Carved in Ice and Glass: A Snow White Fairy Tale Romance

5. The Princess

My victory over the assassin was short-lived. True to his word, he proved to me exactly how much of a pain in the ass he could be.

After the seven human nobles left Knockspur to return to their respective provinces, I was ready to set off immediately. The palace was in Taerin, the capital of our Winter Court. The large city was a five-day’s ride from Knockspur, if one traveled with minimal stops. My seven allies had agreed to meet me in Taerin at the next full moon, along with any supporters and troops they could round up by then. That was three weeks away, and at this rate, I was concerned I wouldn’t make it in time.

After agreeing to our bargain, Theron the dreaded assassin had purchased the finest meal the pub served, followed by several helpings of dessert and ale to wash it all down. I’d had to sit there, watching him eat and drink, with flecks of food staining his golden brown beard, his charcoal eyes filled with mirth at the sight of my frustration. After his lengthy meal, he then insisted he was too inebriated to ride a horse and would need to stay the night.

I allowed him that much, only because it gave me time to return to my cottage and pack the items I’d need, throwing in a few extra weapons for good measure. I had a feeling they would be useful—if not for facing foes, then for threatening the hunter.

The following morning, Theron slept until noon, and then asked for a very thorough tour of Knockspur. When I finally insisted we start our journey, he claimed to have twisted his ankle rather badly, though I knew this was a farce; when asked if he was truly injured, he would not answer me directly because he could not lie.

At long last, he agreed to start our journey, but when I headed toward the woods, he faltered.

“The stables are this way.” He gestured down the narrow road.

I smirked. “I won’t be riding a horse.”

He merely blinked at me, and I relished the look of utter shock and confusion on his face. Without another word, I turned on my heel and strode confidently into the forest, knowing he would follow.

I followed the worn path through the foliage, knowing my way despite the fresh powder of snow that masked the well-worn trail. To my surprise, the hunter followed with lithe grace, hardly making a sound. Not a twig snapped. The snow didn’t even crunch with his steps.

Then I remembered: he was an assassin. A hunter. He was probably as comfortable in the woods as I was.

“Perhaps your fae magic is stealth,” I said over my shoulder. I had never heard a person walk so quietly. The only reason my own steps didn’t echo in the wood was because I knew exactly where to step. But it had taken me years of practice.

“Perhaps,” he said vaguely. He was much closer than I’d thought, so I quickened my pace, if only to put distance between us.

It didn’t take me long to find the grove where Mauro liked to graze. Sure enough, I found him, poised and elegant, his magnificent antlers brushing snow off the branches as he turned his head to blink slowly at my approach.

“Hi there,” I said with a wide smile. “Remember that journey I was telling you about? It’s happening sooner than we thought.”

Behind me, Theron stilled. “Are you talking to that stag?”

I almost snorted at the note of incredulity in his voice. It gave me an absurd amount of pleasure to cause him such bewilderment. Ignoring his question, I reached up and scratched Mauro underneath his chin. His eyes closed and he rumbled a growl of approval.

“If you say so, Snow,” he grumbled. Despite his majestic form, he was almost as grumpy as Frisk. “But only because you give the best neck rubs.”

A startled noise sounded from behind me, and I bit back another grin. I didn’t often get to show off my relationship with faerie creatures, so I planned to savor it.

But once again, Theron surprised me.

“He’s fae,” he murmured.

He didn’t sound surprised; he sounded wary.

Slowly, I turned to look at him. His dark eyes appraised the stag with a predatory intensity, like one beast assessing another.

Mauro lowered his head to glare at Theron. “Who is this? I don’t like him. He smells like blood.”

“This is my companion,” I replied. “Don’t worry, it’s not by choice. But he won’t harm you. Right, Theron?”

Theron started and glanced at me as if he’d forgotten I was there. “You trust this creature?”

I stiffened at the accusation in his tone. “Yes, I do. More than I trust you, as a matter of fact.”

He scoffed. “Then you’re a fool. Fae beasts are not to be trusted.”

Mauro started pawing at the snow at his feet. “I really don’t like this fellow.”

“I don’t, either,” I muttered. “But we’re stuck with him. If he causes you trouble, you have my permission to skewer him with your antlers.” I shot Theron my widest smile. “My bargain was only to spare you from my stepmother. Death by other means is perfectly acceptable.”

He scowled in response, and I chuckled. Mauro obediently sank to his knees while I climbed atop him.

“And I suppose I’m just meant to walk by your side, am I?” Theron said, spreading his arms.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll ride behind me.”

Theron went rigid. “I beg your pardon?” The words, while polite, held the hint of a growl that put even Mauro’s rumbling voice to shame.

