Page 31 of Kilted Sins

Neither of them had thought of bringing a cloak or gloves or anything, really, that could protect them from the cold. Cillian was about to suggest they head back and give the task to someone else instead, but before he could, Thora was already walking away and he was forced to follow, his boots crunching against the frosty ground.

Sometime in the night, it had snowed enough for there to be a thick layer of snow wherever the servants had not swept the paths. Though the snowfall had stopped, thick clouds still hung above their heads, the sky almost a brilliant white.

“Ach, there’s quite a chill today!” said Thora as she rushed through the courtyard, surely as eager to return to the warmth of the castle as Cillian was. “Well, it’s a good thing we have so many firs an’ pines here.”

There was, indeed, both a large fir and a large pine in the gardens, and that was precisely where Thora headed as Cillian rushed after her, trying to catch up. Even with his long legs, he had to jog to do so, Thora’s enthusiasm propelling her forward in a hurry. When they reached the pine, she eagerly grabbed one of the branches and produced a small knife seemingly out of nowhere before she began to saw at the thin branch.

“Dae ye always carry that with ye?” he asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

For a moment, Thora turned to frown at him before she focused back on her task. “O’ course,” she said. “Dae ye nae have a blade?”

“I dae,” Cillian said. “I simply dinnae see why ye have one.”

“Well, why dae ye?”

“In case I dinnae have me sword,” he said. “Or if there is an emergency.”

“That’s why I have it, as well,” Thora said. “Are ye surprised because I am a lass?”

“Aye.”

Laughing, Thora shook her head again but said no more on the matter. Instead, she gestured at him impatiently to start cutting as well, and Cillian approached reluctantly, getting to work.

He had hardly managed to cut through the first branch when Thora shook the one she was holding violently, causing a heap of snow to fall right onto Cillian’s head. Some of it slid into his clothes and he cursed loudly as he jumped back, dropping his blade in favor of getting as much snow off him as possible.

All the while, Thora laughed as though his torment was the most amusing thing she had seen. She didn’t stop laughing, not even when Cillian pinned her with a murderous gaze, shivering from head to toe after the sudden attack.

There was only one way to make her stop laughing, he realized, and that was to grab a handful of snow and throw it right in her face. Thora shrieked as the powdery ball erupted all over her, surely most of it falling under the neckline of her dress until she, too, was shivering.

It was her turn to glare at him now but Cillian only smirked smugly and reached for another handful of snow. If there was one thing, he was good at, it was a fight, whether that fight involved blades or snowballs.

It didn’t take long for realization to settle in and Cillian watched as Thora saw what he was about to do. With another shriek, this one louder and shriller than the last one, she turned on her heel and ran, but that was not enough to deter Cillian. He simply held onto the snow tightly and rushed after her, breaking into a sprint, and when he threw it at Thora, it hit her square in the middle of her back.

“Cillian!” she shouted, her hands frantically trying to reach behind her so she could brush off the worst of it. “Stop! It’s cold!”

“Ye should have thought about that afore ye shook that branch!” Cillian countered as he reached for another scoop of snow. The momentum he had gathered, though, was too much and before he could come to a stop, he slid on the frosty ground, hands shooting out to grab onto something that could keep him upright.

Unfortunately, the thing he grabbed was Thora.

Cillian barely had time to react, grabbing her just before she hit the ground and pulling her closer, shielding her from a rough tumble to the ground with his own body. He took the worst of the impact, his back colliding with solid earth, and he cursed the moment he decided to step off the snow and onto the path. At least falling on the snow would have provided him with a soft cushion, something to break his fall.

For a few moments, they were both panting, trying to catch their breath. Then, Thora looked over her shoulder at him a small chuckle escaping her.

“Are ye alright?”

“Aye,” said Cillian. “Are ye?”

“Aye.”

They were alone in the gardens; alone and so close together that Cillian could feel every part of Thora’s body pressed up against his own. She felt warm in his arms, the contrast with the air that surrounded them so shocking that it only added to the sensation. Time seemed to stand still, then, as if it, too, was frozen.

Cillian couldn’t look away from Thora’s eyes, their startling blue color burning into his mind. He wanted nothing more than to lean in and claim her lips in a searing kiss. He was certain she would let him. He could see it in her eyes, in the way that her lips parted, in the fact that she hadn’t yet pulled away, that she also wanted this.

I cannae go back from such a thing. Everythin’ will change.

A moment’s hesitation was enough for Cillian to think better of it. Abruptly, he pulled himself away and stood, dusting the snow off his clothes awkwardly. When he offered his hand to Thora so he could help her up, he couldn’t even look at her, and when she didn’t react, he thought she wouldn’t accept his help. But then, her hand clasped around his and Cillian pulled her to her feet, putting some respectful distance between them.

“Let us head back inside,” he said. “Ye’ll catch yer death here.”