Page 41 of The Orc's Wife

Urzulah stepped closer, almost putting her foot in the shit.

“What did you say?”

I snorted, shaking my head.

“What, are you daft? Don’t you know he didn’t get a mate for all these years because he was hoping you would notice him again? And he only took me for his mate when he thought you were intended for another orc?”

“You’re lying,” Urzulah said, her eyes narrowed to slits.

I clenched my jaw.

“Fine. I don’t care if you believe me. Not only did my mate reject me publicly so he could start courting you, now I’m also your slave. I have to serve the female whom my mate prefers to me. This is bad enough. Do with me what you want. If it means I won’t have to see you again and remember about my humiliation, it will be an improvement.”

“He rejected you because he wanted to court me?” Urzulah said, her eyes glittering. I almost sagged with relief. She took the bait, spirits bless her heart.

“He told me before the feast,” I said reluctantly, hunching my back in defeat. “He said he was sorry, but he couldn’t be with me when he had a chance to be with you. He said more things… before. But they are too painful to repeat.”

“You will tell me everything,” Urzulah said. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and she was almost dancing in place.

“I’d much rather you send me away. Please! Anything will be better than being forced to say these things to you.”

“No, no, no,” she said with a wide grin. “You will stay right here with me, under my protection. Come here, we’ll talk.”

I nodded resignedly, heaving a deep sigh and made to follow, but stopped in the threshold.

“What about…” I gestured to the floor and the now cooling crap.

Urzulah huffed angrily and pointed her finger at me.

“You should have told me all this earlier! It’s your fault I did this. Clean it up or fetch one of those other useless girls.”

The thought of dragging Nat back here when she was having a few moments of respite from Urzulah made me ill. And if I brought Laya, Nat would be left without support.

“I’ll clean it,” I said through clenched teeth. “But I’ll use cleaning supplies.”

Urzulah waved her hand towards the door, wrinkling her nose. “Yes, do. I don’t want you smelling like shit.”

As soon as I met another servant in the wide, airy corridor outside, I asked her about cleaning supplies, and she directed me to a closet down the hall. I had a few minutes to collect myself and decide which bits of the story I could tell her first.

My story was simple, but it was crucial that I feed it to Urzulah in small morsels, drawing it out for as long as I could. I had to do a lot of resisting along the way, pretending that it was much too painful for me to think and speak about.

The story was that Urgan fell in love with Urzulah when he had been young, and she approached him. He started to court her then, but he refused to do one of her courting tasks, and she rejected him. In reality, he despised her after that. According to my twisted tale, he pined after her like a romantic hero.

It turned out that Urzulah, just like her father, adored romantic tales.

Later that day, I asked Laya if she knew anyone who had access to Urgan’s rooms. She said she would ask around. I wanted just one thing from the room: the thin volume of romantic stories. I could use them to make the lies I was spinning for Urzulah more gripping, more attractive.

It turned out the room was left open, and Mina was the servant tasked with its cleaning. She came one late afternoon when Urzulah was out and pushed the book in my hand.

In the days that followed, I gave her details that Urgan supposedly told me after we had arrived in the capital. Using some of the flowery romantic language from my book, I painted him as an innocent, lovesick male, who could think only about her. I explained his public claiming of me as an act of jealousy.

“He heard rumors that you were intended for someone else. That’s why he claimed me – because he didn’t think he would have a chance with you.”

Urzulah fought hard for every little detail, bribing me with food which I shared with Nat and Laya, or threatening me. But she didn’t hit me again. She used me lightly, leaving me alone in her quarters for long stretches of time when she was partying.

And, when the Imperator’s guards came in one day to take me for questioning, she refused to give me away.

“She’s mine and she doesn’t know anything,” she sneered. “Tell my father that if he wants her, he can fight me for her himself.”

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