To start reading from the beginning, click here: https://amandavshane.substack.com/p/snow-maiden
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“What have you there, Vasilli?”
Ilya always rose first out of everyone. Eyebrows raised in curiosity, he walked toward Vasilli and Bellani, his keen eyes flashing from his king to the bundle he held.
“Take her,” Vasilli handed Nika down to his friend, dismounted, then took her up in his arms again.
“And where did you come from?” Ilya asked, brushing at the layer of snow that covered the furs with his hand.
She still didn’t wake, but turned her face into Vasilli’s chest, snuggling closer to him in a way that made him loathe to put her down. Snow crystals sparkled on her cheeks and eyelashes under the morning sun. The need to get her into the shelter of his tent made Vasilli deaf to his friend’s question. It worried him she hadn’t stirred at all during their mad dash through the woods. When Ilya wouldn’t stop whisking at her blankets, he turned, pulling her out of the soldier’s reach before making a brusque answer.
“I found her in the forest last night.”
“Through there?” Ilya pointed back at the trees. His eyes rounded in surprise. “Isn’t that…?”
“Yes,” Vasilli cut him off, “the place is enchanted.”
“The haunted forest,” Ilya muttered in awe. “We’ve always avoided it.”
“Believe me, it was only through happenstance I found my way there last night.”
A light came into Ilya’s eyes, as if he hadn’t even heard him.
“Is it true what they say about the women?” He wagged his eyebrows, his trademark grin surfacing—the one that made all the village girls swoon. Vasilli gave him a dark look, but it didn’t faze him. “You know… the Winter Witch’s band of enchantresses? It’s said they lure men to their lair, fuck them senseless, then leave them to wander the woods, blind for the rest of their days.”
He smiled wider, the jesting fool. He strokeed his dark beard as though he truly pondering. Vasilli blew out an exasperated breath, shaking his head at Ilya’s antics. He turned away from him to go into his tent. Any other time, he might have engaged his friend’s humor, made up some story of naked women to appease him, but he was too tired at the moment and he had to see to the maid.
“How is your eyesight, Vasilli?” Ilya shouted after him with a laugh.
Ignoring that question entirely, Vasilli stopped at the entrance to his tent and turned back to him.
“Send food and wine,” he said. “Tell the others to be ready to leave once the sun is fully up. We’ll go the long way home. Wouldn’t want any seducing wood nymphs to spirit you away, my friend.”
He ended that last bit with a wink, then hurried under the flap of his tent. Inside, he laid Nika down on his pallet, arranged the furs over her, and dried the melted snow from her face and hair with his hands. Her skin felt warm to the touch, which pleased him. He looked down at her, wondering all over again where she might be from. For all that he’d found her stealing bread at a fair, she didn’t look like a normal thieves’ camp urchin. She was clean, for one thing, her fair skin smooth and soft as ivory. His thoughts went back to what the leader of the snowflake fairies had said about taking the girl home.
She moaned a little, bringing his thoughts up short. It was a soft, feminine sound that tugged at his groin, causing him to stiffen under the front of his breaches. Vasilli gave his head a shake. What was it about this slip of a girl that him so tied in knots? Yesterday, he’d driven his men to the brink of mutiny searching for her. Then last night… lured by fairies to a wolves’ den? He must be going mad. It was all so unlike him, yet here he was, mesmerized by her sleeping form. She twisted on the pallet, moving the furs and catching the neck of her dress underneath her as she rolled to her side. The woolen fabric pulled away, revealing the top of her shoulder where it gaped off her upper back. Vasilli grabbed it and gently pulled.
Just then, the tent flap opened. One of the younger men from their group carried a plate filled with food and a skein of wine inside. Bors followed.
“My lord,” the older man said.
Vasilli covered Nika with the furs again, noting the youth’s eyes went straight to her hair. They widened at the novelty of it now that the snow had melted to reveal its unique color.
“Just set it over there, Pytor.” Vasilli told the boy, indicating the one small table in the tent.
Their hunting party travelled light, but he was king after all. He had a few spare luxuries and the extra men to carry them.
Pytor stole one more glance at Nika, then exited the tent.
“Bors?” Vasilli asked.
The gruff man wore a scowl, but didn’t he always? Bushy brows drawn inward, his stare stayed locked on Nika. When Vasilli cleared his throat, his advisor looked up. He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, but soon recovered, grunting.
“My king, when do you wish to move out?”
“Soon, Bors,” Vasilli answered. “Have the men pack up the camp.”
Bors gave his king a curt nod, then left. Once again, Vasilli found himself alone with the sleeping female. Fully morning, now, the sun’s bright rays crept in through the opening at the front of his tent, settling on her face.
Again, she moved, her lashes fluttering as she rolled onto her back. Her soft body pressed against Vasilli’s thigh on the pallet and she jerked, coming awake with a start. When her eyes opened, they were a clear and a brilliant blue, darker than Vasilli’s own. They mimicked the color of jewels or a deep mountain lake, he thought, and for the second time in the space of a day, he was enchanted.
She groaned as she tried to sit up, but Vasilli placed his hand on her middle, staying her.
“Slowly. Don’t try to sit up too quickly. You’ve been through an ordeal.”
She blinked dreamily, still caught between dreaming and waking. The sight made Vasilli’s mind drift into dangerous territory. He envisioned climbing under that pile of furs with her and sharing her warmth. Luckily, her stomach rumbled under his hand, breaking the trance before he did something foolish.
*Author’s Note: Oh, Vasilli. He’s already smitten!
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