Page 31 of The Elven Healer's Apprentice

I would’ve stepped away as well, but he stopped me with a gentle touch to my cheek, drawing my face up for his inspection. His changeable eyes flared silver before transitioning to a deep azure as they traced my features. “You are certain?”

I nodded. “Not even a scratch. The guard must’ve been confused.”

The younger hobgoblin snorted from beside Merlon. “More like obsessed, all the sadder. We counted on him to defend the borders, but we clearly can’t any longer. Can’t have him alienating allies. Many apologies, Master Healer.”

Dropping his fingers from my face, Merlon stepped back, turning to face our defender. “No harm done, Hubert. My companion was not hurt.”

The hobgoblin leaned on his staff, another forked stick similar to the first hobgoblin’s. “I am delighted to hear it, master. Ruffion will no longer be walking our bounds without oversight.” His bright gaze flicked between Merlon and me with overt amusement. “Please accept my offer of hospitality as restitution for your inconvenience.”

Merlon burst into laughter. “No need to be so formal, Hubert. I knew you when you were in diapers.”

Hubert rolled his eyes. “Fine. Are you staying with us or not? Poppy is making roast mutton, garlic rabbit stew, and ginger squash pie for dinner.”

“You know I can’t resist your wife’s ginger squash pie.” Merlon picked up the satchel from where I had dropped it when he grabbed me. As he rose, he slung it over his shoulder and then claimed my hand.

When I opened my mouth to protest, Merlon squeezed my fingers and shot me a look that told me I best play along. Closing my mouth, I followed docilely for the moment.

“How is the wife? Is Poppy still deluded by your charms?” Merlon asked as we fell into step behind the hobgoblin.

Hubert chuckled. “Still hoping that she treasures a flame for you?”

“I have no hope of that.” Merlon smirked. “She only has eyes for you.”

“How long have you known each other?” I asked. Both of them glanced at me as though they had forgotten I was there, despite Merlon’s unbreakable grip on my hand.

“Oh, I met Merlon many decades ago. Back when he was scrawny and pathetic.” Hubert winked at me. “He wasn’t the towering giant of an elf he is now.”

“I have barely grown at all since then, twerp.”

“How dare you call into question the perceptions of a hobling fresh from his mother’s leading strings.” The hobgoblin’s faked offense made me smile.

Merlon snorted.

Hubert flashed me a friendly grin. “Hang around long enough, my lady, and I will paint a strange picture of the elf before us, different than any other will depict.”

“I am not—” I protested.

Merlon’s fingers tightened around mine warned me to not speak. “Ah, introductions are in order. Lady Adela, this is my good friend, Hubert Hob-Killorian, son of Thomasina Hob-Loorin by Hublorn Hob-Killorian.”

Catching my confused expression, Hubert laughed. “Just tell it to her straight. I am Sina’s son.”

“Ah!” I had no experience with hobgoblin culture besides what Sina had disclosed, which was little.

Jutting his chin toward our joined hands, Hubert frowned. “I take it you aren’t wedded. She appears too uncomfortable for that to be a common gesture between you.”

“We are not. However, the façade of being affianced would be wise.” Merlon grimaced. “Might we still be able to staywithout bringing scandal on your house? I haven’t explained hobgoblin culture to her.”

“I will speak to Poppy. I am certain I can convince her to look the other way for a night.”

Merlon nodded. “Either way, I will sleep in the barn.”

Hubert accepted this without comment. Instead, he grinned up at me. “So, who are you really? And what are you doing with this knucklehead?”

I smiled at the idea of anyone calling Merlon such a name, let alone a hobgoblin half his size. “My name is Adela. I am a healer. Not as skilled as Master Merlon, but I prove myself useful occasionally.”

“All the time.” Merlon cleared his throat. “I don’t know how my compound would run without her.”

“And how is my mother?” Hubert asked.

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