Page 33 of The Scent of Snow
Isabel poked his ribs. “Henrique, leave them be. But if Pedro must choose, then I would prefer to keep his fingers, but the tongue…”
Feeling heat color her cheeks, Anne ignored their banter and stepped into the snow. She had been six the last time she saw it, back in Repton, and the memories had faded. The snow reflected the sunlight, setting up a gentle brightness. The cork oaks, the olive trees, and even her hibernating begonia bush wore fluffy white caps. The family’s winter attire splashed color among all the white, their breaths creating small puffs of mist.
Beatriz waddled to her. “Anne, Leonor is gone. Dante searched her room, the house, everywhere. Her things vanished. He only found this.”
Beatriz gave her an aged golden ring. Anne traced the letters R and L intertwined inside. Could it be Leonor and Rafael? Had Leonor not said that the princess had been trapped as well? Perhaps when the bridge crumbled, it freed the princess too. Wherever they were, Anne hoped they had found peace.
“Anne, are you listening?”
Anne kissed Beatriz's cheek. “Merry Christmas, dear. I’m sure Leonor just went to visit friends. Go find that Italian husband of yours and exchange some holiday magic.”
Befuddled, Beatriz returned to the house just as Pedro reached Anne’s side.
A snowflake landed on Anne’s lips, and Pedro licked it before she could taste it. Glaring at him, she tasted the next. Pure and cold, it melted almost instantly. The snow absorbed and muffled other sounds, creating a sense of peaceful quietude, broken only by the family’s joyous noises.
The children went to the adults and grabbed their mother’s hand.
Laughing, Julia caught Griffin’s arm, tugging him along. “Come Englishman, Portuguese snow is better than island snow.”
“You go along,” Griffin said, freeing his arm. Still, a snowball landed on his face. Face flushed, he raced after the children, who peppered his coat with snow and stole his top hat.
Soon, it became the proud possession of an ugly snowman.
“No, Henrique, don’t you dare wet the royal coat.” Isabel lifted her hands.
Grinning, Henrique powdered her with snow. She opened her mouth, no doubt to upbraid him, and Henrique kissed her in front of everyone. When he broke the kiss, Isabel seemed quite dazzled.
“You will excuse us, but Isabel’s feet are swollen, and she must retire.”
Isabel gasped. “What, I’m not—”
He gave her a pointed look, and she nodded. “They are ballooning, actually.”
Henrique took a giggling Isabel in his arms and climbed the steps to the front door. “Excuse us.”
Pedro caught her by the arm. “You know what they are going to do, don’t you?”
“Nothing that we didn’t do ourselves. Repeatedly.”
“Ana,” Pedro said in that deep, intense voice.
“Later, husband. Now I’ve been dying to do this.”
Anne bent and gathered snow in her hands. Laughing, she dared to throw a snowball at her husband, who just watched her, bemused.
“What, too ruthless for a snow fight?”
Pedro took off after her, and with a cry, she turned from him, the snow slowing her steps. He had caught her in his arms when a booming voice startled them.
A man with a fur-lined coat observed them. “Why did you demolish the Misarela? I had to use that secret passage I shouldn’t know about.”
Pedro helped Anne to her feet, and then he strode to the newcomer and embraced him. “Brother.”
Anne recognized Pedro’s younger sibling then. Cris seemed leaner, and his usual clean-shaved face now sported a sooty beard. But the green eyes, so full of life, were the same.
“Little Sister. Has my brother been treating you well?” He kissed her cheek.
“And who is that?”
A woman was beside him. She wore a long black coat, but her fiery red hair could be seen underneath a white scarf. Her striking hazel eyes were outlined by kohl. She was petite, even more so next to Cris.
Anne might be wrong, but had Cris blushed? Could Pedro’s rascally brother have settled for a lady at last?
Cris caught her hand in his and cleared his throat. “This is —”
The woman stepped forward. “I’m his sex slave.”
The End
