Epilogue
Everyone is dead.
Imogen… Does this mean she lives? I peer out from my hiding spot.
The front door to our cottage still singes with smoke.
It was the iron cauldron that saved me. Fortunately, I’m tiny enough to fit inside.
I climb out, covered in soot. My stomach knots as I gaze upon the charred corpses of Mama and Papa.
It all happened so fast…
First, there was a loud explosion. Papa bolted and barricaded the door before grabbing his knife. He stood in front of me and Mama. But the first fireball set the thatched roof ablaze.
The screams of my village came next. It was chaos.
“We are under attack,” someone screamed. “Imogen has cursed us,” another one shouted.
No, my sister would never do that. Not on purpose. The screams grew louder. The stench of burned flesh and feces filled the air, suffocating me with its foul odor.
Mama wrapped my face in a wet rag just before another fireball leaped into the cottage, landing in between us. “Get inside the cauldron,” Mama yelled. “Save yourself!”
I couldn’t reach them. We were surrounded by flames on all sides. I did as she told and cried myself to sleep inside the vessel that Mama cooked her stews in. I cried and cried and prayed for the gods to spare me.
But I don’t want to be alone. So then I prayed for death to take me too… And yet here I stand.
Outside, the smell of rotting flesh is palpable; it twists the bile in my gut. I have to swallow hard to keep it down. Be strong, Lucy.
The cottages are nothing but skeletal frames, burnt to a crisp.
I spin around and around, desperate to spot some form of life.
I ransack the piles of rubble like a mad woman.
Over and over again until I must accept my fate.
Everyone is dead, and I cannot stay here.
But where will I go? Imogen would know what to do.
But she is gone too. I have nothing but the tattered clothes on my back.
A well of emotion bursts in my chest, sending me to my knees.
I hunch over, sobbing into my hands as the snow falls harder.
I will surely die of frostbite before I can find shelter.
Ours is the only village as far as the eye can see.
My tears fall so hard I can barely see through them. I hiccup and choke on my own exasperated breaths. What a cruel fate to be spared from fire only to perish from ice. That is, if I don’t starve to death first.
This wasn’t supposed to be my fate. I’m not fierce or brave like Imogen. Nor am I tough like Papa. No… I am too much like Mama—soft and docile and easily startled. While we are only a year apart, I looked up to Imogen for everything. How will I survive without her?
Another fit of uncontrollable sobs seizes my chest, and I think I may hyperventilate. I gaze past the jagged tree line, into the dark brush where monsters lurk. My skin prickles. The bushes shift. It’s either the wind or something is watching me.
Great. I’m to be eaten by wolves before my stomach caves in on itself. Burning alive doesn’t sound as bad in comparison. I’m such a stupid girl! I should’ve followed Imogen into the woods. She would’ve saved us both. Or perhaps I would’ve gotten us both killed.
I’m a nuisance. A silly, helpless girl who can’t even boil soup right. Mama always said if I wanted to find a husband, I’d better be good at other things since cooking was not in my skill set.
Dear gods. Is that the sound of hooves?
I spring up from the charred ground and spin in circles, searching for the source of the noise. My breath hitches when I spot the carriage. It races across the frozen fields, pulled by elk instead of horses. How peculiar…
I hope whoever is inside is to be my savior and not another threat to my life. When it comes to men, most are murderous and depraved. I will gladly take my chances with the wolves.
I dart behind a crispy hay bale, its edges blackened, and hide.
The carriage charges into the village square and comes to a halt. With its shiny black paint and golden tassels, it is the fanciest carriage I’ve ever seen. The kind from the fables we used to read as children.
The elk rake the snow with their hooves, impatient. They sniff the air like bloodhounds. I clutch my chest as my heart thumps inside it.
I hold my breath when the carriage door creaks open.
A man’s arm extends out first, holding a black cane.
He thrusts it into the snow before fully emerging.
I clasp my mouth to keep quiet, unsure of my predicament.
For, it is not an old man as I had assumed, but a beautiful young gentleman with black hair and pale skin.
His thick velvet cloak is the only drop of color in this barren land, ruby red like the blood on the snow.
He leans on the cane, semi-hobbling as he walks through the rubble. “Anyone there?” he calls out. His voice is deep and melodic, buttery, like how I imagine the princes of the fables would sound.
He takes another shaky step. Despite his dependency on the cane, he’s of a strong build. His shoulders are broad and his thighs thick and muscular. “Don’t be afraid. I come bearing gifts.”
The man seems harmless and not very agile. He could help me. Or he could hurt me. Do I risk braving it out here in the elements? But in the pit of my stomach, a darker fear claws. If I let him leave without seeing me, I will lose my chance to get to safety. He’s a rich man, that much is certain.
My teeth chatter as I watch him scour the village. He sighs and removes a sack from his cloak. “Are you hungry?” he calls out again, confident that someone is indeed out here hiding.
My belly betrays me with a rumble when I glimpse him sliding out a loaf of crusty bread. He tears off a chunk and shoves it into his mouth. “Mmm,” he hums. “I have plenty to share.”
I can’t control my hunger any longer. Without waiting to see if this is a trap, I spring up from my hiding spot. “I-I am hungry.”
His face lights up when our eyes lock. He gazes at the length of me from top to bottom, head to toe. “You poor thing. Come, let’s get you warm and fed.”
I don’t move, like a deer caught in the woods. “I-I can’t pay you, sir.”
His smile is warm and kind as it matches his eyes. “No need. I can see your misfortune from here. Consider it a gift. No strings attached.”
Mama warned me about men like him, but Papa would tell me to be pleasant. That a man’s charms should never go wasted. Imogen would tell me to do whatever I can to survive. And so I must. At least for the tiny chance that someday we will be reunited again.
