Page 65 of Her Orc Protector

She nodded firmly. "Already brought mine."

Sure enough, when I checked the room later, I found a large, shallow basket lined with what appeared to be an entire sheep's worth of wool positioned near Ellie's cradle. It looked absurdly comfortable.

By midday, we'd brought in the last of our belongings and begun the process of turning the cottage into a home. Uldrek assembled the bedframes while I swept and arranged the living room, Ellie amusing herself with a wooden spoon on the blanket I'd spread for her.

Another knock at the door announced Dora's arrival. She bustled in carrying a basket covered with a checkered cloth, her cheeks flushed with exertion.

"You’ve been working too hard," she declared, setting her basket on the newly assembled table. "I brought sustenance. Real food, not whatever Gruha calls lunch."

She unveiled her offering with a flourish—jars of preserved fruits, smoked fish wrapped in paper, a small loaf of bread still warm from the oven.

"You didn't need to—" I began.

"Course I didn't need to," she interrupted cheerfully. "That's what makes it nice, isn't it?" She bent to tickle Ellie's chin. "Look at you, little miss, all set up in your new place. You going to let me hold you, or are you still pretending to be shy?"

Ellie regarded her solemnly for a moment, then broke into a gummy smile and raised her arms. Dora scooped her up with practiced ease.

"She gets heavier every day," she remarked. "Growing like a weed, this one."

We were still unpacking Dora's basket when Fira arrived, a scowl on her face and a potted plant with trailing vines in her arms.

"To strangle the drafts," she explained gruffly, setting it on the windowsill. "Old cottage like this, bound to be drafty."

I glanced at the trailing vines as she passed me—spindly but stubborn, like her.

Gruha was the last to arrive, appearing at our door as the afternoon light began to wane. She carried a cast iron cooking pot, a bundle of dried soup herbs tied with twine, and something small wrapped in tissue paper.

"Soup pot," she said, placing it on the hearth with a solid thunk. "Herbs to go with it." The bundle followed. She hesitated, then thrust the tissue-wrapped package toward me. "Someone at the house had no need for this. Thought it might fit your girl."

Inside was a tiny woolen vest, finely knitted in soft gray yarn with delicate stitching around the edges. It was clearly new, despite Gruha's implication otherwise.

"It's beautiful," I said, examining the careful work.

Gruha shrugged, embarrassed by the praise. "Like I said, no need for it at Tinderpost."

The women didn't stay long, which I appreciated even as I enjoyed their company. They seemed to understand that this first day was something private, a moment for our small family to breathe in the newness of our own space.

As the door closed behind the last of them, I turned to find Uldrek watching me with a curious expression.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head slightly. "Nothing. Just… didn't expect all that."

I understood what he meant. Neither of us was accustomed to such casual generosity, such undemanding warmth. It felt foreign but not unwelcome.

We ate bread and smoked fish at the table while Ellie alternated between accepting spoonfuls of mashed roots and trying to grab everything within reach. The conversation flowedeasily between us, punctuated by Ellie's babbling and the occasional clink of Uldrek's mug against the table.

Only once did the subject of Gavriel arise, when Uldrek asked quietly, "How long do you think it will be? Before the summons reaches him?"

I considered the question. "The clerk said two days. Less, if he hasn’t masked his whereabouts.” I paused. “They use binding seals—anchored through the civic registry. Wherever he is, it’ll find him.”

"And then?"

“He’ll have seven days to respond. After that, the Council can issue a binding warrant.” I took a sip of tea, letting the warmth settle my chest. “He won’t ignore it. He’s too proud.”

He reached across the table and took my hand, his touch warm and solid. "You have the documents from the vault. That's real proof, Issy."

"I know," I said, though a part of me still doubted. Still feared that Gavriel's voice, his presence, his charm would somehow unravel everything I'd built. "I know."

---