Page 55 of Her Orc Protector

“You don’t have to know everything,” he said. “You just have to start.”

I nodded, the weight of that truth anchoring me back into myself.

In another room, a log shifted in the hearth, and upstairs, a soft creak marked Hobbie returning to the chair beside Ellie’s bed. I imagined her there—watchful, half asleep, small as a teacup and as fierce as a blade.

And I imagined tomorrow. Not a dream, not a trap. Just more of this. Warmth, steadiness. Maybe even windows with a view.

Chapter 16

"You sure about this?" Uldrek asked as we reached the edge of the market square. "We don't have to go today."

I adjusted my shawl against the crisp morning breeze. "I'm sure. Leilan promised she'd watch Ellie all morning if needed."

"And you trust her?" His tone wasn’t suspicious—just honest, the kind of question he asked because he cared, not because he doubted.

"Yes," I said, surprised to find I meant it. "Hobbie will be there too. And Gruha. Ellie will be fine for a few hours."

He nodded, seeming satisfied. "Good. That's good."

We walked in comfortable silence after that, leaving the bustle of the market behind. The sounds of haggling merchants and rattling carts gradually faded, replaced by the quieter rhythm of residential Everwood—children playing in small yards, laundry flapping on lines strung between buildings, the occasional greeting called from one neighbor to another.

"How much farther?" I asked as we turned down a narrower lane lined with low stone walls. Ivy climbed along them, lush and green, partially obscuring the weathered stone beneath.

"Not far," he said, glancing back. "Just past the baker's."

The city shifted around us as we walked deeper into the Riverside District. The buildings grew older here, their roofs uneven with age and weather. Many had small gardens beside them, bursting with late summer flowers and herbs. I caught the scent of lavender and rosemary on the breeze.

It felt strange walking these quiet streets without Ellie. Her weight was an absence against my hip, and I found my hand occasionally rising to adjust a sling that wasn't there. I'd left her at Tinderpost House only a handful of times before—always with Leilan, Gruha, or Hobbie, always nearby, always with a twisting knot of worry in my stomach.

Today, the knot was smaller. Not gone, but manageable.

"Do you miss her?" Uldrek asked suddenly, as if reading my thoughts.

I smiled despite myself. "Is it that obvious?"

"You keep checking your side like something's missing." He shrugged. "Not hard to figure out what."

"I'm not used to it," I admitted. "Being away from her. It's still hard."

"But you're doing it."

There was something like approval in his voice that made me straighten slightly. "Yes," I said. "I am."

We turned a final corner, and the lane opened up to reveal a row of small cottages set back from the stone path. Their facades were varied—some with fresh paint, others weathered to a gentle patina—but all had the same solid, enduring quality of buildings that had stood for generations.

Uldrek slowed, then stopped in front of one with faded blue shutters and a slightly crooked porch. The stone path leadingto it was cracked in places but edged with overgrown herbs—I recognized thyme and rosemary, their scent rising as our footsteps disturbed them. A small, dented windchime hung by the front window, barely clinking in the gentle breeze.

Uldrek cleared his throat. "Here," he said.

I took in the sight of it—modest, a bit worn around the edges, but solid. The walls were thick stone, and the roof tiles were uneven but secure-looking. A carved lintel above the door bore a simple pattern of leaves and vines.

"It's not much," Uldrek said into the silence. "But it stood through the war, so... figured it might hold a little longer."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You think that's a selling point?"

He shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Just saying—it's stubborn."

"Like someone else I know," I murmured, which earned me a brief chuckle.