I stumble forward, unsteady on my frozen legs. “I don’t want any trouble, my lord.”
“Oh dear gods, you’re shivering.”
I whimper when he pulls me underneath his cloak and wraps it around the two of us. I’ve never been pressed up against a man before. It’s… lovely. He smells like cinnamon and pine, with subtle traces of vanilla and smoke.
I don’t realize how close I am to freezing to death until I feel the heat from his body and the softness of his cloak. I shudder against him. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He pulls me toward the carriage. “Allow me to get you to safety. I can take you wherever you wish to go.”
I stare into his eyes, bright and evergreen. “I have nowhere to go.”
Something flickers in his gaze, sending little spasms between my thighs. His grip tightens around me. “Then you shall come with me to my palace. It would be rude of me to leave you out here all alone.”
Palace? Maybe he’s an actual prince.
There are some who might warn me to be wary of a handsome stranger appearing out of nowhere bearing gifts.
But my belly is aching for food, and I’m not far off from losing my limbs to the cold.
He is polite and respectable. I will figure out another plan after I get a hot meal and some clothes that don’t smell like rotting corpses.
And oh, what I wouldn’t give for a clean bed to sleep in.
I haven’t even allowed myself to process the deaths of my family.
Sensing my apprehension, he tilts my chin up gently. “Tell me your name, darling.”
I flatten my palms on his chest since I have no idea where else to put them that wouldn’t be deemed inappropriate. “I’m Lucy. What shall I call you?”
His grin widens. “I’m known by many names in my lands. It depends on who you ask. But you, my dear, may call me by my favorite one… Krampus.”
It’s an unusual name, one not common around here. I already suspected he’s from somewhere far more decadent than the shambles of this village. His opulence and charm don’t belong here with the grey and dismal.
“All right. I will come with you, my lord. Thank you for your kindness and generosity. When I am able to repay you, I certainly will.”
Krampus winks. “I have a feeling we will be able to work something out. Give me your hand, darling.”
He holds me steady while I climb into the luxurious carriage. The seats are lined with thick fur, soothing my aching muscles the second I sink into them. He follows and takes the seat across from me.
With just a tap of his cane, the elk spring into motion, and we are being driven away from the wreckage that used to be my home. He eyes me curiously and with fervor. “Open that chest and find something lovely to wear. That dress you’re in is filthy and not fit for a lady such as yourself.”
I nod and do as he says. There is something about the way he commands me that is both intimidating and endearing.
He oozes power as much as he does warmth.
But the more I stare into his eyes, the more a gnawing feeling forms in the pit of my stomach.
Something that tells me I wouldn’t want to cross him.
As I rifle through the collection, I try not to think about why this strange man has a chest full of dresses.
If I let my mind wander, panic will set in, and I will appear ungrateful.
Instead, I keep my head down until I find a simple blue dress with long sleeves and a high neckline.
But what I really want is a thick blanket and a blazing fire.
I set the garment in my lap and fold my trembling hands over it. “Thank you, my lord. This will be perfect.”
He leans back and licks his lips. “Well, try it on now. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.”
The ache in my gut twists. Every hair on the back of my neck stands erect. “Um, right here? Surely that is indecent, my lord. I will wait until we reach your next stop.”
Krampus smirks. He runs the end of his cane up my leg, lifting the hem of my tattered dress. “Don’t be shy, Lucy. You’ll feel more comfortable in my carriage once you’re dressed appropriately. Besides, you have nothing that I haven’t already seen before.”
I feel my cheeks heat. Is he right? Am I being prudish? Just because he wants me to change out of my destroyed dress doesn’t mean he’s up to no good. But then why does the thought of him watching me send little shivers up my spine?
I have never been alone with a strange man before. But it was bound to happen eventually. And I have just turned of age last fortnight, before the attack on my village. Why am I so nervous?
I nod. “Of course. Thank you.”
He watches me like a hawk, his gaze flittering over every movement as I pull the tattered dress over my head.
I bite my lip, my cheeks flushing. He doesn’t break eye contact even with my bare breasts exposed. I quickly pull on the new dress and settle back down into my seat.
“You look like one of the dolls in my workshop. Remarkable.” He leans forward to help me finish buttoning the sleeves. “In fact, you remind me of one that was stolen from me, Lucy.”
I swallow hard, still unsure if this man is going to eat me alive. “Someone stole one of your dolls?”
He snickers. “Yes, tragically, before I had a chance to play with her.”
Every nerve in my body is urging me to leap out of this carriage and run. “I’m sorry, Mr. Krampus. I hope you find it, I mean… her.”
He tips my chin up with the end of his cane. “Do you know what else people call me, darling? Hmm?”
I shake my head, afraid my voice will betray me if I speak.
He drags the cane down my neck and across my chest. “Saint Nick. Do I look like a saint to you?”
My blood runs cold. No. He lost Imogen, so he’s going to kill me instead. I draw in a sharp breath. “I have never seen a saint before, so I cannot say.”
Krampus’s lips curl into a devious smirk. “You will meet more where I’m taking you. Then I will ask you again. And you can decide if I look like a saint or a monster.”
“Where are you taking me?” I white-knuckle the fur seats. This man is unravelling, changing from a sweet, pious gentleman into a cold and calculated miser.
He sets his cane back down on the carriage floor and gazes out the window. “To the North. Where no one ever goes. I’ve been so lonely, Lucy.”
His eyes are pitch black when his gaze meets mine again. I shrink back against the seat. “Um, forgive me sir… but what are you planning to do with me?”
“What I always do when I get a new doll…” He leans forward and wraps his hand around my throat. “I’m going to play with you.”
Now I wish I had perished in the fire…