Someone knocked at the door. Matthew raised his brows but went to open it. Eleanor couldn’t see the person past the forester’s broad frame, but she sounded young and enthusiastic. “Ma said I was to drop by and say hello here, after I visited the others, to make sure Cadan’s wife had another familiar face tomorrow morning. She may have to stay back as Pa’s leg’s acting up.”

Sarah called out. “Does she need more salve for it?”

Matthew stepped back, letting a girl a year or two younger than Eleanor, with Ingrid’s features but none of her reserve, into the cottage before closing the door behind her. She replied. “No, thank you, she has a good stock, but he’s always worst in the morning.”

She turned to smile at Eleanor. “Hello, I’m Ingrid’s daughter, Tilly, and I can’t wait to hear all your stories of town life and what you’ve seen the rich people do.”

Eleanor couldn’t help but smile back across the table. Tilly reminded her of the sweet, bouncy puppy Mistress Azimi, the trader who taught her the language and ways of the Sun Empire, had brought with her last time. She replied. “I don’t think they’re as interesting as people think, but I can tell you about the time the Mayor fell off the stage during the Summoning Spring Dance last year.”

Tilly giggled, then her eyes widened. “Oohhh, one thing though. I went by the smithy near to first on Ma’s orders and when Martha heard about you, she set up a screech like a scalded cat and threw a bowl clear across the room. When I left, she was scolding at her Pa loud enough for old Maggie to hear.”

Cadan looked confused. “Why?”

The three villagers all spluttered. Sarah replied. “Because she decided when you arrived, that you were her property, and persisted in it, despite you never so much as looking twice at her.”

Eleanor’s stomach dropped; she’d never thought he may have had someone else. She pinched at a fold of Cadan’s sleeve, avoiding his eyes, as she quietly asked. “Was there someone else? Not her, but another, somewhere, you can’t marry now?”

Cadan pulled is arm away, only to wrap it around her shoulders. “You worry about the strangest things. If I was self-promised to another, we wouldn’t be here.”

She smiled at the table, still not able to look at him, then felt his arm tense. “Have you lost your chance with someone now?”

That made her look up at him, and roll her eyes at his worried expression. “If you were at the dance, you’ve seen all my prospects. No. Not one of them, nor anyone elsewhere.”

She grinned. “Although I’ve yet to visit the Court-of-All-Nations.”

She’d forgotten the others where there until Tilly squealed. “You’ve travelled?”

Eleanor nodded, but the cascade of questions clearly on Tilly’s lips was cut off by a bad-tempered thump on the door.

Matthew opened the door to a hulking figure even larger than him. “Evan Smith, what is it you’re after this evening? Burn paste?”

The voice that answered was more of a growl. “I’m after the cloak your no-use apprentice failed to deliver yesterday.”

Sarah plucked the cloak Eleanor had used from where she’d hung it and reached past Matthew to thrust it at the man outside. “There you are, cleaned and dried.”

The man snorted. “Ah, no. I’ve not come all this way to not get a look at the little piece of town trash who’s stolen my daughter’s intended.”

Eleanor’s spine straightened. Town trash? Who was this uncouth little villager to talk? Cadan tensed beside her, a different tightness to the worried squeeze of before. His expression was that of a hunter in the field.

She wasn’t prepared for his murmur. “Stay nice. We need to live with these people.”

What? She was supposed to smile sweetly and swallow the insult? Did he not know who her father was? He could buy this entire village and not even notice the cost.

Matthew stepped to one side but didn’t leave the door. “Eleanor. This is Evan, the Woodbine smith. You’ll likely meet his wife and daughter in the morning.”

Evan looked her up and down. “Well, he didn’t marry her for her looks, that’s for certain. What skills does she bring?”

None. She brought none. And who her father was would mean nothing to this ignorant, belligerent bear. She stayed silent, trying not to look as terrified as she felt.

The silence stretched until Sarah broke it. “She’s young and new to village life, she intends to train in the skills the village needs.”

Evan snorted again. “She’ll need to learn to talk first. You’re a fool, boy for tossing over my girl for that weak, wishy-washy town girl.”

Cadan frowned. “Martha? But isn’t she walking out with the castle messenger? I’ve bumped into her kissing him behind the mill wheel any number of times.”

Eleanor pinched her lips on a laugh, watching Sarah and Matthew do the same. Tilly didn’t quite manage to suppress her giggle. The smith reddened and opened his mouth, then shut it again in a ferocious scowl.

“Just keep that town brat out of my way, I’ve no time for parasites and she’ll regret any free ride she tries on me.”

Cadan had relaxed but now went on the hunt again, eyes intent and focused on Evan. “Just to be clear, Evan Smith, if anything was to happen to my wife at your hands, you’ll be the regretful one.”

Evan barked an ugly laugh. “You think to go up against me?”

Cadan leaned back, but still focused. “I’m the son of a Highfells ranger and you’re smaller and slower than a troll.”

The laugh cut off, as the smith tried not to look nervous. He humphed, and stomped into the night.

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