Page 33 of The Orc's Wife

Urgan’s arm sneaked over my shoulders, pressing me to his side.

“Good job,” he murmured into my hair. I swelled with pride. So he had listened and let me handle it! And I impressed him!

After that, we talked to three orcs sitting opposite us, two females and a male. They were much less hostile than my neighbor, and the conversation was even becoming pleasant, as they were telling me about the delights of the capital that I would get to experience when the fall was in full swing.

“As soon as there is the first bite of cold in the air, and the crops have been gathered, we throw the Festival of the Fall Moon,” said one female, who had many little bells sewn onto her sleeves, making her tinkle pleasantly every time she moved her arms. “There are bonfires, and the barrels of the best mead are opened. We dance and feast until morning. It’s beautiful.”

Only one thing kept me from enjoying her story fully: the awareness that if I hadn’t been mated to an orc, the only way for me to attend the festival would be as a servant. Humans gathered those crops, and then they couldn’t even celebrate their work properly.

But I kept my thoughts to myself and did my best to smile. One thought comforted me: Urgan would end the Imperator’s tyranny. Humans would be free again.

Suddenly, the females gasped, staring at an orc who had just entered the hall. He was tall and broad-chested, but his mane was dusted with silver. He walked with a limp but managed to look proud and strong despite of it.

By my side, Urgan stiffened, a low growl vibrating in his throat.

“It’s Ragan!” the females were saying. “Doesn’t he look dashing? Just this morning, the Imperator gave him an audience and they say he’s going to be a new power in the army.”

Meanwhile, the unpleasant orc by my side was leaning to me with a leer.

“If you ever become a widow, know I am available, little thing. I might not be aspowerfulas your mate, but I can make you scream.”

Distracted by the confusion and the tension radiating off Urgan, and overwhelmed by my own nervousness and now anger, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

“I’d never agree to be with someone as disgusting as you,” I spat.

The orc females opposite us gasped just as the orc’s leer turned into a scowl. Urgan’s arm, still draped over my shoulders, squeezed me once, and then he stood up.

“How dare you!” he said, so loud his voice carried over the din. Everyone fell silent, licking their lips at the unfolding scene. I was certain Urgan would challenge the awful orc to a duel for insulting me. And good for him. No one should speak like this to a person.

So it took me a moment to realize Urgan’s cold, angry eyes weren’t trained on that orc. They were trained on me.

“How dare you speak to the Imperator’s trusted advisor in such a way! Do you think that if you’re my mate, you are allowed to do anything? You disappoint me, lady Una. I can’t accept this kind of behavior when we are guests at the Imperator’s court. I tried hard to be patient with you and instruct you in the proper ways, but your faults turned out to be incorrigible. I hereby repudiate our bond. You are no longer my mate.”

I was sitting there, completely frozen, thinking I was trapped in a nightmare. Urgan would never do that. He was mine and I was his, and he had sworn to protect me.

A murmur of voices broke out around us, with one resounding loud over the others. Urzulah’s cackle.

Urgan now turned his head to the servants, who were standing by the walls and watching the scene with open mouths.

“Take that filth away,” he said, his voice dripping with scorn. “She doesn’t belong at this table.”

“And bring her to my chamber,” Urzulah called out with glee. “She’ll be my serving wench.”

When two pairs of strong arms hauled me away, I still couldn’t move, becoming a dead weight for them to drag. And as they dragged me away, their hands cold vises under my armpits, I kept staring at Urgan’s cold, alien face.

The face of an enemy.

I barely registered where they were taking me, so overwhelming was my confusion and the deep hurt in my chest. Why had Urgan done it?! Only an hour before, he had been telling me I’d be his Empress. He had been kissing me like he was drowning and I was his only source of air. And then, he discarded me just like that. Like a dirty rag.

Why?!

The servants carrying me were huffing and puffing but didn’t say a word. I registered we were going up the stairs, not down into the dungeons. Of course. I was being taken to Urzulah’s chamber.

“Wait,” I said, surprised at how hoarse my voice sounded. They stopped immediately. “I’ll walk.”

“Don’t try to run,” one said, an urgent human whisper. “The guards will be on you at once.”

I nodded and walked between them, forcing my weak legs to obey.

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