Page 49 of When the Merchant Met the Orc

“At least there weren’t any ruffians in this one.”

“Thank the Blessed Stones.”

Nate hugs me, his foot wiggling all the while. We sit and listen to Batilda, an orc who serves as a mother figure/kindly gossip for the entire town, and then hear a telling from three water sprites.

Mayor Rustian, a goat shifter, raises his arms. “All right. That’s the end of the Twilight Telling.”

We all cheer, Halvard whooping loudly behind us and Cyrus whistling. Osric applauds politely.

“It’s time for the younglings to go on their way!” Rustion says.

“Nate,” I say, leaning down to Nate will hear me over the excited partygoers, “this is Master Osric.”

Nate looks Osric up and down and then gives him a little bow. “Nice to meet you, Master Osric.”

“And you, as well, lad. I hope you have a fine time tonight. What are you dressed as?”

“Rom the gargoyle, of course!”

Osric and I trade a grin.

“Sorry, my eyes aren’t what they used to be in the dark,” Osric says kindly.

Nate hugs Osric quickly, and Osric awkwardly pats his back. I pull Nate in my arms, and some icing I didn’t notice on his ear gets into my hair.

Nate leans back and grimaces. “Sorry, Ma!”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

“Love is messy!” Nate shouts, his sweet eyes shining.

I love him so much that it aches inside me like the feeling is too big to keep inside.

He hugs me again, then runs up to Halvard. Halvard says something to him that makes him laugh—I’m too far and it’s too crowded with voices to hear—and then Halvard bends to hug Nate. There’s icing on Halvard now, too. I have to chuckle. Halvard wipes the icing from his arm and takes a lick, laughing. Nate bounds off with the others toward Tully, Argos, and Grumlin, the tavern owner. The three of them volunteered to keep the younglings at the tavern for the rest of Nocturne. Tully seems to be doling out her usual Mead Mend to negate the alcohol they’ve imbibed over the last hour. She gives every youngling a bespelled broom and the group flies into the night, their happy laughter ringing through the crisp night air.

I turn to Osric, who has a linen handkerchief out and is rubbing at a spot on his tunic. More icing. Oops.

“Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem.” His words don’t match the tone of his voice, though. It is bothering him.

“Where would you like to talk?” I ask, trying to smooth things over. “How was your journey?”

“How about over there where it’s quieter?” Osric leads me toward a row of benches set under a few of the floating dusk hollows.

I sit beside him and focus on his face while he continues to rub at the spot where the icing was. Around us, some of the dusk hollows go out, and smoke rises from their floating forms. The musicians start up in the center of the square beside Rom’s tower, where he keeps an eye on the weather for us. A lute player strums a slow, sultry melody, and the wood pipe sings over the top of the lower notes. Nocturne dancing is meant to be sexy and serious. It’s not for me, so I look away from that area.

“My journey was good,” Osric says. “Only one broken wagon wheel. Easily fixed by my steward, who joined me.”

“Oh, is your steward here?”

“No, he is at the Acorn Inn, readying my room.”

He could have given his employee the night off, but perhaps the steward has no desire to attend the festivities. Osric stops attempting to clean the oily icing spot and tucks his handkerchief into his pocket.

“It’s all right,” he says, watching me watch him. “I just like things tidy.”

Nate’s words dance through my mind.Love is messy!My stomach twists, and I chew the inside of my cheek. How is Osric going to deal with a little boy?