Page 420 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 28

The hall was set up for a feast, with all the tables and benches set out in readiness for guests who were not yet here.

Rose seemed to be able to read his thoughts, for she said, "We are hosting a Christmas feast tomorrow. The whole village is invited, including the monks. It is Mother's gift to her people. It's empty now because everyone is in the kitchens. Well, except me, because…I can't cook." She tucked her hands into the folds of her voluminous skirts and stared at the floor, as if ashamed to admit she had shortcomings.

He wished he could tell her that it didn't matter whether a lady could cook, for it was her husband's job to provide servants for her, if that's what she wanted.

She took off her cloak, hanging it on a peg beside the massive fireplace. And then she turned around.

Boris couldn't take his eyes off her. All these weeks, he'd seen her in her hunting clothes, bundled up against the winter cold in shapeless tunics that hid everything, but the gown she wore today…made it hard to draw breath.

It was modest enough, leaving nothing but her face and hands bare as the skirt swept dangerously close to the floor, but the cloth clung to her as ardently as a lover. Caressing her breasts, curving around her hips, all the while highlighting her delicate blush under his scrutiny, her lips ruddy from being bitten…she was Rose the Red incarnate today, both as delicate and as brazen as a rose in full bloom.

If only he were a man and not a bear…

Rose cleared her throat. "I'll just head down to the kitchen for some food. You should…probably stay here, out of sight, so you don't scare anyone else. Maybe…warm yourself by the fire?"

At home, any fireplace this large would have hunting dogs lolling about in front of it. Yet here, he had the space to himself. One reason to prefer being a bear to a man was that he might stretch out before the hearth, without worrying about dignity, or whether he'd get soot on his clothes.

So he accepted Rose's invitation, and luxuriated in the warmth from a blaze much bigger than the tiny campfires he kept burning in his cave.

Until the imperious tap of footsteps that did not belong to Rose's hunter-trained feet entered the room. The woman who owned the footsteps, the feet and undoubtedly every stone in the floor beneath them made an irritable noise in her throat.

Boris raised his head to meet her gaze.

Ah, so this was the lady of the castle, Rose's mother. Though her hair was almost all white to Rose's dark curls, and wrinkles blurred the beauty that he didn't doubt had once rivalled Rose's own, the resemblance was too close to ignore.

Boris rose to his full height, before offering the lady his best courtly bow, as befit a guest accepting her generous hospitality.

If she chose to offer it. From the frown on her face, he wasn't sure whether she wanted to turn him out or summon guards to slaughter him.

"Rossa!" she called, her tone promising dire consequences if her daughter didn't appear immediately.

Rose…no, Rossa, he corrected himself…raced up the steps and bobbed a quick curtsy. "Yes, Mother?"

The woman stabbed a finger in Boris's direction. "The servants tell me you brought a bear into the house. Is that your bear?"

Rossa hunched her shoulders. "Um…yes? And no? He's…he's sort of his own bear. I brought him in here, but…"

"He bowed to me." She made it sound like a crime.

Rossa wrung her hands. "He's…well, he's not really a bear. All right, he is a bear, but…" She buried her face in her hands for moment, then met her mother's gaze again. She sighed. "Snow, this is my mother, Lady Sara of Mirroten, and we're in her home."

Boris bowed once more. Crime or not, it was the courteous thing to do.

"And Mother, this is…well, I don't know his real name, as bears can't really talk, but I call him Snow White, because his fur's white, and…he didn't like the other name I tried to call him."

What had that been? Oh, she'd called him Sir Pompous Arse when they'd first met. Boris much preferred Snow.

One sharp nod was all the acknowledgement he got from Lady Sara.

"Why is he here?"

Rossa stared at her feet. "He's…he came to see me, and I invited him to dinner, because we usually share dinner when I'm in the woods, and because I have to stay here, I wanted…"

Understanding softened Lady Sara's gaze, though Rossa didn't see it. "Is he dangerous?" Lady Sara asked.

Boris bowed his head. Yes, he was.

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