Page 34 of The Orc Outcast's Miracle

“Like... if a loved one passes away or something really terrifying happens and you can’t stop thinking about it...” Miranda’s throat closed again, and she looked away from the woman, took deep breaths, worked the tiny faces of her babies out of her mind.

“Did something terrible happen to you, Miranda?”

God, how to answer that question when she couldn’t even catch a breath?

“I’m sorry,” Savili said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.” She stepped closer to Miranda and placed a hand on her arm. “We all have some horrors in our pasts that are difficult to speak on.”

Some of the tension in Miranda’s chest eased.

“To answer you, there isn’t one particular person from Oakwall that would be of good help.” Savili continued, stroking down her babies back. “We all tend to band together for support. It’s a small community, after all. Barely a thousand at Oakwall and only three hundred at Rove Wood. We keep to ourselves. Only trade among each other. Until Tavggol found Viravia in the woods, no one from the outside had joined our clan for almost four generations.”

“We barely have visits from other orcs,” Iytier said as he took the lid off a crate of apples. “There are only a handful of warriors who we trust to deliver the healing tinctures we make, and they only stay long enough to retrieve them. Not even Karthoc travels to the Rove Woods often. This is the first time he’s set foot in the clan in almost five years. He didn’t even come to tell us about Tavggol’s capture in person. He sent a bird.” The bitterness in Iytier’s tone was obvious.

Miranda blinked with surprise and glanced toward Karthoc still standing with Govek near the perimeter of the birch trees. They both looked tense.

“Savili,” Iytier said tensely, drawing Miranda’s attention. His eyes were narrowed on the crowd.

“Oh, Fades spit,” Savili said, and Miranda scanned the crowd to find what they were looking at, or rather, who.

There was a little group of women gossiping off to the side. Miranda recognized Hilva and the other two. The last woman was new.

She was tall with curves for days and stunning blonde hair that fell in lush waves down her back. Her green eyes were striking, her nose was petite, her lips were full and red enough to make Miranda think she was wearing lipstick.

“Yerina.”

Miranda’s stomach dropped. What the heck was with Govek being surrounded by all these stunning women?

“Fades be.” Iytier dropped the crate he was holding. Likely all the apples were bruised now. His hand raked through his long hair the same way Govek always did, unsettling it from its queue. “I thought Viravia sent a message asking for Yerina to be kept in the village today.”

“She did. But clearly, Headman Gerald didn’t comply with her request,” Savili muttered.

Miranda glanced back at Yerina as the woman flipped her hair in the wind. Her long-lashed eyes scanned as if searching for someone. Did she know Govek would be here? Was she going to confront him outright?

The anxiety lacing the back of Miranda’s throat hardened and her spine steeled as she readied for the verbal fight that was sure to come. The sensation was all too familiar from her time spent in the group home.

Savili heaved a sigh. “Miranda, I’m sorry. I’m not sure how much you know about Yerina?—”

“I know enough.” Miranda said firmly. “I know she’s Govek’s former lover and I know that she’s been spreading lies about him. Lies that I fully intend to put a stop to.”

“What?” Savili sounded baffled, and her wide-eyed expression betrayed her.

“That’s one reason we came to the trade today.” Miranda saw no reason not to be forthright with the woman. If anything, Savili could help.

But instead of confidence, Savili said hesitantly, “Miranda, you shouldn’t. Yerina can be extremely difficult.”

“Savili is right,” Iytier said, expression tight. “It would likely be best for you and Govek to go. Come back to the trade a different day.”

Miranda narrowed her eyes. “You both want the lies about Govek to continue?”

Savili immediately looked to Iytier, and the male raked his hand through his hair again.

Miranda’s stomach twisted. Had she guessed wrong? Did they dislike Govek too?

“We want...” Savili cut off, patted her baby, who had fallen asleep. Oh, to be little and not have to put up with any of this garbage.

“Can I be blunt?” Iytier asked, his voice low and serious. Miranda nodded, wishing he would get on with it. “The bulk of us that were Tavggol’s closest friends know how Govek truly is at heart. We know he would never hurt a woman the way Yerina claims he hurt her.”

“We do.” Savili assured her with a firm nod. “He made Haysik’s cradle. You should see it, Miranda. It’s obvious he put incredible care and time into carving it. And I would know. My father is a woodworker.”

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