Page 444

"It suits you," Zuleika said.

"No, I…"

Boris stepped forward. "It does. That is indeed the queen's crown, which was only worn a few times a year, at the most important events. Bela promised you a crown, and I think you should tell him you want that one."

Rossa shuddered and set the crown aside. "King Bela is an old man. He might be a wise and just king, but I could never marry him."

Boris's heart sank. "And I am so much older than him. If I were to ask…would you refuse me, too?" He had to know.

"I…"

Boris closed his eyes. He wanted to become the bear again, a creature who did not mourn or cry, but who might run forever.

Rossa swallowed. "I'm not ready to marry yet. I've seen so little of the world, and I want to see so much more. If my father would only allow me…"

"You are an adult, are you not? Mistress of your own fate? Your father cannot control you forever. Your fate is your own, and he has no choice in the matter."

Zuleika dropped a silent curtsy, cast a spell that unleashed a blinding light, and when Boris managed to blink the bright blindness from his eyes, she had gone.

Rossa managed a smile. "Even my fairy godmother is afraid of my father. No one dares risk his ire, for his reputation precedes him."

Boris took her hands. "I'm not afraid of him. If you wish to travel the world, come with me. King Bela has named me Captain of the Varangian Guard, just as my father did, for the Emperor has dismissed them and sent them home. We will defend the borders, and protect our own people, going wherever we are needed. I've seen you fight. We would be honoured to have you with us, as you earn a name for yourself, separate from your father's."

"Truly?"

"Truly."

Rossa threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. What started as a chaste peck did not stay so for long. Boris drank deeply, as though her breath were wine, wishing he could never let her go. Like that night in the cave, when he'd first regained his manly form, thanks to her.

Her thoughts seemed to mirror his own. "Take me to bed, Snow."

"Are you sure, my Rose? I haven't asked you to marry me yet, let alone said the vows."

She met his gaze, unflinching. "One day, when the time is right, you will ask. And on that day, I will say yes."

"And one day, you will sit on that throne beside me, with the queen's crown on your head."

"Yes."

"Can I persuade you to wear it to bed? Just the crown and nothing else?"

Rossa laughed. "Perhaps."

He set the crown upon her head, then swept her up in his arms. "My bedchamber, or yours?"

"Whichever one has the bigger bed."

Down the in the great hall, the festivities went on, while Rossa and Boris barred the door of his bedchamber. Court clothes slid to the floor, no longer necessary for two people who only wanted each other. Maiden she might be, but Rossa was as ready for Boris as he was for her, and she did not hesitate. A blissful gasp was the only sound she made as their bodies became one, and Boris swore nothing and no one would ever part them again.