Page 36 of Healed By the Grumpy Elf

"Talented." The word rolls off his tongue with obvious disbelief. He laughs again, louder this time. "That what they call it in the High Court these days? Is that why you’re here, in this town? For some talent?"

My heart rate accelerates, and I suppress a desire to shove the troll out of my clinic and onto the pavement. I don’t like what he’s insinuating about Maeve. Not at all. I don’t even want to hear her name in his mouth.

"I don't follow," I say evenly.

"Come now, Doc." Braggstone leans against the reception desk, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "Let's not play games. I've been making some inquiries about you. You’re a fascinating guy, really."

Cold dread pools in my stomach.

"You're quite the mystery man," he continues, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Former High Court head surgeon, decorated officer of the Elven Army Medical Corps. Prestigious positions, fit for an ambitious man. Not exactly the kind of job one leaves voluntarily to set up shop in a backwater town like Saltford Bay."

I remain silent, keeping my expression neutral even though my insides are churning with anger. How much does he know? And more importantly, why is he here telling me this?

"Very unfortunate, that business with the duke’s son."

My hands clench into fists at my sides, but I maintain my composure. This is what he came for, to see me break, to confirm his suspicions. I won't give him the satisfaction.

"Is there a point to this conversation, Principal Braggstone?" My voice remains steady despite the anger coursing through me.

He pushes himself away from the desk and takes several steps toward me. He's using his size now, attempting to intimidate me physically. I stand my ground, refusing to back up. The troll may be bulkierthan me, but elves are fast and strong in ways an oaf like him cannot suspect. I am not scared of him.

"The point, Doc, is that certain people in this town might find your history troubling." His breath smells of onions and something sour. "The school board, for instance."

The threat is clear, but I don't flinch. "My medical credentials are impeccable."

"Your credentials aren't what concerns me." He leans in closer. "It's your character."

"I'm not hiding," I say, the words coming automatically even as I recognize the lie.

"No?" His smile widens, revealing more of those long teeth. "Then you wouldn't mind if, say, Maeve learned why you really came to Saltford Bay?"

Maeve's name in his mouth sends a surge of protective fury through me that I struggle to contain. This isn't about my professional standing in Saltford Bay. This is about her.

"Leave Maeve out of this," I say, my voice dropping lower despite my effort to maintain neutrality.

"Ah." His eyes light with triumph at my slip. "I see. Feeling a tad possessive, are you?"

I say nothing, cursing myself for the error.

"She deserves to know who she's getting involved with, don't you think?" He steps back, seemingly satisfied with whatever he's read in my expression. "A man who abandoned his post. Who left a patient to die."

"That's not what happened." The words escape before I can stop them, sharp with a defensive anger I rarely allow myself to express.

"No?" He shrugs his massive shoulders. "Maybe not. But it's what people will believe when they hear the story. Especially coming from the school principal, who's only concerned about the welfare of his students."

My mind races through possibilities, calculating risks and outcomes. If Braggstone spreads this version of events, my reputation in Saltford Bay will be irreparably damaged. Patients will leave. Parents could stop listening to my advice. Refuse to give the tonic to their children.

The outbreak could get out of hand.

That would be unacceptable. Despite what Braggstone thinks, I would never put my patients at risk. Not then, not now.

"What do you want?" I ask finally, the words tasting bitter.

“Simple.” His smile widens. He thinks he won this round. “Stay away from Maeve Callahan.”

There it is. He wants what’s mine, and he’s willing to resort to blackmail to get it, no matter the cost to the children. Something possessive and primal rises in me at the thought of him pursuing her, touching her. I suppress it ruthlessly.

"Maeve and I work together," I say stiffly. "The Pixie-Pox outbreak requires our collaboration. I can hardly refuse to see her when the children are sick."