Page 12 of His Orc Lady

That’s who I’m really thinking of, it’s no use lying to myself. He’s a soldier with a duty to serve his country, and losing that would be…

I couldn’t ask it of him, that much I know. Just as I couldn’t leave here, even if he offered to take me with him.

Quietly, so as not to alert anyone to my presence, I pick up my cup and plate and carry them to the kitchen so the orcs on duty won’t have to clean up after me. Then I slip from the great hall through a small corridor, one leading away from the guest quarters, so there’s less of a chance I’ll run into Owen.

I spend the morning in the cellars, between casks of ale, bushels of firm, red apples, stacks of pumpkins, and sacks of grain. There are racks of bottled mead, wheels of aged cheese on the shelves, salted fish in barrels, and cured sausages hanging from the rafters. Our cold rooms are filled with slabs of beautiful meat resting on ice, ready to be thawed and cooked. It’s all there, enough food to last us through the winter and more. Hunterswill still go out every day to supplement our diet with snow hares and partridges, as well as the occasional deer, but even if the weather worsened to the point where it could be dangerous for them to venture out, we still wouldn’t starve.

There’s no reason for me to be down here. Jasmine and I have been through our larders already, and we noted all the items on the shelves, counting and sorting until we were certain that nothing was amiss. We prepared a thorough report and presented it to our king, who praised our readiness and gave me a relieved grin when I mentioned that we were heading toward a peaceful, abundant winter season.

I know exactly why I’m hiding in the cellars. If I go upstairs and join the rest of the clan, I’ll either run into Owen or one of my friends. Seeing Owen would push me farther on the path of ruin because I won’t be able to resist his pull, and my friends would ask uncomfortable questions I have no wish to answer.

By now, everyone must know that the king has received a visit from the Duke of Ultrup’s ambassador. Orcs may be a warrior race, but we’re also nosy, and news spreads fast in the Hill. There’s no hiding the human soldiers who stand out wherever they go. And as soon as they see the captain and me together, they’ll realize that I’ve met my mate. No one will understand why I’m not throwing myself at him, allowing him to court me—or simply dragging him into my room and spending the next few weeks making passionate love to the one person I’ve been waiting for my entire life.

Aye, there’s no better place for me than this cellar right now.

That’s where Jasmine finds me, sitting on an upturned apple crate, reading a book I’d brought with me for this exact purpose. Well, I didn’t know I’d end up here—I’d imagined myself ensconced in a nice nook in the library, perhaps, or my own rooms, but people know I spend my time there, so they’d find me easily with their prying questions and curious eyes.

“Mara?” Jasmine stops in front of me, hands on her hips, her pretty face illuminated by the flickering light of my lantern. “What on earth are you doing here?”

I lift my book in explanation. “It’s a riveting story. I must have lost track of time.”

She squints at the cover. “The Ordinary Travels of Markos the Third? Isn’t this the book Violet wanted to chuck into the fire because it was so awfully boring?”

Damn, so it was. I haven’t really been reading, I suppose, more staring at the page. I brought this book from the library because Marut had shoved it onto my pile of books to save it from Violet’s wrath, and haven’t had time to read much at all. I did try to follow the story today, but the author—Markos the Third—had a horrible tendency to describe every minute detail of his attire and the food he consumed on his journey, so I haven’t gotten very far.

“I-I think the author is misunderstood.” I lift my chin in defiance, hoping Jasmine won’t challenge my claim. “Did you need me?”

She crouches in front of me, her pretty face upturned. “Not really. But there’s been…commotion in the Hill, and you’re always the one who knows what’s going on, and I didn’t want to bother Morg or Torren in the forge today. They were already late for work as it is.”

She flushes at this, and I can imagine quite clearly why her two handsome mates were preoccupied this morning.

“Anyway,” she continues, “I searched for you in all the usual places, then got worried when I couldn’t find you anywhere. And here you are.”

“Here I am,” I murmur. Iknewsomeone would be searching for me. It’s just my luck that Jasmine isn’t one to give up. “What kind of commotion did you see?”

“Well, nothing hashappenedyet,” she muses. “But there’s tension in the clan. It’s the soldiers who arrived with the duke’s ambassador.”

At this, I straighten, the book forgotten by my side. “Are they causing trouble?”

“No, nothing like that,” she says quickly. “You know King Gorvor wouldn’t stand for it. But the ambassador went to meet the king today with Ozork and a captain of her guard while the rest of the men huddled in the great hall, and it all seemed… Ah, maybe I’m just imagining things, but they seemedtense.”

I stand, dusting off the skirt of my dress. “I would be, too, if I was a human in an orc palace.”The words slip off my tongue, and I freeze, staring down at Jasmine. “I-I didn’t think…”

She straightens, a small smile curling her lips. “That’s exactly why I came to see you. When I first arrived, Ididfeel awkward and strange, being one of the very few humans around here. But Ritta and Sarrai were so kind to me, as were you. I just thought—what if we did something to make them feel more comfortable here? I know some of the orcs have wanted to at least have a sniff at the visitors. You know, to see if any of them are their mates. But they’re worried the soldiers might be too wary of orcs to allow it.”

Gods, I’ve been selfish. The meeting with Owen has shaken me up so badly, I forgot about my duty to my clan and failed at the most basic rules of hospitality.

“Of course.” I give Jasmine a quick hug to show her I’m not upset by her arrival. “You’re right, and I should have done something already. Come, let’s walk and figure it out.”

We find the group of a dozen or so soldiers huddled at one of the long tables in the great hall, playing cards and snacking on the remains of a breakfast spread. We’d recruited some help along the way, a pair of warriors in training, Darrin and Lorm, to escort the humans around the Hill. I let Jasmine do the talking,assuming they’ll be more comfortable with her, and I’m right—the men stare at her, transfixed, until she mentions that some of my kin might try to get a whiff of them in the corridors.

At that, one of the soldiers sneers in disgust. “I don’t want anyone smelling me. That’s barbaric.”

Another soldier, who has been steadily making his way through a pile of buttered scones, slaps him lightly on the chest. “Come off it, Ruben. It’s just the way they meet each other.”

“That’s right,” Jasmine cuts in, her smile more strained than before. “That’s how I met my mates.”

“What?” scoffs Ruben, his expression no less hostile than before. “You mean more than one? How does that work, then?”

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