Julian spent the rest of the day fighting to keep a straight face - and losing.

  The bridge troll’s smug satisfaction when she’d dropped a hoard’s worth of coin at her feet was unforgettable.

  Julian caught himself grinning ear to ear every time he recalled it, and his good mood took him all the way through the rest of council and closing ceremonies; tasks he otherwise would have dreaded flew by in no time at all.

  She had been spectacular. A beautiful, funny, captivating delight. One who was meeting him here at the stables any minute now, since John had informed him that Gerda’s goodbyes with Henrietta and Lady Amy finished ten minutes past.

  “Wait, who are we waiting for?” Sir Jeffry asked, his eyebrows raised. The half-elf sword fighter was fully ready to go before everyone else and already mounted. He’d probably been here for hours reviewing their itinerary and going over their travel supplies. A sheet of paper and a quill were floating in front of him, keeping notes.

  “Miss Gerda.” Sir Tully said, throwing his saddle on his horse and starting on the straps.

  “But… why?”

  All eyes turned to Julian, who didn’t look up from his own task. “She asked for the escort.”

  Julian had finished his own preparations and was going over Gerda’s mount with a final inspection. The horse was a dapple roan, and playful but steady. She would do well for the troll.

  “And?” Sir Jeffry pressed.

  “And our illustrious leader said yes.” Visha came out of the stable with her horse on a lead, Sir Pram right behind her. She was in full armor, with her enchanted halberd shrunk and latched at her hip. “Tully, are you not ready yet?”

  “Calm your horses, I’m almost done.” The paladin was lavishing pets on his mount instead of properly securing his saddlebags. To the horse he muttered, “Nobody respects me.”

  “Is she bringing her own supplies?” Jeffry grabbed the sheet out of the air and signed it with his finger nail. The paper disappeared.

  “I prepared her saddlebags yesterday.” Visha said. Just one of the many things Julian had tasked her with.

  Jeffry frowned. “On whose expense–”

  “She’s here.” Sir Pram said, the selkie’s eyes squinting up the path. Gerda was quite a ways away, but all conversation stopped as Julian’s closest all turned to watch her saunter up the path.

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  The bridge troll was wearing a purple tunic that hung down to her thighs and cinched with a long tan belt at the waist, brown leather tights and calf high boots with a small heel perfect for riding. Her hair was rebraided and then each braid woven together in a singular larger braid.

  “Miss Gerda,” Julian stepped forward, leading her horse to the front. “May I introduce you to Berry Berry.”

  “Hello Berry Berry,” Gerda smiled at the horse and offered her hand, who sniffed it once and then butt the hand, demanding pets. Gerda acquiesced, rubbing Berry Berry on her nose, her neck and all the way down to her saddle. The troll turned to him. “Do I just pull myself up?”

  “First thing is make sure the horse isn’t going to walk out from under you.” Julian lifted the reins. “I’ll hold her for you this time. Then you make sure Berry Berry’s legs are all firmly on the ground and stable. Stand by her shoulder, yes like that. Now you hook the ball of your foot in the stirrup and then you can pull yourself up. Make sure to account for the extra height of the saddle, and settle in the seat slowly once you're up. Got it?”

  “Sure.” After her foot was in the stirrup, she hopped awkwardly three times before getting a good grip and pulling herself up.

  “Perfect,” He told her, "Now hold the reins like so.”

  Jeffry made a choking noise. The half-elf was staring at Julian like he’d grown an extra head.

  “You get used to it.” Sir Tully also swung into his saddle and urged his horse forward, coming up beside Jeffry. “Just pretend you didn’t see anything and Visha won’t hit you.”

  “She only does that to you Tully,” Sir Pram said, matter of fact.

  “Line up,” Visha ordered, leading her horse to stand beside Sir Jeffry. Pram and Tully came up behind. “We are on duty here until we reach the Northern Fortress, so look alive people!”

  Julian mounted his own horse, still holding Berry Berry’s lead, and led her to the front. “Do you have your identification ready, Miss Gerda?”

  “I do,” She nodded, and then turned to Sir Jeffry, “Now what was it you were saying about expenses?”

  Julian stared at his friend. Hard.

  “Nothing, Miss Gerda. It’s all t-taken care of.” The words pained Jeffry to say, making him stumble, but he managed.

  “Now now,” The troll shook her head and smiled, “I’m happy to help where I can.”

  “Let us talk about this once we are free of the city.” Julian cut in. He clicked his tongue twice and then nudged his horse forward. Gerda’s mount followed on the lead, and the rest came after them. “We’ll have plenty of time on the road.”

  It was later than he’d wished to leave, but they should still make it to Borrow Grove by nightfall.

  Behind him, Sir Tully whispered to Sir Pram in a clear voice, “Do you think Miss Gerda is going to give up before we reach the border, or after?”

  “I don’t think she’ll give up at all.” Sir Pram replied, not bothering to whisper. Gerda pretended not to hear, though one long ear twitched.

  Sir Tully smiled. “Bet.”

  Before Julian could chastise the paladin, Visha turned to face Tully. Whatever he saw on the elf woman’s face made him shrivel in his saddle. He exaggerated closing his lips, sucking them into a thin line and then looked away, cowed.

  They were approaching the palace gates, where the first checkpoint was, when Gerda looked around and asked, “So… where is Sir John?”