Page 8

J ulep woke up feeling flat. Her room was drenched with yellow sunlight, and she judged it to be mid-morning.

The room was clean, with wooden floors and wool rugs, a comfortable bed and plenty of fluffy blankets. There was a wardrobe in the corner and a private bathroom with running water.

It was palatial, by her standards. Her old home, which had been one of the nicest in the village, still relied on an outhouse and hand drawn water from the rain barrel or well.

She'd had to heat the water on top of the stove by herself, fill the bathtub, and then empty it again.

Most days, she'd settled for a fast scrub in her wash basin. Baths were a luxury.

It took an effort, but she finally got up. New furry slippers had been left beside the bed, and there was a cozy bathrobe draped at the end.

The room was warm, so she assumed someone had stoked the small coal stove for her. It was a pretty stove, with blue tile over fancy cast iron. There was a copper teapot of water on it, and tea things on a small table.

She made tea and nibbled on a fresh biscuit with jam. She didn't have a lot of appetite yet, but it was returning. She was getting better.

Encouraged, she washed up and took a look in the wardrobe. Two dresses in her size hung there, with the choice of shoes or ankle boots. Undergarments were folded in a neat stack on a shelf inside.

There was a small note on the folded garments. “Didn't know what you liked, so I kept it simple. You'll get a chance to pick out something better shortly.”

By this time she expected competence, but Artur was also kind. It was encouraging.

She chose a light brown dress with shiny black buttons and velvet trim. It was nice, but not too fancy, and comfortable. She appreciated the practicality.

Goblins don't divorce, she murmured. They kill each other from time to time, but don't divorce, Artur had said.

She didn't want to be married to a goblin, but it could be worse. The husbands her family chose would have cheerfully murdered her. At least Artur actually liked her.

A proverb popped into her head and she snorted. If you don't want to be adored, don't rescue stray dogs.

Artur was hardly a dog, but it seemed that he was taking the rescue to extremes.

She simply wasn't in the mood to style her wild curls, so she brushed her hair and tied it back with a clip that had been left on the dressing table. Hair up, hair down. Neither one was going to make her beautiful, but at least it could be out of her eyes.

??

“Everything in the house is available to her, nothing is closed to her,” Artur told his adopted nephew, Zac.

The sixteen year old looked at him skeptically. Tall and skinny, he had close cropped dark hair and an earring. “That seems extreme. I agree it doesn't sound like she's working with your enemies, but that doesn't mean she's trustworthy.”

Artur clapped him on the shoulder. “You'll be an excellent lieutenant one day. You're right to be suspicious.

“I said to allow her access, but we'll watch and see what she does with it. It's the fastest way to test her.”

His fourteen year old sister Gallumi had black braided hair, double earrings, freckles and a big nose. She also dressed like a young soldier most of the time. “I still can't believe you married a mousy human...oh wow!”

Julep had just entered the room of course. Her expression was stoic. She'd obviously overheard the girl talking about her, and was not surprised by her opinion.

Gal walked up to Julep, wide-eyed. She looked her over, rapidly reevaluating. “But you're beautiful! How is that possible? Most of the humans I've seen are pale sticks!”

Surprised, Julep drew back. “I'm not beautiful.” She looked at the girl with deep suspicion, as if she suspected her of flattery.

The goblin girl snorted. “Yeah, right! Big curls, big nose, big freckles.” She waved her hands, indicating Julep's ample chest. “You even have big eyes,” she said in gloomy envy. “I bet you'll get fat when you're pregnant, too. It's not fair!”

“Gal,” Artur growled.

She looked at him in surprise, and then realized. “Oh! Sorry. I forgot. Forgive me for being stupid, please,” she said formally. “I wasn't expecting you to be so pretty.”

Julep laughed in disbelief. The girl seemed sincere, but no one had ever admired her before. It was so strange. “I forgive you.”

Artur stepped forward, kissed her hand and then placed it on his forearm. “Are you hungry? No? Why don't we go to the sitting room and order some drinks and snacks, anyway. I'm feeling peckish, and the kids are always ready to eat.

“By the way, this is my niece and nephew, Gal and Zac. They are my adopted children. I believe I've mentioned them.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Julep said. She appreciated the support of Artur's arm. She wasn't quite steady yet.

The sitting room had big windows and a blue iron stove. He settled her on one couch and then took a chair facing her. Like the rest of the house, it was decorated with comfortable furniture of good quality, but not showy.

A servant brought hot cider, tea and goblin coffee. There was also an array of sausages, cheese, pickles and buttery biscuits.

Julep found she was a little hungrier than she thought, and filled a small plate.

Artur smiled approvingly. Despite his claim of hunger, he merely took a cup of Goblin coffee. He liked his plain, without butter or spices.

