"Show me something," she said as she stared at her feet.
"What do you want to see?" he asked, dipping his head to look into her eyes.
She glanced around. "The snow. Turn it the colour of -," she hesitated, "turn it blue."
He laughed and slipped his hands into hers. "Look at me." His hair was as black as the clear sky overhead, his skin as pale as the snow around them. He closed his eyes and she watched his lips move in silent incantation. His grip on her hands tightened as she tried to pull away.
This was a terrible idea. How could she have asked him to perform magic, she loathed magic, it terrified her and she hated her helplessness.
"Stop," she whispered. His mouth stilled. Slowly, he opened his eyes. "Your eyes." Her heart pounded against her chest. "Take it back." She pulled her hands from his and stumbled backwards in the snow. "Take it back." His eyes were colourless, black pupils surrounded by irises clear as ice. She couldn't look away.
He cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. "You're afraid." He seemed surprised.
"You took the colour from your eyes." Her hands shook and her voice trembled as she spoke. He could kill me with a snap of his fingers, she thought. "I have to go." She turned and grabbed her cloak, crossing her arms to keep the cold out.
"Wait," he called after her. She stopped. The door to the main hall was only a few feet away. If she ran, she might make it before he reached her. "Look up." She jumped. His voice was so close she could feel his breath on her ear. He pressed a hand to her shoulder. "Just look up."
She closed her eyes and swallowed. There's no escaping now. Lifting her head, she felt something soft and cold land on her cheek. Snow. She blinked open her eyes and another flake landed on her chin. The sky overhead had turned an opalescent white, the stars and the black night disappearing behind a thick cover of cloud. As the snow drifted closer and closer to the ground, it transformed into an iridescent blue. Her eyes widened. "You-" She shook her head and turned, his hand falling away from her shoulder. The colour in his eyes returned. The same as the snow.
His cheeks reddened. "I didn't mean to frighten you," he said, his tone apologetic. She looked away, relieved he'd returned to his usual self. She held out a cupped hand and watched the blue snow land in her palm, where it instantly became white.
"How-?"
"It's not difficult." He smiled and looked away, toeing the snow with his boot. "I'm sure Arthur could get us out of this, if that's what you want." His voice trembled.
Is it? He's kind...gentle. You've never seen him use his magic for evil. "No."
"No?" He looked up expectantly.
She shook her head. "No." She swallowed hard, trying desperately to ignore the fact that she wanted to feel his hands on her skin. "If it's the King's pleasure..." her voice trailed off.
"If it's yours," he said, stepping closer. "And mine." His fingers closed 'round hers.
"Yes," she breathed, staring at her feet.
He pressed his palm against her cheek, lifting her chin with his thumb. "Yes," he repeated, pressing his lips to hers. The wine, the heat of his fingers against her skin, the cold of the snow in her hair...her mind raced past all her excuses as she opened her mouth to his. Silly girl, she chided silently, stop being ridiculous. A frantic warmth tingled through her, from tongue to toes.
Enough now. She wasn't sure whether it was her voice or his, reprimanding her hesitancy.