Page 16 of How To Woo A Warrior Orc

Ga’Rek and I come to a halt as I stare.

I love clothes.

I don’t get much opportunity to dress nicely. Most of my things are made with the utilitarian aspects of baking and work in mind. Thick linen skirts, like the red one I’m wearing now, cut in interesting patterns with serviceable blouses are my mainstay.

The midnight blue dress hanging from the top of the vendor’s opened cart, however, is a tulle and velvet confection straight out of my dreams. Silver thread sparkles in the lantern light, wound into constellations amongst the airy tulle.

I step closer, transfixed by it.

“Elven made, that one,” the vendor tells me. “Excellent taste.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a wrap-style too, wouldn’t take much work at all to fit it to your specific measurements. We could have it worked up for you in an hour at most.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s really impressive…” I shake my head no, my hand falling away from where I’ve reached for the stunning garment. “I don’t have anywhere to wear something like this, though. I’d buy it if I did,” I tell the seamstress.

Spun midnight—that’s what it looks like. Wearable night sky.

“Fabric like that doesn’t come around very often,” she says, and even though I know she’s trying to sell me the dress, there’s a kernel of truth in her words. “Elven-wrought fabric is rare.”

“I need some things,” Ga’Rek’s voice booms out.

He pulls me back towards him, his touch gentle, and I go willingly, loving the way he doesn’t seem to want to stop touching me, even though we’re in public now.

Possessive, but in a way I really like. Affectionate, not overbearing.

And he’s taken the shopkeeper’s focus off me and the beautiful dress. I heave a little sigh, relieved, because the people pleaser in me wants to purchase the dress. To be fair, so does the part of me that wishes I had the kind of life that dress would require… but I very much do not.

Another woman approaches as Ga’Rek rattles off what he needs to the family of tailors, and she stares up at the dress with the same wishfulness I feel so deep inside.

“I’m going to go wander around,” I tell Ga’Rek, because the thought of someone else buying that gorgeous garment makes me feel slightly sad.

He smiles down at me, and before I can process what’s happening, he drops a casual kiss on the top of my head. His tusks bump against my scalp, and I grin up at him, flustered and thrilled at the public display of affection.

“I’ll be at the stationery vendor,” I tell him, slightly breathless.

“I’ll find you,” he says, his eyes positively devouring. It’s the same look he gets before he tries one of my new recipes, and I have to say, it is not so bad to be looked at like that.

Not at all.

Whew. I try not to fan my face, and when I glance back over my shoulder at him, he’s watching me walk away.

I might put a little extra swing in my step as I continue on my way to the vendor I need.

“There you are,” Wren, one of my covenmates, appears in the crowd, waving a hand at me. Her long, wavy blonde hair is tied back in a pretty side braid, and her fox familiar darts between her legs as she steps towards me.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” she says.

“It’s been three days,” I say with a laugh.

“Exactly. Ages,” she agrees.

Fenn the fox stands up on his hind legs, and he makes his weird little fox noises as I scratch behind his ears.

“Where’s Velvet?” Wren asks.

“She was napping, so I left her behind the counter. Deer security,” I say with a dramatic sigh.

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