[Primrose Bolger]

‘Oh, my! I’m here already! And thanks goodness for that. Miss Bunce would have my hide if the vanilla beans and lavender water didn’t get to her in time.’

Prim’s thoughts trailed off as she flicked the reins on Poppy’s back, urging the pony, and the cart she pulled, up toward the Inn’s stable. An Elf met her as she neared it. ‘Curious,’ she thought to herself, ‘how many of the Fair Folk seem to pass through the Dragon. ‘Not like The Floating Log,’ she continued. ‘Good Hobbit folk is what we have there. Though to be truthful, it would liven the place up if a few more interesting passersby would frequent Frogmorton.’

Primrose Bolger set the brake on the small cart, and clambered down from the seat. The Elf looked friendly enough as Prim handed her the lead for Poppy. ‘Mind you now – no oats for this one!’ she instructed the Elf. ‘She’ll swell up with the bloat and I’ll be here for days nursing her.’ The Elf nodded and gave Poppy a reassuring scratch between the ears. ‘Just some hay will hold her for now. Oh, and a carrot or apple, if you will,’ she went on with a reassuring smile, seeing Poppy’s doleful eyes turned on her.

Prim took off her light, homespun, brown wool cloak and shook out the dust from the road. Hanging it for a moment on the side of the cart, she smoothed out the wrinkles of her green skirt and straightened her black vest. She rolled up the sleeves of her white blouse, and got to work – hauling several covered baskets to the door of the kitchen. It was the vanilla beans, the lavender water for faerie cakes, and several other delicacies that the Cook at the Floating Log had sent along – two honeyed hams from Budgeford, a basket of yams from Farmer Burrfoot up near Scary, and several bottles of sweet Maywine from Gammer Larkspur’s cellar in Whitfurrows.

Pushing back the brown curls from her sweaty brow and giving a hasty wipe of her hands on the backside of her white apron, Prim gave a knock on the kitchen door, and opening it wide, peeked her head in.

‘Anyone in?’ she asked in a clear, little voice. ‘I’ve some things here from the Log . . .’