Page 43 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

A moment passes, and then he scoots closer. His warm palm lands on my hip, and he strokes my skin, up and down, several times. Then he reaches past me, and I know he’s holding on to Morg.

I hide my smile in the pillow, too happy and comfortable for words. This is how things are supposed to be, and I don’t want anything to change that.

Chapter

Fifteen

The next morning, I scramble out of bed early because I don’t want to rush to meet Mara again. I wash and dress while Morg and Torren are still asleep, and my heart leaps happily when they roll together in my absence, holding on to each other. I want to leave them sleeping, because there’s no need for them to get up with me, but I accidentally bump into his chair, clumsy in the half-darkness, and Torren stirs.

I sense more than see that he’s awake, and I walk over to the bed to find both him and Morg with eyes open. They’re staring at each other, but neither is jerking back their hands to break the contact.

“I have to leave,” I whisper. “But you don’t have to get up.”

Morg lifts himself on one elbow and motions for me to lean in. His kiss is soft and sweet, and I almost give in and climb back in bed with them. But I want to show Mara she can count on me, so I sigh and break the kiss. Then I press my lips against Torren’s. He swipes his tongue over my lower lip, sending a shiver of awareness through me, but he’s also careful not to mess up the crown braid I plaited.

“We’ll see you at lunch, I hope,” he murmurs.

I pat his arm. “If not, I will meet you for dinner. You made me a promise last night, and I intend to hold you to your word.”

Heat flashes in his eyes, and he reaches for me, but I leap back, giggling.

“No, no,” I say. “If I join you in bed now, I’ll be late again.”

Before either of them can say anything more, I twist away and sit in the armchair to lace up my boots. I think for a moment that Torren might get up and follow me for one last kiss, but instead, he relaxes back on the pillows, his arm behind his head. I see how Morg looks at him, his gaze skittering down Torren’s broad chest and the chiseled planes of his muscles.

I bite the inside of my cheek to hide a smile. They’re getting more comfortable with each other, and I love it. If they can accept that they’re meant to be with each other just as much as they’re meant to be with me, I believe our future will be amazing.

I manage to eat my breakfast and drink my first cup of tea before the morning rush, and I’m ready for Mara. She arrives in the great hall, armed with her big ledger and a smaller notebook for me. She smiles when she sees me, and I know I did the right thing, getting here early.

I follow her around all day as we tackle the rest of the larders. Afterward, we retreat to her office for planning, and Queen Dawn herself joins us, her baby on her hip. She’s incredibly nice, if a little distracted, which is no wonder considering her baby is teething and fussy. When the king pokes his head through the door to ask if she needs anything, I scramble from my chair and curtsy, then remember I should have done the same to greet the queen, too.

“Oh gods,” the queen says, waving at me to sit again. “Please, we don’t do all this bowing and curtsying, it’s too much.”

I raise my eyebrows but sit again. “All right. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” the king says from the door. “We are happy to have you here, Jasmine.”

He leaves after that, and I’m left gaping after him.

“Mara visited us last night,” Dawn explains gently, “and told us she’s found a person who is better at sums than she is. And that we’re to make certain you stay at the Hill.”

I glance from her to Mara. “You did?” Then I turn back to Dawn. “She did?”

Mara pats my arm. “Aye, and how lucky that you’re here. If you’re content to do this job, I will gladly name you my assistant officially.”

Dawn swipes some drool from her baby’s chin. “I want to spend time with Arvel.”

She motions at her son, who is chewing on a piece of apple and drooling all over his hands. Only one of his tusks has poked through, and he’s adorably lopsided now. He squirms on his mother’s lap, then lets out an outraged squawk when the apple slips from his tiny green fingers.

“And I think Gorvor and I will want more children in the future,” Dawn adds as she hands him another slice. “Which means Mara is overworked a lot of the time, despite having other assistants.”

“I have several who know how to do parts of my daily tasks, but none of them are happy to balance the books,” she explains. “They do a good job, but I dislike giving people tasks they don’t enjoy. You completed your tasks faster than I did these past two days, and you asked questions that showed real interest. I’m hoping that means you liked what we were doing.”

“Oh.” I never thought about it like that, but the work was very satisfying. This morning, I woke up excited to help Mara. “Yes, I liked the work a lot.”

It’s similar to what I’d already been doing at home, only I also had to carry water from the well if the grooms didn’t complete their tasks, or knead the bread in the kitchen whenever my mother’s wrists hurt but there weren’t enough maids to help for the day.

“That’s great to hear,” Dawn says.

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