“I know they aren’t the same as horses, by the way. What,” Vic said, squinting up at her, “are you doing out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, interrogating a radiator or something?”
“Security heard the reindeer trailer pulling in,” Erin said. “I came to make sure nothing… unexpected happened.”
She gestured toward Vesa, who was now snorting indignantly while Jarmo murmured to him and patted his neck.
“Define unexpected,” Vic said. “Because frankly, this is just about on brand.”
Erin’s mouth twitched. “You okay?” she asked, the question lower, more serious.
Vic did a quick body scan. Cold. Wet. Bruised ego. No sharp pains, no alarming cracks. Her arm would probably have a spectacular bruise from where she’d hit the ground, but she’d had worse falling off horses over the years.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ve bounced off harder things than Scottish snow. You, on the other hand, nearly dislocated something throwing yourself at me like that.”
“That’s my job,” Erin said.
“Body-slamming me?” Vic asked. “We need to revisit your job description.”
“Protecting royal assets,” Erin said. “And you, unfortunately, qualify.”
Vic’s chest did a stupid little warm flip completely unrelated to the fan heater debacle.
“Yeah, well,” she said, trying to cover it with flippancy. “Protect me less dramatically next time. Or at least give me a helmet.”
Snow crunched behind them.
“What on earth is going on?”
Alex’s voice. Equal parts concern and deeply entertained fascination.
Erin pushed herself halfway upright, one hand still braced on Vic’s shoulder. They must have made quite a picture: Vic sprawled in the snow, hair full of flakes, Erin poised over her like some sort of protective… something. Panther. Lion. Overworked human disaster.
Alexandra stood a few metres away, cloak wrapped tightly around her, crown of golden hair dusted white. The triplets were clustered around her legs, all in various states of hat-askew, eyes enormous. Hyzenthlay hung back a pace, taking everything in with that unnervingly calm gaze.
“Auntie Erin tackled Auntie Vic,” Frank announced gleefully. “It was like rugby but with more snow.”
“You were not supposed to see that,” Erin muttered.
“I see everything,” Frank said proudly.
Alex’s eyes swept over Vic, then Erin, then the reindeer. One of the beasts snorted and shook its head as if in indignation at the whole affair.
“I turn my back for half an hour,” Alex said, “and you start staging stunts?”
“Not stunts,” Vic said quickly, scrambling to sit up properly. “Just… active reindeer management.”
“Active reindeer avoidance,” Erin corrected. “Which you were not practising.”
“You screamed ‘NO NO NO’ and sprinted at it,” Hyzenthlay observed. “That’s not avoidance.”
“I didn’t scream,” Vic said. “I… exclaimed.”
Matilda bounced on the spot. “Can you do it again?” she asked. “The thing where you flew through the air? Mummy Erin was like whoosh and you were like argh?—”
“That’s a very accurate summary,” Alex said, laughter dancing in her eyes.
“Oh good,” Vic said. “Because near-death experiences are only worthwhile if your humiliation is thoroughly documented.”
Alex stepped closer, her gaze lingering on Erin. There was affection there, and something else—something Vic had been seeing more and more over the last few days. An ache, almost. A wanting that went beyond “please don’t throw yourself in front of moving animals.”
