Page 74 of Her Orc Protector

"You're cooking," I said, surprised. Hobbie rarely took over the hearth unless asked.

"You were busy mooning," she replied tartly, but there was no real bite to it.

I felt my cheeks heat but didn't deny it. Instead, I settled Ellie in her small chair near the table and moved to slice bread, the familiar motion calming my scattered thoughts.

Hobbie began to hum—something old and minor-keyed that I didn't recognize but that made me think of deep forests and stone circles. The sound blended with the soft bubbling of the pot and Ellie's occasional babbling, creating a quiet harmony that settled around us like dust motes in sunlight.

The door opened, and Uldrek stepped in, his hair damp, a towel slung over one shoulder. He crossed to where I stood and brushed a kiss to my temple as he passed, a casual gesture that still made my stomach flutter.

"Smells good," he said, nodding to Hobbie. "What is it?"

"Stew," she answered, not elaborating further.

He raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged, smiling. These small, wordless exchanges had become our own language—built of half-glances and familiar gestures, comfortable as worn shoes.

Ellie chose that moment to fuss, tired and hungry. Her face scrunched up in preparation for a full cry, but before it could build, Hobbie was there, scooping her up with surprising gentleness.

"Hush now," she murmured, settling the baby against her shoulder. "No need for that."

I watched, still a bit amazed at how easily Hobbie had taken to Ellie, despite her general disdain for most creatures. The brownie swayed slightly, patting Ellie's back in a rhythm that quickly soothed her back to contentment.

Uldrek moved to help me finish setting the table—bowls, spoons, the fresh bread I'd sliced. It was ordinary. It was enough.

He reached for his bowl just as three sharp knocks sounded at the door.

We all froze, the sound hanging in the air like glass about to shatter. The knocks came again—three quick raps. Not hostile, but precise. Official.

Uldrek's eyes met mine across the table. I nodded once, and he moved to the door, his stance shifting subtly into something more alert, more guarded.

He opened it to reveal a young man in council colors—blue and gray, neatly pressed, though his collar looked a bit tight—a courier, trying to hide how nervous he was to be standing on our doorstep at dusk.

"Summons for Miss Fairbairn," he said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat. "Sealed file. Council-mandated delivery."

I stepped forward, my heart suddenly pounding, though I kept my face calm. The courier held out a sealed envelope, thick parchment with the council's wax seal.

"Sign here, please," he said, offering a small ledger.

I looked down at the envelope, and my breath caught. There, in neat script across the front, was not the name I had been using in Everwood.

Isolde Duskryn.

My married name, written plainly for anyone to see.

I took the ledger and signed for the letter with a steady hand, though it felt like someone else was moving my fingers. The courier took it back with a nod, glanced once more at Uldrek—still standing like a sentinel in the doorway—and quickly retreated.

Uldrek closed the door and turned to me. "Issy?"

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I moved to the table and set the envelope down, the parchment stark against the worn wood. I sat, my legs suddenly feeling unsteady.

Hobbie watched from across the room, still holding Ellie, who had gone quiet as if sensing the shift in the air. Uldrek remained near the door, not speaking but not moving away either.

After a long moment, I reached for the envelope, breaking the seal with my thumb. The parchment inside was heavy, official, bearing the embossed Seal of Everwood at the top.

I read aloud, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.

"You are hereby summoned to appear before the Civic Council of Everwood in the matter of Duskryn v. Duskryn. Hearing to take place tomorrow morning, eighth bell."

I set the paper down, exhaling slowly.