Page 422 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 29

Even after spending half the night in the great hall with Snow, talking and drinking far more mead than was good for her, Rossa woke at dawn. Only to discover she'd never left the great hall – she'd slept on the hearth, wrapped in her cloak and a blanket someone must have brought from somewhere.

But Snow…was nowhere to be seen.

She raced outside, hoping to catch him before he departed, but the bailey was empty. Cursing, she headed back inside for some warmer clothes, so she might follow him back to the forest.

Only to run into Mother at the bottom of the stairs. Whose grave gaze told her she wasn't going anywhere until the feast was over.

"Is your magical bear gone?" Mother asked.

He wasn't hers. He was…tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Tears Rossa blinked ruthlessly away as she nodded, not trusting her voice.

"He left you a gift."

It took Rossa a moment before she followed her mother's pointing finger to the table where they'd eaten dinner yesterday. The plates, cups and jugs were gone, replaced by four fat fish, each as long as her arm, arranged in a square on the tabletop. All bearing the unmistakeable marks of a bear's claws about their gills.

He'd hooked them out of the water with his bare hands, Rossa realised.

"And is that…mistletoe?"

Rossa blinked. Sure enough, her mother was right – a sprig of mistletoe sat at the head of each fish, marking the corners of the square. And inside it were charcoal scratchings, almost like writing, as if done by a child, or…

A bear's claw.

Rossa turned her head this way and that, trying to make sense of the words, if indeed they were words. Then she rounded the table, and they became clear.

"My thanks," she read. "A blessed Yule to you and yours from Prince Boris, the Snow White Bear."

Her legs wouldn't hold her anymore, so Rossa sat down heavily on the nearest bench. His name was Boris, and he'd given her fish for Christmas. And, best of all…

"Thank all the angels and saints, he's not a knight," she breathed.

"No matter what that bear may be, it doesn't change what day it is. You're needed here, at the Christmas feast, not haring off after some bear in the woods," Mother said.

Rossa nodded. She wanted to run off after him, to ask a thousand, nay, a million questions, but her thoughts whirled too fast for even her to follow right now. It would be better to wait, until she'd had time to reflect. She'd make more sense then.

"And you need to be at your best. You are their lady, and they expect you to look your part. Go upstairs and bathe – your feast day gown is in my chamber, and you're not to come down until you're dressed and your hair is properly arranged," Mother said.

Yes. Rossa had seen the silk gown her mother had laid out, and she'd never dare venture into the woods wearing that. The dress was a death trap, with lace and ruffles and the neckline was so low every time she looked down, she could see her own breasts.

She didn't want to go into the forest wearing it. She didn't want to step into the great hall wearing it. Every man in the room would stare at her, thinking lustful thoughts, and, when they'd drunk enough of her mother's ale, some of them would talk about them, loud enough for her to hear. And her mother would not let her throw even a single fireball at them for it. Most unfair.

Men and their urges were the bane of her existence. No wonder she preferred the company of a bear.

"Yes, Mother," Rossa said.

But Mother wasn't finished yet. "When the winter is over and your father returns, I'll insist he take you to court. Whichever one suits you best, though I'll leave the choice up to him. When I was your age, I had a town to take care of, an estate to manage, and then a young son to raise. You have…nothing to hold you here. You should see some of the world, and find your place in it, for you're so much like your father. He was not content in the town where he grew up, either. There is a place in the world for you, Rossa. I don't know if it involves bears or princes or…things I've never seen, but can only dream of, but your father will be the one who can show you some of the world's wonders while you find it." She managed a smile. "Consider it my Yule gift to you. When your father comes home from the Emperor's court, he will take you, or we shall have words."

And while the world feared her father, Rossa knew her mother ruled his heart, so it would be as she decreed.

"Thank you, Mother," she said, her heart much lighter as she raced up the stairs. The gown was there, as impractical as she remembered, but she'd have to get used to such things if she was to go with her father to court. She'd have to learn to fight despite what she was forced to wear, or use weapons that did not depend on her agility or speed.

Like magic…

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