Page 11 of Wed to Krampus
“You... can’t. It’s... tradition...”
She frowned. “And how long do I have to keep it on? What does this... tradition of yours say?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn’t know what to say to her. I let go of her wrist when I realized she was squirming. I didn’t want to hurt her, and I felt bad when I saw her wince and rub her wrist. I quickly calculated in my head how long it might take her to come to know me. Know the real me, my soul, my heart. I tried to calculate how long it would take me to make her fall in love with who I was underneath my terrifying appearance.
It couldn’t be too long. A week? Was a week an acceptable length of time to ask someone to keep their eyes covered around you? She wouldn’t be able to do anything by herself. I could let her take off the mask when she was in the bathroom and when she was alone. Would she go for it?
“A week,” I said, for lack of a better idea. One day would’ve made sense probably, even for an invented tradition that made no sense. Three days would’ve worked too. From the books I’d read, I knew humans considered three a magical number. Seven worked too. Also a magical number. “Only for a week.”
“A week?!” Her voice was high-pitched now, and it clearly indicated she was not happy. “But that’s so long! Too long! How will I be able to do... anything?”
“You can take the mask off when you’re alone,” I blurted. I was already regretting all my stupid ideas about stupid traditions. “I will be away from time to time to feed Snowdrop and work around the cabin.”
“Who’s Snowdrop?”
“My horse.”
She thought for a moment. “And how will I be able to meet the others? Like... properly meet them?”
“The others?”
Frost stopped wagging his tail. He’d been looking at Aurelia curiously, waiting for the right time to jump on her and demand rubs, but now he turned to stare at me. I shot him a glance and shook my head.
“Yes. The others! Your family. Your community.”
I swallowed heavily. “There are no others.”
“What do you mean?”
I could actually see how the color drained from her face. Her cheeks, rosy from the cold, turned pale.
“There’s just... me. And Snowdrop, and Frost. And now you.”
Her jaw dropped. Her hands started shaking at her sides, and to stop them, she wrapped her arms around herself and tucked her hands underneath her armpits.
“There are rabbits,” I offered. “They come around here sometimes.” I stopped myself from adding that when they do, I usually hunt them and turn them into delicious stew. I had a hunch she wouldn’t appreciate that piece of information. “And deer,” I continued. “There’s also a crow who took a liking to Frost. They hang out sometimes, and the bird always brings Frost some shiny thing he stole from town.”
“So, it’s just us. Alone. In a cabin in the mountains.” Her voice was low and shaky.
“Yes, I...”
“You don’t have... anyone? Family... friends...”
The corners of my mouth turned downward. “You could say Snowdrop and Frost are my family. And that crow.”
“The crow...” Was the tremble in her voice a sign of fear or... anger?
“And you. You are my bride. My wife.”
I saw her hands fly to her face, and I was ready to stop her from removing the mask, but she wasn’t going for the mask. She simply pressed her hands to her already covered eyes, as if she was about to cry and wanted to stop the tears. It was... odd to watch. Now her eyes were double covered.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered.
My heart crumbled in my chest. It broke into a thousand pieces, and I went as far as to press my hand to my chest, trying to hold the pieces together.
“We’re a perfect match,” I said, carefully. “The test...”
“... is never wrong,” she finished my sentence. She straightened her back and ran her hands down her sides, then slightly pulled at the skirt of her dress. She was straightening everything, as if she were getting ready to do... something hard. “All right. Okay. I can try.”