Page 45 of His Orc Lady

So I hurry through my morning ritual of brushing and braiding my hair, then wash with cold water that has me cursing softly. I can’t believe I slept through breakfast. I must have been more tired than I knew, both from lack of sleep and from theexhausting talk I had with Owen last night. I’d hoped to speak with him and see if he could take some time for me.

But it seems that even confiding half of what I need to tell him has lessened the burden on me to the point that I was finally able to rest—and my body has taken full advantage.

I frown at my image in the looking glass, then try out the words I’ve been holding back. “You’re my mate, Owen.”

They sound…right. Strange but true.

Still, I don’t have the time to practice my confession, so I grab my shawl and satchel and run out the door to rejoin Vark.

“Do you know what’s going on?” I ask as we march down the corridor at a quick pace. “Who else has he called?”

Vark nods to a family of five passing us on their way from the great hall. “It has something to do with Ozork, only I’m not sure what. They’ve met this week to talk privately, but I think it’s all coming to a head today.”

“What is?” I question, curiosity spiking. If Ozork is involved, Lady Willow might be, too.

But Vark presses his lips together, frowning, and I realize he hasn’t been informed either—which must be jarring, given how close he is with both Gorvor and Ozork.

Before long, we arrive in the private hallway leading to the king’s chambers. We’ve kept it well-lit ever since Dawn arrived at the Hill, and it’s brightly illuminated now. Steagor is waiting at the door to the king’s private parlor, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Does anyone know what this is about?” he rumbles. “I don’t like leaving Poppy alone if it’s not necessary.”

I grin at him. “Where is she now?”

“Escorting Willow around the Hill because Ozork has urgent business with the king.” He frowns. “Which seems to beourbusiness, too.”

The door to the king’s rooms suddenly yawns open and reveals my scowling cousin. “If you lot are done grumbling and gossiping, I’d like to ask you to come in and help us with this.”

Vark saunters over the threshold first. “We’d love to, but we don’t know whatthisis.”

“Aye,” Steagor says. “You’ve been keeping things from us.”

I give Gorvor a quick hug, then close the door behind me. “My only complaint is that I haven’t had time to eat breakfast, but otherwise, I’m simply curious about why you need all of us here.”

Dawn appears from behind her mate’s back, motioning at me. “Here, we have some bread and hard-boiled eggs. I’ve been trying to get Arvel to eat eggs, but he’s not too happy about it. And there’s some tea, too. It should be hot enough, I think.”

I let out a sigh of relief and settle at Gorvor’s desk, across from his larger chair. I pour myself a cup of tea and snag an egg and a piece of bread, and suddenly, my morning is looking up. I’m still a little miffed I didn’t get to see Owen at the baths, but that’s my own fault for sleeping in so late.

“WhereisArvel?” I check under the desk for Dawn and Gorvor’s son.

Dawn lets out a shuddering sigh. “At school. He’s visited a couple of times, and he’s doing so well with the other children, but it’s hard to let him go every morning.”

Her eyes well with tears, and I grimace at Gorvor, already feeling guilty that I brought up the prince. I should have realized Dawn would be having a difficult time—every parent does when it’s time for their child to go to school, even if it’s for an hour or two a day at first.

Gorvor sweeps Dawn off her feet and settles in his big chair behind his desk with her in his lap.

She sniffles and dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief, then lets out a shuddering sigh. “I’ll be fine. It was easier when Ozorkand Willow took him there. We might have to do that in the future so I’m not the one carrying him through the door.”

“Whatever you wish.” Gorvor brushes his lips over her forehead. Then he turns to Vark and Steagor, who have stopped behind me. “Sit, please.”

The two warriors bring up chairs, and we end up in a loose half-circle, staring curiously at the king. He’s not wearing his crown today, and I think the choice is deliberate—he’s our friend and relative, first, and our king second. It’s always been this way, ever since we arrived at the Hill. If he needed personal counsel, he called us together, but usually, Ozork was here with us.

“Where’s Ozork, then?” Steagor asks, clearly sharing my thoughts.

Gorvor clears his throat. “He’s visiting Torren at the forge, which we’ll talk about later. But I called you here to tell you that Ozork came to me to ask for help, and I’ve decided to grant his wish—I only need your agreement.”

I lift my eyebrows. “Why ours? You usually put things to a vote for the entire clan if it’s an issue that concerns us all, or you decide on your own.”

Gorvor’s lips twitch up in a ghost of a smile. “True enough. But I believe this one concerns the three of you, specifically. Or it concerns you more than others.”

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