Page 3 of Sky and the Grumpy Troll

“This isn’t—” I started, and stopped, because I had no way to finish the sentence. A denial would require me to explain why I had permitted a half-naked human to hold the most guarded part of my body. Why was I still permitting it? “Who is that?” I asked, pointing to the woman, trying to distract them.

“Oh! This is Blarinda, don’t mind her, definitely not here for matchmaking purposes,” Grunnhild said, earning a confused glance from Blarinda.

“Are you really the famous writer, Moerrven Mossren?” Blarinda asked, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she looked a little disappointed.

“I am.”

The human shifted on my shoulders, and Grunnhild’s eyes lit up, and I realized they had already drawn the only conclusion our culture offered them.

“So romantic,” Blarinda said, fanning herself. “A soulmate after such a great loss. Just like one of your books!”

The plan formed in my mind before I could stop it.

“This is, well, I shouldn’t say it in front of him, but I suppose he probably knows in his heart, so I might as well let the cat out of the bag. He is my… soulmate. And I plan to ask for his hand in marriage.”

Dagmarra burst into tears of joy.

“Your soulmate?” Dagmarra whispered, clasping her hands beneath her chin. “What’s that language he was speaking?”

“Yes, and, you see, he is a traveler from a far-off land, and has lost his aetherwoven bracelet, though I can understand him perfectly without it, especially with the, er, trolgar bond and all that.”

“Ah, it is like one of your stories!” Dagmarra swayed where she sat, dangerously close to a swoon.

“I suppose. In a way. We’ve only just met, um, last week, when I rescued him from highwaymen.”

“But we saw you last week! Why didn’t you mention it?” Grunnhild asked.

I waved a hand. “Oh, you know. Don’t want to spoil it before I know it’s certain! Anyway, we were just out for a lovely afternoon walk—”

“To repair Bryndala’s bridge, so romantic!” Dagmarra sighed.

“Right, to repair the bridge and then head into town to Thessaly’s shop for a new bracelet.”

The human on my shoulders started to struggle to get free, and I put a hand on his waist, holding him still, hoping it looked like I was petting him.

“How did you rescue him?” Blarinda asked.

“Oh, it’s a long story; you don’t need the details.” I regretted my lies immediately.

“Why does he wear so few clothes?” Blarinda asked.

“Oh! Well, this is the cultural dress of his land! Very alluring, of course, but we were just talking about going into town to get him something more sensible.”

“Before you lost the bracelet,” Blarinda said, eyes a bit sharper than either of my sisters.

“Yes, well, bridge repairs, you know how that goes!”

“How romantic. Perhaps you should make it into a novel? A human from a distant land falls for a sad widower troll.” Dagmarra sighed, clutching her hands to her chest.

The human from the far-off land leaned down and bit my ear.

I covered my yelp with a laugh. “Just a love nip, such a cheeky boy.”

“Well!” Grunnhild turned to the young troll woman with the smooth efficiency of a general redirecting troops. “Blarinda, dear, it seems my brother has sorted himself out. I’m so sorry for wasting your afternoon. Shall we take you home? Dagmarra, stop crying.”

“I can’t stop crying,” Dagmarra said, crying. “He said soulmate, Grunn. He said it.”

“Well, we are off,” I said quickly. “Can’t have him half-naked and unable to communicate. Goodbye, dear sisters!”