Page 3 of His Orc Lady

I think of finding Jasmine and telling her that she will no longer require supervision from now on. But it’s late, and she has probably retired for the evening with her two mates.

That ugly jealousy rears its head again. I remember how their courtship had played out. Morg and Torren had been completely smitten with Jasmine and fought over the privilege of spending time with her—and neither of them ever entertained the thought of leaving.

Then again, Jasmine didn’t run away from them like a coward.

I made a mess of things, and I’ll have to live with it for the rest of my life. My dreams, my hopes, all crumbled away the moment I realized that the shockingly wonderful scent belonged to a human man with duties that would forever keep him in the human kingdom.

I stack the receipts I checked on one pile for Jasmine and put the empty tea tray on a table by the door so I’ll take it to the kitchens tomorrow morning. Only crumbs remain from the slice of Earna’s cake I’d eaten while working. She said I’d been moping too much lately and tried to cheer me up the way she always did—by plying me with food.

The cake was delicious, studded with brandy-soaked raisins, but she’d also added anise seed to it, which ruined the experience somewhat. I’d been half tempted to take the jar of the offensive spice from her kitchen shelf and dash it into the fire so I wouldn’t have to smell it anymore. Or suffer the memories that came with it.

But I also didn’t want the kitchen staff to think I’ve lost my senses, so I’d taken the cake and ate it all, even though it left me fighting back tears in the privacy of my bedroom.

Once my room is neat as it can be, I lay out my nightgown and toe off my slippers. It’s late, and if I want to read some of the adventure story I’d borrowed from Violet in the library, I need to get ready for bed.

A loud knock at the door has me jerking up, my heart thudding against my ribs.

“Who is it?” I call.

A deep voice answers, “It’s Uram. Ozork needs you, Mara.”

I shove my feet into my slippers, then change my mind and choose a pair of boots instead.

“Just a moment,” I yell, tugging them on.

Then I grab my shawl—who knows where Ozork is—and swing open the door to find Uram waiting for me, leaning on the opposite wall. He doesn’t seem too perturbed, so some of the urgency leaches from me.

“This way.” He inclines his head down the corridor. “He’s taking a woman to the baths.”

I quicken my steps to follow his longer ones. “What?”

Uram sends me an amused look. “I don’t know much more than that. Darrin came running from the main gate into the hall, shouting for you, and I volunteered to get you from your rooms as he had to return to his post.”

At a crossroads where one signpost points to the baths and the other to the main hall, I tap his shoulder. “You don’t have to escort me all the way there. Rose will be waiting for you.”

His eyes light up at the suggestion. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I resist the urge to add that I’m not completely helpless, even though I’m not a warrior. “I do know my way around the Hill.”

He frowns at me and steps forward. “That’s not why I asked, Mara. I just thought…” He pauses as if trying to find the right words. “You’ve seemed so upset lately. I didn’t want you to…”

“I’m fine,” I interrupt, embarrassment burning hot in my belly. “You needn’t worry. Please, you can return to your dinner.”

How mortifying that even Uram, who’s never been a close friend of mine, has noticed the shift in my mood. We’ve always gotten along well, but he’s a warrior and a hunter, often away onscouting trips, so we haven’t spent much time together in recent years. I must have seemed truly miserable for him to bring it up.

He eyes me for a while longer, then nods and leaves me standing there, my hands clenched into fists. His words echo in my head, unwanted and unpleasant.

You’ve seemed so upset.

Have I really? I thought I’ve been hiding my thoughts so well, but I obviously failed.

“Damn it.”

I resist the urge to kick the earthen wall, knowing it’ll only cause me pain. Instead, I turn on my heels and take the opposite corridor, marching on toward the baths. Uram said Ozork needs my help. I could never refuse him—and besides, whatever is going on will serve as the perfect distraction.

The winding tunnels are mostly empty at this hour, when my clansmen are either gathered at a late dinner or have returned to their rooms already. I greet Neekar’s parents who wave at me, but I don’t stop to talk—I don’t think I could bear to answer any more questions about my recent mood.

The air around me gets warm and damp, and my shoulders drop a notch. The baths always have this effect on me, and it’s enough to just imagine how it feels to float in those pools to relax a little.

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