The Hunt for Snow by S. E. Babin Page B

nine times out of ten Giles would cluck his tongue and tell her I’d been playing in the barn again and fell or I was chasing chickens through the courtyard. Of course, I was always doing that, too, but I never managed to come home quite as dirty or disheveled as I did when I’d been beating up one of the villagers. If Mother didn’t believe him, she never let on. Instead, she’d give me one long, stern look, or if she was in a good mood, she’d wink and tell me to get cleaned up for spinning time. I always hated learning those princess lame crafts, but I always enjoyed spending the time with my mother.
    My lower lip trembled, and Giles held out his arms. “Come here, sweetkin.”
    I allowed myself to be wrapped in Giles’ strong arms, and inhaled his comfortable gingerbread scent. “He really did start it,” I mumbled against the soft cotton of his vest. He patted my back and chuckled.
    “They always do, don’t they, Snow?” He squeezed me for good measure and set me away from him. Giles stared at me with a critical eye, taking in my worn jeans, soft blouse and pageboy haircut. He nodded once. “You’re just as beautiful as always. Although, you could do with some more hair, couldn’t you?”
    I frowned at him and awkwardly patted my hair. “Hair is a weapon,” I said. “If it’s short, no one can grab hold of it and use it as a weapon.”
    He gestured at me to walk with him. “Be that as it may, it also prevents you from finding a proper husband.”
    My thoughts flicked back to Max. He was no proper husband, but he sure would be a fun distraction until someone proper came around. Giles cleared his throat, and I blushed at my train of thought.
    “Did you hear me?” he asked, giving me a quizzical stare.
    “Uh, no. What was that?” I gave him a bright smile and slapped an innocent expression on my face. “Sorry, preoccupied brain, and then that whole thing in the elevator wore me out a bit.”
    He didn’t believe me. I could tell. “I asked if you brought a ball gown.”
    I nodded. “Cinderella picked it out.”
    His face brightened. “Ah, Cyndi. How does she fare?” He took my elbow and steered me down the hall.
    “She fares well. She’s downstairs right now. I can bring her up later, if you wish. Belle is here, too.”
    “Delightful!” He fumbled for his key, slid it into the lock and opened the door into a large suite.
    “Damn, Giles. Moving on up, aren’t you?” I stepped in ahead of him and cased the room. Even though it was Giles, I still wasn’t feeling all that trusting today. Whoever put him up here must have spent a fortune. My footsteps stilled and I spun toward him. “Who are you working for these days?” I asked, hoping against all hope I was wrong.
    The smell of lilacs greeted me, along with the voice I heard often in my nightmares. “Giles serves me now, darling Snow White. Aren’t you a sight to behold?”
    My mouth dried out and terror seeped through my body. I schooled my features into a perfectly blank expression. Naomi stood, regal and proud, in the living room of the suite. Gone was her normal red ball gown evil queen attire. Today she’d settled for a red power suit and stiletto nude heels. I hated the fact that she was a redhead and could actually wear red. It was against the laws of nature…or at least the laws of the color wheel. Her hair streamed down her shoulders in long vibrant curls. She looked gorgeous.
    And every bit as evil as I remembered. I glanced at Giles, who shifted uncomfortably. At my accusing stare, he met my gaze with no apology, just regret. I couldn’t be mad at him. Where else was he to go? My mother died, then my father, and, I, the only rightful heir was chased out of the realm. Giles had no choice but to stay. It was and was not my fault. But I couldn’t blame him. Life went on, with or without me.
    Knowing Giles, though, working for her rankled him right down to the edges of the starchy white shirt he wore underneath that