“Mauro is the only fae beast strong enough to carry us both.” I settled into position on Mauro’s back, my legs on either side of him. “Unless you’d like to find a wild stag or horse instead?”

“What about the stables?” he bit out.

“I can’t risk leaving a trail for others to follow. Stable hands can be bribed for information.” I cocked my head at him and narrowed my eyes. “Besides, I’d wager you spent all your coin on your lavish meal last night.”

Theron’s gaze darkened, and, to my surprise, his cheeks flushed. I barked out a surprised laugh. I had indeed caught him. I was sure he was looking forward to providing yet another obstacle to our journey when he revealed his empty coin purse.

“So, it’s your choice, Sir Hunter,” I said. “You can try to keep up on foot, or you can climb up behind me.”

“And if I refuse to leave until I find a proper mount?” Theron crossed his arms.

Mauro snorted in derision. “You won’t find a mount with half my wit or speed.”

I tapped my finger to my chin in mock contemplation. “Well, say I stumbled upon a band of robbers on my journey, and I, a fair maiden, lack the skill to fight them off. Had you journeyed with me, you would have been able to protect me. But without you, I will be injured. Killed, no doubt.” I flashed another wide smile. “You would cause me harm, Sir Hunter, thus breaking your first bargain with me.”

“First?” Mauro asked. “You made more than one bargain with this imbecile?”

Theron’s jaw was stiff with his rage. “That isn’t true. It wouldn’t be violating the terms of our bargain.”

“No harm will come to you,” I quoted smugly.

“I said when you’re around me. If I’m not with you, it doesn’t count.”

“Are you willing to take that risk?” I angled my head at him and waited as he considered this.

There it was. He flinched, a muscle in his temple throbbing from the strain of the fae bond that held him to our bargain.

He hissed a breath from his teeth. “Very well, princess,” he spat. “You win this round.”

A delighted chuckle escaped me as he stomped toward the stag, preparing to swing his leg over the side.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Mauro huffed. “Grab a log to use as a mounting block.”

“You didn’t demand a mounting block for her,” Theron argued, and I had to laugh again at the lunacy of this deadly assassin arguing with a stag.

“I trust her,” Mauro said. “And she’s much smaller than you.”

“Hey.” I gently swatted one of his antlers.

“Just a fact, princess. You are quite petite.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not as petite as Penelope.” But this wasn’t saying much; our red-haired human friend was often mistaken for a child, though she was older than my twenty years.

“Even the mice are not as petite as Penelope.”

To my annoyance, Theron was smirking. I snapped my fingers at him. “Mounting block. Now.”

“I don’t take orders from you, little princess.”

I refused to rise to his baiting, instead turning my head away so I didn’t have to look at his smug face. A loud thump indicated he’d found a log. I scooted forward to make room for him as he used the log to hoist himself atop Mauro. To his credit, the great stag didn’t even groan or shift from the excessive weight on his back, though I was certain he wasn’t accustomed to carrying two travelers.

“You all right?” I asked, rubbing the side of his neck.

“Don’t patronize me,” he snapped.

I withdrew my hand as if he’d burned me, remembering that Mauro hated to be coddled. Theron adjusted his seating behind me, his chest flush against my back and his warmth surrounding me. I was irritated to discover he had a very pleasing scent of willow bark and a brisk, earthy smell that reminded me of the mountains.

“Don’t fall off,” I tossed over my shoulder before Mauro broke into a gallop.

Theron yelped, his arms tightening around my waist to keep himself secure on Mauro’s back. I wanted to laugh, but the sudden closeness of his body was unnerving. I swallowed, choosing to ignore this opportunity to tease him, and instead focused on maintaining my own balance. I’d ridden Mauro plenty of times, but with Theron’s added weight, it felt as bouncy and unstable as my first ride. I tucked my legs closer, my knees digging into Mauro’s fur.

“Watch it,” Mauro huffed.

“I don’t want to fall!” I argued.

“I’m offended. You think I would let that happen?”

I relaxed my legs slightly, my heart softening at the indignation in the stag’s voice. Mauro had never failed me before. I trusted him with my life.

“Are we truly to ride this creature the entire way to Taerin?” the assassin asked.

“Yes. He’s rather good at navigating through the woods.”

“We aren’t taking roads?”

“Of course not. I thought you were supposed to be stealthy! What would people think if they saw me riding a stag?”

“That you’re insane. And rightly so.”

I jabbed my elbow into his gut, but my arm met hard muscle, and he didn’t even flinch.

“Will you two be quiet?” Mauro barked. “You’re distracting me.”

I bit back a grin but fell silent. Generally, I didn’t speak while riding—mostly because Mauro hated conversation. This would definitely be a trying journey for him.

For all three of us.