Page 32 of Heart of Snow
“Do you laugh at me?” I asked.
“No, I respect your answer. It does you credit.” He nodded in the direction of the target. “Should we collect the arrows?” Trekking through the underbrush, he left without awaiting my reply.
His response surprised me, and I warmed from the small praise. Leaning the bow against a tree, I followed Friedrich to the target, picking my way through the foliage.
“What about you?” I bent down to collect an arrow. “Paint me a portrait of the future Frau Huntsman.”
“Huntsman’s page,” he corrected, untangling an arrow from a bush. “I haven’t thought on it much. I’m not in a position to make an offer.”
“In a position or not, I can’t believe you haven’t seen a fewfräuleinswho excited your admiration. Come. Tell me what she’ll be like. Dark or fair? Thin, or fat from the feasts of her wealthy merchant father?”
“Poor,” he answered. “Poor enough that whatever I provide will feel a blessing.”
I scoffed. “And she’d best be unlearned too, I suppose, so that the knowledge you impart will feel a blessing?” I very much disliked the image of Friedrich with this imaginary woman. “For your sake, I pray you marry someone more learned, wealthy, and attractive than yourself.”
His eyes wrinkled as his lips tilted in a half smile. “Do you think me attractive?”
My face went hot. “Oh! No, I-I didn’t mean... wait, notno.Youareattractive. It’s just—I hadn’t meant...” I trailed off, hoping he’d readily jump in to dismiss my awkwardness, but he continued staring at me with that little smirk, as if awaiting an explanation. I hoped he was disappointed when I turned my back and searched for another arrow, seeing one well beyond the tree and far past my usual range. Though the distance was impressive, the way to retrieve it was difficult, with grasping holly rising to knee height on either side of a narrow deer path. I started down the trail, more focused on preserving my skirts than minding my footing, and stepped onto an unbalanced rock, which teetered beneath my shoe. As the rock tipped to one side, I dropped my arrows in a scattered jumble and fell backward, bottom first, into a thicket of holly. Each prickly leaf clawed at me, entangling my hair and skirts. The more I twisted to escape, the more the holly grasped at me, piercing my clothes and flesh.
I was stuck, and as humiliating as it was, I needed help.
“Friedrich!”
His laughter reached me before I could twist my head enough to see him, but eventually he stood before me with one hand cradling his elbow, the other covering his mouth. He pulled his hand back, opening his mouth as if he might say something, but closed it again and merely shook his head. Crouching down on the deer path beside me, he drew a short dagger from his boot and pinched a limb with two fingers. He stretched the prickly limb straight, cut cleanly through it, and tossed it aside.
“You know this is your penance for nearly breaking my rib.” He couldn’t hold back his smile as he sliced through another sprig.
“I think I’d prefer a pilgrimage,” I grumbled. “At least then I wouldn’t have to endure your exultant smirk.”
He chuckled, his breath warm on my neck as he cut a twig from my shoulder. “True. But with you gone, where will I find your equal for such charming blunders?”
Had he just admitted to liking my company? Or was it only a jest? Best to assume he wasn’t serious. “You almost sound as though you’d miss me,” I teased back, rubbing at my newly freed arms to blur the pinpoint pain.
“Maybe I would.” His voice was quiet now, almost earnest, and though I tried to turn my head to meet his eye, the silk cords of my hair netting were still hopelessly ensnared. “Don’t struggle.”
Friedrich tucked the dagger into his boot and reached toward me but hesitated, taking a deep breath. Avoiding my questioning gaze, he clenched his jaw, again reaching his hands behind my head. I expected his grasp to be as fierce as his looks, but he surprised me with his gentleness as he patiently pulled the netting loose from the holly. Neither of us spoke while he worked with his arms around me, his face so near that, even in the shade of the trees, I could see the freckles dotting his cheekbones and a trace of dark stubble shadowing his chin.
Another sprig flipped upward as Friedrich set it free, moving his fingers to pick at the next set of tangles. His hands on my hair made me shudder, and I closed my eyes, breathing in his now-familiar scent of straw and cloves and listening to his breath beside my ear. It was surprisingly quick and unsteady.
Odd.
I opened my eyes, alert to his every movement as a suspicion formed in my head. Though he avoided my gaze, he could not conceal the swallow tugging his throat while he pulled the last tangle of my hair netting loose. He moved quickly to free my skirts, and I leaned forward to help, keeping a keen watch on his nimble fingers. They were cut and bleeding. And trembling.
I stared at his shaking hands, not needing any experience with men or any explanation from Belinda to understand what they meant.
I had done it. I’d somehow softened Friedrich’s heart of steel enough to care for me.
Instead of my spirits rising with victory or elation, the only sensation I had was cold and leaden, and it took up its familiar place as it slunk down to my stomach.
Guilt.
Chapter 14
Margaretha
Belinda waited until I’d steppedout of the gown to hold it up to the window. Pinpricks of sunlight shone through tears dotting the sleeves and skirts. She threw it over the bed, then looked at me, shaking her head. “The petticoat too? You’ve blood drops everywhere.”
“The holly was quite sticky.” I plucked a sharp leaf from my hair, and Belinda chuckled.