Gal sat next to Julep, the better to admire her. Her brother sat next to Artur, his expression polite but reserved.

Artur smiled at her. “Now then, to business. I secured your cart and sheep, they're in my stables. The gold was deposited in the bank. As soon as you're feeling better, I'll take you there so you can see for yourself.

“Meanwhile, here's your bank book.” He took a small book from his pocket and handed it to her.

Julep stared at him. When he nodded encouragingly to the book, she opened it and saw her money faithfully recorded. Every cent was there.

Stunned, she looked at him. “Why? I would have never known if you'd taken it.”

He looked at her keenly. “That's not how I want our relationship to be. I want you to trust me.”

She blinked at him, overcome. It was going to take a while to process his honesty. Goblins weren't known for being altruistic.

He smiled. “It was a good idea, parking by the compost pile. Unfortunately, I rode in the cart, so it was already too late.

“Goblins can smell gold the way you smell pie. Also, there was a slight jingle in the bottom of the cart. You did a good job silencing the coins between the felt, but I was right on top of them.”

He did not add that pain had made him hyper aware. The gold had helped, giving him something else to think about.

“The money is yours to do with you as you like, although I will happily advise you about investments, if you like. I'm rather good at making money.”

Zac snorted. “Rather good..!”

Julep looked at him, confused.

“He's rich as a king,” Zac explained.

Julep pinched the bridge of her nose. This was all rather much.

“I am,” Artur said mildly. “As your husband, I’ll take care of your household expenses. Clothes, food, allowance and the like.”

“I'm in charge of shopping!” Gal said. “You boys won't like it, and I know who the best dressmakers are. I'll have the most fashionable aunt in the city,” she said proudly.

Julep looked at her, surprised. The girl was dressed for combat in pants and light armor. She certainly didn't look like an expert on clothes and accessories.

“I'm not really much for fashion,” Julep protested mildly.

Gal rolled her eyes. “Every woman likes nice clothes. Don't worry, we'll get you clothes that you can do real things in. You just need some things that you can be charming in. You know, when Uncle Artur needs to go out for business.”

“When you're ready,” Artur hastily assured her.

“Take all the time you need to recover. That's the important thing.” He glanced at his pocket watch.

“Speaking of which, the city doctor will come over and examine you.

I want to make sure we're doing everything right, and Goblin City doctors are the best.”

Zac grunted, but held his peace. Maybe he didn't like doctors.

Artur sent him a knowing smile.

Zac abruptly stood. “Well, I'm off. You coming sis?”

Gal looked surprised and glanced at Artur. “Er...yes. It was nice meeting you. We'll talk soon.”

Julep decided she'd missed a signal. She'd have to pay more attention.

Artur noted her trepidation. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, familiar book. He handed it to her. “Now's a good time to tell you that I found your notebooks in the cart. I read them, of course.”

At her wary look, he added, “Wouldn't you have?”

Probably, but she didn't have to like it.

She rubbed her thumb over the scuffed leather cover. She'd chronicled the creation of her special pain medicine and her final days with her father. That was personal, and she didn't appreciate him knowing about it. “So you read it. Now what?”

“Now I think that your relatives were even stupider than I realized. They had the creator of Spill It and sold her. Morons! Even if you didn't have a penny to your name, you would become wealthy again. They threw that away on a stupid marriage scheme.”

She looked at him suspiciously. All this flattery wasn't necessarily soothing. If he wanted her to work for him...

"I should add that we reverse engineered your formula three months ago. We use tangle root instead of leeky mushroom,” he said somewhat apologetically.

“Tangle root?” She was surprised. “That's bad for your liver.”

“Our customers weren't using it for pain relief. It was an alternative to interrogation. Not your intended use, but in a way it does prevent pain.”

She exhaled deeply.

She'd come to peace with the fact that people were using it in ways she had not intended. A man could use a log to heat his home or turn it into a club and murder his wife. The log was not the problem.

“Of course, now that we know what goes into the formula, I'm sure we can use your more benign ingredients. The cost is the same, I believe.”

She grunted. She didn't know how to feel about that. Mostly annoyed. She didn't like people copying her work.

“I will be setting aside the earnings from that formula and investing it for you. After all, it wouldn't exist without you and you've certainly earned it.”

Her head whipped up. She stared at him, shocked. “You're going to pay me?” She'd assumed he was just going to profit like everyone else.

He was watching her closely. “I'm not going to force you to work for me. I already employ several brilliant herbalists.”

He smiled. “If you want to make herbal remedies, that's your business. I expect that your new life will take some adjustment. If your work makes you feel more comfortable, by all means, pursue it.

“Today, I feel it will be enough to meet the chef. He will want to know your favorite foods.”

He distracted her so skillfully, she didn't have time to dwell on what he said. It was probably just as well, because she had a lot to think about.