Page 52 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

“Oh,” she says, covering her mouth with her hand. She throws a wide-eyed glance at Korr. “I’m sorry! I forgot she didn’t know yet.”

“Thank you, Ivy,” Morg chimes in, “for ruining our big surprise. We wanted to take Jasmine there tomorrow.”

She looks properly chastened, but I’m more interested in what Morg said. “You wanted to take me to see a gold mine?”

“Aye,” Torren replies. “We’d finally received permission from the king to take you. It’s our clan’s best-kept secret.”

“That explains so much,” I mutter, thinking of all the gold I’d seen lying around Torren’s workbench. Then I focus back on the contents of the bag my mother sent me. “Did she say anything?” I ask, unable to keep the hope from my voice.

Ivy gives me a smile. “She said it would be best if you didn’t come by the inn anymore,” she admits, “but that if you wanted to, you could write to her by way of her sister. That way, your father won’t intercept your letters.”

I think of my aunt, living in a village farther south. My mother visited her sometimes, and I’d accompanied her on occasion. I didn’t think Mother would have the courage to defy Father in any way, so this little rebellion has surprised me.

“I’ll think about it,” I find myself saying.

The small bag of my belongings isn’t much by way of support. I don’t care about the money, but I’d hoped Ivy and Korr would be able to bring back my clothes and shoes, items I’ll have to replace now. Still, even though my father has turned his back on me, my mother hasn’t, so I have something to be grateful for.

Korr fidgets, his gaze darting at the ceiling every now and then. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was uncomfortable here in the great hall.

Ivy seems to sense his mood, too, because she pats my hand and says, “We’d better head out before they close the main gate for the night. But if you want to talk more, please don’t hesitate to visit. We’ll see you in a couple of days anyway.”

With that, they slip out of the great hall and into the corridor beyond. The dinner crowd at the tables is boisterous and loud as only an orc clan can be, but I feel like I’m protected in a quiet, private bubble with Morg and Torren cuddling me from both sides.

“Your father doesn’t seem like a very kind man,” Morg comments.

“Morg,” Torren growls in warning.

“What?”

“You cannot say things like that,” Torren says, exasperated. “They’re hurtful to Jasmine.”

Morg lets out a huff. “Humans are strange.”

“I’m not hurt,” I say quickly.

They both stare at me, Morg with raised eyebrows, Torren in plain disbelief.

“Well,” I correct myself, “I’m not hurt by Morg voicing the truth. I am hurt by my father’s decision, but I don’t want to dwell on it.”

“Understandable,” Torren rumbles. “We are here for you, no matter what.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Morg asks, his voice muffled by my hair as he leans his head on my shoulder.

I close the linen bag and grip it tightly. “Can you take me to our room?”

Torren carries our half-finished dinner plates back to the kitchens. Then we leave, Morg still clutching me to his chest. We wave goodbye to friends and family still dining, and they call out their farewells to us. It hits me then that I have so many people at the Hill who have accepted me without question, who never once looked at me funny because I am a human.

Ritta and Sarrai had decided to help me before they even knew my name. Rose forgave me even though my father had kicked her out of her work. Mara gave me the opportunity to prove myself and praised me when I did. Ivy, who I barely knew, welcomed me with open arms and wept for me after my family rejected me.

But most of all, my mates chose me—and chose each other so we may live happily. Torren and Morg set aside years of bickering and competing to love me, and in doing so, they grew to love each other, too.

The realization hits me like a hammer to the head, and I gasp, smacking Morg’s shoulder lightly to get him to stop. He halts immediately.

“What’s the matter?” Torren asks, his brow furrowing in a frown.

I stare at him, then blurt out, “I love you.” Then I palm Morg’s cheek, looking him in the eyes, and say, “And I love you. So much.”

Morg lets out a bark of laughter. “I know.”

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