Rose looked out the upper room window. A blizzard began. Snow, like a white shroud, covered the entire visible space.
Fate is insidious and whimsical. Until recently, life was easy and calm. And now the existence of the Rose has been clouded by three mysteries. A flying serpent, a powerful golden dragon and a mysterious youth with an angelic face. She didn’t even want to remember the incident in the courtroom. The words “Curse of the Swan” sounded like a terrible hum in her head. Rose shivered chilly. She breathed at the window and with a trembling finger drew the outline of a swan feather on the misted glass. This symbol reminded of how difficult it is to be a defenseless bird in a flock of hunters – sorcerers.
Loud, booming voices sounded below. Apparently, new guests have come to the tavern. Rose came out of the room and began to descend the side stairs, trying to keep in the shadows all the time. Precaution today was not superfluous.
Some of the newcomers had already started to play a marching song, others were quarreling with the hostess, others drank in silence. Rose leaned over the railing and saw a dozen soldiers camped behind an oak table in the corner. All were armed to the teeth.
The eldest, apparently the head of the detachment, struck the table with a gauntlet and demanded to bring a barrel of the strongest wine. The hostess immediately hurried to the cellar, and Rose went down a few steps. Maybe she can slip out the door unnoticed. Rose did not want to get involved with drunken warriors. Two of them were already pestering the young maid.
Suddenly one of the soldiers looked up from the beer mug and noticed Rosa. His eyes narrowed angrily as his hand reached out to the hilt of the sword. Only now the girl examined the coat of arms of the enemy kingdom on his cuirass.
“Look! It’s a princess!” He shouted. “She must be captured alive!”
His comrades-in-arms immediately understood what was the matter and also grabbed their swords. Now every second mattered. Rose almost knocked down the hostess who arrived in time and jumped out the door. This time, the princess was lucky. The enemies left their horses unattended. Rose untied the first horse she came across and jumped into the saddle. She was an excellent rider and could get away from any pursuit.
In peacetime, stealing a horse was punishable by death, but during the war, everything was allowed.
“Catch the princess!” shouted all the same soldier, but when his comrades climbed on their horses, Rose was already rushing through the forest at a fast gallop.
The blizzard intensified. Snow and wind lashed her face. Rose fell to the bow. Her hair flew like a black banner behind her. How quickly the enemies identified her. The compassionate neighbors must have appointed a reward for the capture of the enemy princess.
Behind her there was the sound of hooves, voices and threats in unison. Rose spurred her horse to break away from the chase. Because of the raging blizzard, it became difficult to drive, but Rosa did not stop until a fork in three roads appeared ahead.
Something strange was happening beyond the line lined with small stones. On the two roads going left and right, a blizzard was spinning, and on the middle road everything was calm. Spruces and pines stood at its edges, like fabulous giants guarding temporary peace. Even the snow did not dare to cross the invisible border.
Rose didn’t have time to think. She turned onto the calm middle road. Traveling along it will be much easier than fighting a storm. But instead of obeying, the previously pliable horse whinnied in fright and reared up, almost throwing the rider off his back.
However, Rose held the reins and forced the animal to move forward. The snowfall is left behind. Finding himself on the forbidden path for a blizzard, the horse rushed forward. She rushed without stopping, without any prodding. However, the pursuers did not lag behind either.
Above the treetops lay a clear azure sky. Snow glittered here and there. There were no wolves or other predators to be seen around, and nevertheless the horse began to snore in fright and began to resist.
Rose plunged her spurs into the horse’s flanks and made it gallop across the frozen lake. Sparks fell from under the hooves, but the ice did not crack. The brave rider looked back. She was able to buy time. The enemies are a little behind. She jumped off the horse, secured her bag better to the saddle, and checked to see if there were any weapons in the saddle bag.
Maybe under the weight of a whole detachment, the ice on the lake will break. No bellicose cries were heard yet. Only someone’s rapid breathing broke the silence of the forest. A ringing, almost musical whistle resounded over the treetops.
Rose stumbled and fell, black hair covered the snow with silk. The ring on her hand shone dazzlingly, and a terrible, huge figure hovered in the sky among the winter azure, as if it were all molded from gold. It sparkled dazzlingly, although the sun was not in the sky. The golden dragon, its wings, claws, head were all golden, but the eyes resembled a terrible secret, as in fairy tales about the castle of elves. Rose shuddered inwardly, he found her again, like death the color of precious metal. A terrible scream broke the frosty silence, and everything was quiet. The deadly pursuit from the warring world of the two kingdoms also fell behind.
And suddenly a silvery, rich sleigh stopped next to her, strangely, she did not even hear how they drove up, although the snow crunched. The aura of nightmare emanated from the sleigh, although they were anywhere, the royal ones would not be compared with them. Thoroughbred white horses in a harness beat impatiently with their hooves. Their luxurious manes and tails were shiny, their eyes sparkled wildly, and flames seemed about to burst from their nostrils. The bridles jingled, and the ringing of bells echoed them. Rose froze in horror and saw that the same young man was sitting in the sleigh. His golden curls scattered over a velvet cloak, his face was striking in beauty.
“Let’s go, Rose,” he invited, they won’t catch up with you.
He bent down and held out his hand to her. The skin on the back of the hand was a phosphoric whiteness, but there was a striking defect – a thin gold plate implanted into the arm where the vein should be.
Rose was numb with surprise, but the radiant, hypnotic gaze made her obey. She climbed into the sleigh and settled down on the satin seat. The driver whipped the horses. They snored viciously and trotted forward.
The young man signaled to Rose’s steed. He, as if spellbound, bowed his head, as if he were a man and obediently trotted after the sleigh.
There was a crackling of ice and muffled curses from behind. Rose looked around. There, among the sharp ice floes in the water, her pursuers splashed. They managed to reach the middle of the lake before the thick crust cracked. They could not get out of the lake. Uselessly they clung to the ice floes, their hands sliding along the smooth surface, and heavy armor pulled to the bottom.
The sled rushed forward, leaving deep furrows behind and billowing waves of snow splashing in its path. The chime of small bells accompanied them all the way.
Rose turned to her savior.
“What’s your name?” Plucking up courage, she asked.
He looked at her with a strange gleam in his eyes, as if deciding whether to tell her his name or not.
“Edwin,” he finally answered. Maybe it was his soft, calm voice that had such an effect on her that the name seemed familiar to the princess.
The further they went into the forest, the more beautiful the dense thickets on the sides of the road became. Rose looked at the snow-capped fir trees, at the squirrels jumping from branch to branch. She did not succeed in seeing the driver, occasionally waving his whip. All that was visible was his coat, sewn from fox tails.
“Why did you save me?” Rose asked after a long silence.
Edwin carefully draped a fur-lined cloak over her shoulders.
“Why?” He echoed. “How could I leave you in trouble?”
“How