He disagreed. “There is every need. I will ensure your protection.”
“There have been no more reports of rosvoi in the area,” she snapped.
“That does not mean there is no danger. Predators roam Uribern, predators that would see you as no more than a tasty morsel.”
Ursula pressed her lips together in a thin line of anger. However, she knew when she was beaten. “I leave in thirty minutes. Don’t be late.”
Zul knew she wasn’t joking: shewouldleave without him. He headed toward her studio to supervise the loading of wares into the hoverwagon to which two numpties had been hitched. The castrati had the task well in hand, having streamlined the process into an efficient science, ensuring porcelain and stoneware items made the journey intact and undamaged. Seeing thecastrati needed neither his supervision nor assistance, he took some time to return to his quarters and arm himself.
Ursula met him at the hoverwagon a few minutes before the appointed time, Crow’s hand clasped in hers. Her sour expression conveyed more clearly than words her annoyance that he had not been late. The castrati assisted her and her son in climbing into the hoverwagon. Another servant hopped up beside her and picked up the reins.
“Are you not riding?” she inquired, her tone haughty.
“I’ll escort you on foot,” he replied and took a step. The castratus driving the hoverwagon said nothing, but flicked the reins. Suvesh, still recuperating from his injuries, would remain at the manor while Hurvi took charge of the youngling. The numpties lurched forward and kept pace with him.
The journey ended without incident at the intended destination. Accompanied by her mate, Sifgul, Mistress Addilli emerged from their storefront and greeted her. Sifgul, the more lenient of her two mates, allowed Addilli to dash forward and take Ursula’s hand in friendship.
“I see the warrior remains, so the rumors must be true,” Addilli whispered, casting curious glances at Zul. “Gallik and Sifgul have kept watchful eyes on your shop. There has been no trouble.”
Ursula gave her hand a light squeeze and smiled. “It’s so lovely to see you again. I’ve been wanting to have a nice chat with another woman.” She glanced at the berserker. “Men. Ugh. They’re so overbearing.”
Addilli giggled and darted a glance at Sifgul who nodded at her, giving her permission to continue to socialize with their Prima. “So, is the rumor true? Is he the new Third in the Fangrys Triad?”
“Yes, he is,” Ursula replied and forced herself to give credit where credit was due. “He’s a good male and a good match for us.”
“You must tell me all about him overti’chal. I have a fresh pot brewed.”
The two females retreated to catch up on local gossip as the Prima’s castrati finished unloading her wares. Ursula enjoyed hearing the local gossip even if she shared little of her own. Addillifussed over Crow, plying him with snacks and praise while his mama allowed the indulgence. The female also cast furtive glances at the hulking red berserker who stationed himself within sight of them while still keeping a watchful eye over the shop. Nearly bursting with curiosity and questions, Addilli respected Ursula’s reticence and contained the urge to pester her friend for details.
With a fond farewell and a promise to meet socially forti’chaland cookies baked by the Prima herself—Addilli practically quivered with excitement at being invited to visit the Fangrys compound—Ursula set herself to the task of displaying her wares while keeping a watchful eye on her son.
As he was accustomed to doing, Crow occupied himself with the stash of toys his mother kept for him in the shop’s back room while Hurvi hovered nearby, one eye on the shop and one eye on him.
Zul noticed the castratus’ vigilance and approached him. “I will see to the Prima’s safety. You need only concern yourself with the youngling.”
“Yes, my lord.” The castratus bowed and disappeared into the back room.
Heat warmed the base of his horns at the servant’s words. He’d been called by his military rank, as “Third,” and a host of other names—some less than complimentary—but never as “my lord.” The privileges of being the Third of the Fangrys Triad made him feel guilty as though he’d stolen something valuable rather than having been gifted something priceless. Scanning the shop, he found a corner that wasn’t packed with merchandise and which gave him an optimal view of the space. He stationed himself there and stood guard.
Ursula found herself relaxing under Zul’s watchful presence. The anxiety she’d refused to acknowledge eased: the berserker—herberserker—would keep her safe from all manner of assault ranging from mere rudeness to outright violence. Even if he never said a word, his mere presence served as a deterrent.
She finished wiping down the newly unpacked wares, and they gleamed in the sunshine streaming through the storefront’slarge windows. She clustered the half dozen bowls and vases Zul had made under her tutelage, pleased with the way they’d turned out. They’d quickly learned that he preferred to work with the more forgiving stoneware clay, and his wares had a rugged, masculine appearance that her finer work did not. She thought they might appeal to the many bachelors in the village, and he had not objected to her suggestion that they be offered for sale in her shop. If his skin were not red, she thought she might have detected a bashful blush across his sharp cheekbones when she’d made that suggestion.
News spread quickly through the village that the Prima’s shop had reopened for business. Before long, the first customers entered. Gazes flickering to the hulking berserker lurking in the corner, they bowed and greeted the Prima before looking over the merchandise. They bid her a polite farewell and departed.
“Does this happen often?” Zul inquired, joining her at the counter.
She blinked at him. “Does what happen often?”
“People come into your shop, gawk, and leave.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes, yes. That’s the reality of retail. Many customers are simply curious and just want to snoop. Some actually want to buy.”
“Why do you not hire employees?”
She grinned at him, and he felt his cock twitch. “My shop barely makes rent; it certainly doesn’t generate enough revenue to pay an employee. When I can’t be here, I rely on one or two castrati from Fangrys to work here. Besides, I like interacting with people. It’s why I became an event planner in the first place.” She glanced through a window. “However, event centers really don’t seem to be a thing here on Uribern, at least not that I’ve seen.”
“Tell me about them.”
