Page 10 of Wed to Krampus

That night, after my mother washed me and put me to bed, she told me I was grounded. First, I wasn’t allowed to have cake. She and my father were going to eat it all, and not leave me a crumb. Of course, that was a false threat, because the very next day, I had cake for breakfast. Second, I would get nothing for Christmas. No presents for me. Just coal. And if I complained about it, Krampus would come get me.

Krampus!

She told me he was upset already because I’d destroyed Dad’s cake, and he’d come knocking on our door earlier, but she sent him away, promising that I was going to be a good girl from then on. But if I wasn’t a good girl, she said she wouldn’t be able to save me from Krampus next time, and he would come get me.

“And do you know what he does to naughty children?” she said in an ominous voice. “He eats them!”

I shrieked and hid under the duvet. She laughed and tickled me, and that made me forget about all her silly threats. Because that was what they were. Silly.

I had all the cake I wanted, and I got a pretty doll with long blonde hair for Christmas. And Krampus never came to get me.

Until today.

Chapter Seven

Krampus

Frost was scratching at the door from the inside when we arrived. Normally, I would’ve let him outside, but I was afraid he might follow me and Snowdrop into town. He was big enough to break down the door if he wanted to, but he was a polite dog and knew his place. Most of the time.

“We’re here,” I said as I hopped out of the sleigh and started untucking my bride from under the blanket and her heavy winter coat. “I will help you.”

She chuckled. “I hope so. I can’t do a thing with this mask on.”

Her voice sounded odd. Like she was... reluctant. She was smiling at me, but I wasn’t sure if that was her genuine smile. I wondered what had happened. At the Temple, she’d seemed more comfortable – as comfortable as one could be in the given circumstances – but now, it was as if she was regretting her choice.

It could’ve just been my imagination. I was nervous because we were home at last, and I wanted her to like the place.

“I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” I said as I took her in my strong arms.

She clung to me at first, but then her body tensed, and she tucked her gloved hands in the large sleeves of her coat as I carried her to the door of the cabin. The snow crunched loudly under my boots. Frost started whining pathetically from inside.

“What is that?” she asked, her head whipping left and right. “What’s that sound? Is that a wild animal?”

I could feel her shaking, and my instinct was to press her closer to my chest. When her cheek met with my fur coat, she jerked away. It was a small gesture, but impossible to miss. She hadn’t behaved this way when I took her in my arms at the Temple, and now I was really starting to worry. What had happened on the way to the cabin? We hadn’t talked at all because of the wind and the snow. Was she upset because of that? Did she think that I’d intentionally ignored her?

“That’s Frost. He’s my dog.”

“Oh.”

“You have nothing to fear. He’s big, but he’s just a puppy at heart.”

“Okay.”

I opened the door and entered the cabin. Frost took a few steps back and barked excitedly. His tail was wagging so hard that it was in danger of detaching from his butt and flying across the living room.

“Can you put me down, please?” Aurelia asked.

I didn’t want to put her down. I didn’t want to let go of her. Her weight was insignificant in my arms, but the warmth of her body was everything. It was as if it gave me life. I felt like a whole different person – er... beast? monster? Krampus? – when I held her like this. It was as if my arms had been made specifically for the task of carrying her.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “Of course.”

“Thanks.”

I set her down on her feet, and the first thing she did was to remove her gloves. I wanted to stop her, but I knew it was silly. I helped her take off her coat, then I took mine off, and I was working on unlacing my boots when I saw her reach for the mask on her face.

“No!” My hand wrapped around her thin, frail wrist – so thin, it was like a baby twig in spring – before I realized what I was doing. “You can’t remove it.”

“Why not?”

---