afraid that he’s seeking to take advantage of me.

I tug off my layers of furs, moving closer to the fire each item I I disrobe. Finally, I am down to my own pair of braies that are masculine but much more pragmatic for wearing under my leggings and breeches than petticoats are.

My chest is covered by homemade bindings since no Gaelia-loving woman would submit to the corsets that Constantinium ladies wear. For the first time in my life, I wish I wore it if only to have more coverage even if I’m told those garments do not add to warmth.

Warmth . . . I’m not planning on leaving this fire as I try to rub life back into my skin. This cabin is expertly built to keep out drafts, but the cold seems to live in my bones now.

Speaking of this cabin . . . Did Kay trek all that wayuphillinstead of taking the path? It was a struggle to see my hand in front of my face, so I cannot blame him for getting lost, but getting lost up a mountain is something else.

Unless the cabin found us. If it’s the Snow Queen’s trap for travelers like everyone says, who’s to say it doesn’t hunt?

I shudder from more than just the cold.

“Are you finished?” Kay calls.

I mumble my assent. Why can’t he make this easier for me and remain silent where I can’t see him? Because after what he’s done, I never want to see him again— but especially not while he wears only his tight small clothes.

---