Page 48 of His Orc Lady

My cousin sends his mate a grateful look, then continues, “Vark, you’ve fought beside me and took a knife to protect my queen. Steagor, you’ve guarded me through thick and thin and offered me your wisdom whenever I needed it.” He pauses, then faces me. “And Mara, you’ve made our Hill ahome, you’ve taken care of all my people when I was too busy elsewhere and allowed me to spend time with my son.”

Dawn looks at me, too, her eyes shiny with tears. “And you’ve been a friendto me, to Poppy and Hazel, and everyone else who needed it. You’ve made me feel welcome here from the first day I arrived.”

“That’s…” I swallow, my throat too tight, then try again. “I’m glad I helped.”

“You did more than that,” Gorvor declares. “And you deserve happiness. But that’s something you will have to figure out on your own, as you said. What I’m proposing is that you three should receive titles, too.”

A beat of silence follows Gorvor’s words. Steagor glances at me, eyebrows raised, and Vark clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

I, for one, am already shaking my head. “I don’t need a title. That’s not… I mean, I’m honored, don’t get me wrong, but I’d rather not.”

I don’t know what having a title would entail, but I don’t want my life to change. I’m perfectly happy being the steward of the Hill and receiving a salary that allows me all the comforts I need.

Gorvor frowns at me. “In the old kingdom, we had nobility. Your father was the king’s brother. You could claim the same position…”

“In the old kingdom, that same nobility nearly ran the clan into the ground,” Steagor rumbles. “In case you don’t remember. I support Ozork’s claim wholeheartedly, Gorvor, but what good would it do to put us over other members of the clan just because we did our duty?”

“You did so much more than that.” Gorvor stands and paces away from the desk, as Vark did earlier. “Now that Ozork has come to me with this plea… I’ve realized I haven’t been showing you how much I appreciate you all. And to learn that I’ve been so inattentive as to miss your issues, Mara…” He hangs his head, his hands at his waist.

Dawn stares up at him, her expression unhappy, but she doesn’t say anything. Perhaps she knows that this is an old wound for Gorvor—but it might be one we can all help heal.

“You’re mad if you think we are wanting for anything,” Vark explodes. He gestures at Gorvor, his booming voice rising. “You think we’d rather have our titles than a peaceful life? I only found my mate because you value prosperity and trading more than warfare. If I wanted to be a duke, I would have stayed with King Trak, but then I’d likely bedead, wouldn’t I?”

Steagor nods, his expression stormy. “Think of what you’re saying, Gorvor. Do you truly believe we’re unhappy?”

The king looks from one to the other, locking eyes with us all. Finally, he heaves a big sigh. “I don’t. That doesn’t mean I don’t question my decisions, especially when things are changing as rapidly as they seem to be lately. So many visitors, so many new couples.”

“And babies,” Dawn chimes in. “One has a tendency to reevaluate one’s life when children come into play.”

I stare at her, struck by the idea of having a babywith Owen. Would he even want one? Right now or after a couple of years? I’d completely forgotten, but I’ll have to visit Taris for her special tea if things between Owen and me are to progress.

“Aye, that’s true enough,” Vark agrees. “I would much rather see Wren growing up happythan a duchess. Like Steagor, I support Ozork’s idea fully because it will allow him and Willow to find justice, but I don’t need a title. Only the promise that you’ll continue leading this clan as you have in the decade since we left the old kingdom.”

Gorvor clears his throat, his eyes bright with emotion. “Aye, you have that promise. I vow to keep this clan safe.”

“That’s settled, then.” I close my hands around my mug of tea and take a fortifying sip. “I’m happy for Ozork. I hope Willow will be, too.”

“Oh, I bet she will.” Dawn pulls her hand away from Gorvor’s and flips open the ledger. “Now, we have a party to plan.”

Chapter

Thirteen

Dawn and I hunker down at Gorvor’s desk to plan a dinner party for Ozork and a small number of invitees. Anyone who’s close to him will want to come, so we send Vark out with a stack of quickly penned invitations, all warning the guests not to mention anything to Willow. Ozork stops by, his expression tense, until I hug him tight and congratulate him. He visibly relaxes after that and offers to venture out into the forest for some holly and pine boughs for decoration.

We send Steagor off to the kitchens with a note from me, requesting a special feast to be sent here—a rare enough occurrence that I know the kitchen staff won’t mind. When he returns, bringing a reply from Earna, I grin at the head cook’s words.

“She says it’s been too long since she had an opportunity to cook up a feast.” I look up from the letter, glancing at Dawn. “Apparently, she has already forgotten about the harvest festival. I should remind her that the winter solstice is coming up. But she says that Korr and Ritta brought in several grouse she’ll slow-bake for us, as well as a slab of boar roast she’s been wanting to use up from the larders.”

“Mm.” Dawn snags an apple from the mostly empty breakfast platter. “We should plan dinner parties more often.”

One by one, the replies from the invitees trickle in, and I collect them on Gorvor’s desk. It’s shaping up to be a lovely, intimate event, and I’m so glad Ozork will get the recognition he deserves. I only hope Willow will appreciate everything he’s doing for her.

A knock at the door has us looking up, and Dawn calls out, “Enter!”

The door opens a fraction, and Owen’s head pokes inside. I know it’s him immediately, recognizing his blond hair first, before his delicious scent wafts to me.

I’m up and rushing toward him before I even register my decision to do so. “Hello.”

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