Page 43 of Purring for Her Lion
We start at my clinic, where I have a few morning appointments scheduled. Mrs. Henderson arrives first with her chimera, which takes one look at Nugget and puffs up its mane in a territorial display. Nugget, surprisingly, ducks his head respectfully, maintaining perfect manners.
“Well, I never,” Mrs. Henderson says, adjusting her spectacles. “Is this the dragon everyone’s been talking about? The one Liana Reyes hatched?”
“This is Nugget,” I confirm, surprised she knows about him. Though I shouldn’t be—Harmony Glen’s gossip network operates with supernatural efficiency.
“Handsome fellow,” she says, actually reaching out to pat Nugget’s head. He preens under the attention. “You tell Liana I’ve got some special treats for him next time she comes by the shop. Dragon-safe ingredients, of course.”
I didn’t even know Mrs. Henderson had a shop. How much else about this town have I missed by keeping to myself?
After finishing appointments, Nugget and I head into the center of town. He drapes himself across my shoulders, curling around me like a living shawl. Occasionally, he presses his nose to the dish towel draped around my neck for reassurance.
The morning is clear and crisp, the kind of spring day that makes even me appreciate being outdoors.
“Morning, Dr. Khoran!” calls the postal worker as we pass, waving cheerfully. “That must be Nugget! He’s growing fast!”
I nod in acknowledgment, slightly taken aback. How does everyone already know Nugget’s name?
We continue down Main Street, and to my surprise, nearly everyone we pass greets me by name. The owner of the bookstore asks about a special order I’d apparently placed months ago and forgotten about. The barber inquires after a patient of mine—his cousin’s griffin. The florist reminds me that the spring bulbs I ordered are coming in next week.
“The town square is the center of everything,” I tell Nugget, who is taking in the sights with wide-eyed fascination. “The fountain was built by the town’s founders. Water comes from an underground spring with minor magical properties. Nothing dangerous, just good for clarity of thought.”
I’m narrating out loud like a tour guide, something I would normally find ridiculous, but Nugget seems genuinely interested, tilting his head to follow my gestures.
We stop at the bakery that’s been here since before I arrived in Harmony Glen. The bell jingles as we enter, and the owner—an orc named Dorvak—raises his hand in greeting. “Dr. Khoran. This must be the famous Nugget.”
Nugget trilled in response, as if he knows how popular he is.
“It seems to be. Two cheese danishes,” I say, not bothering to question how even he knows about Nugget. “And whatever your special is today.”
He packages up the pastry and adds something that smells like cinnamon and apples. “On the house,” he insists when I try to pay. “Consider it a welcome gift for the little one.”
Little. Right. He’ll be the size of a horse by the end of summer.
Outside, I break off pieces of the cheese roll for Nugget, who sniffs each one critically before eating.
“It’s not as good as Liana’s baking,” I tell him seriously, “but it would be polite to eat it.”
He seems to understand, carefully consuming each piece I offer him. Then I catch myself—I’m having a one-sided conversation with a dragon about bakery etiquette. In public. If Liana could see me now, she’d never let me hear the end of it.
We continue our tour, stopping at Laney’s Tea Emporium next door. The shop smells of herbs and spices, the walls lined with jars of loose-leaf teas in every imaginable variety.
“Dr. Khoran!” Laney exclaims, her hair shimmering under the shop lights. “And this handsome fellow must be Liana’s dragon.”
“Nugget,” I say, wondering if there’s anyone in town who doesn’t already know about him.
“I’ve been expecting you,” she says, which is unsettling because I hadn’t planned this visit myself until an hour ago. She brings out a small tin of tea. “For Liana. Something to help her sleep when she needs it. Dragon mothers need their rest.”
I accept the tin without argument, adding it to the growing collection of items I’m apparently gathering for Liana. Nugget sniffs the air appreciatively, clearly enjoying the herbal scents.
Outside again, a shadow passes overhead, and I point upward. “That’s Feydin,” I tell Nugget. “Town gargoyle. Keeps an eye on things from above. If you ever get big enough to fly, try not to set him on fire. Friend, not food, okay?”
Nugget follows my gaze and makes a chirping sound that I choose to interpret as agreement. He tears off another pastry piece, content with his tour so far.
We make our way to the fountain at the center of the square. Several children are tossing coins into the water, making wishes. They spot Nugget and rush over, wide-eyed with excitement.
“Is that a real dragon?”
“Can I touch him?”
