“The snow turned heavy overnight and hasn’t stopped,” Nettle said, shaking the snow from her cloak, Thaw doing the same, giving a good shake, before approaching the dais.

Thaw ran around to the back of the dais to hop up and place his front paws on Snow’s leg.

She rubbed him and kissed him and told him how much she loved him. Then asked him if he was hungry.

Thaw dropped to his butt and barked.

“I’ll see Thaw gets fed, m’lady,” Nettle said.

Hearing that, Thaw ran barking to Nettle and followed her to the kitchen.

“If I were a jealous man, I would think you loved that pup more than me,” Tarass said.

“But you’re not, you’re a wise man who knows that while my heart is overflowing with love for you, it still has room to love others.”

Tarass brought his face close to hers and nibbled on her ear before saying, “You measure your words well, wife.”

Gooseflesh ran over Snow and she scrunched her shoulders as his nibbles continued to tease her.

“I do not care!”

The shout tore Tarass and Snow apart.

“I leave now. This cannot wait. Abbot Bennett must be made aware of this,” Cleric Norman said with a raised voice as he entered the Great Hall alongside Rannock.

“What is the problem now, Cleric Norman?” Tarass asked when the man reached the dais.

“The pagan act that has taken place here will not be tolerated,” Cleric Norman threatened. “That a man having been drained of blood is unacceptable.”

“It was no pagan act and it is none of your concern,” Tarass warned harshly.

“It most certainly is,” Cleric Norman argued. “A concern that needs to be immediately addressed by the clergy. I do not want this poor woman,”—he nodded at Snow—“to suffer more than she already has at the hands of a barbarian. There is no telling what you may do to her.”

“I’ve already done quite a bit to her, Cleric Norman,” Tarass said and heard his wife chuckle.

“You’re damning her soul to hell and I will not let that happen,” the cleric said, jutting his chin out. “I leave now to let Abbot Bennett know what depraved things go on here.”

“It’s a bad snowstorm. He shouldn’t leave,” Rannock said.

“I will not be kept hostage another minute in this heathen place,” Cleric Norman said.

“You’re free to take your leave whenever you want,” Tarass said. “Though, I advise against it with the snowstorm.”

“I’d rather take on the perils of a snowstorm than stay among pagans,” Cleric Norman spat.

“Rannock, have his horse readied and supply him with food,” Tarass ordered.

“I want nothing from you,” Cleric Norman snapped. “I will reach the abbey in time for prayers and supper.”

“Not in this storm,” Rannock said.