Page 21 of His Orc Lady

“Good man,” our resident blacksmith says while he moves around the space, lifting a fresh batch of horseshoes from the cooling rack and shifting them to the shelf with all the other finished ones. “Knows a lot about swords. His isn’t as good as the ones I make, and he asked how much it would cost if he wanted to order one.”

I narrow my eyes at Morg—but he’s not bragging, just stating a fact. His swordsarethe best, and if the captain can afford one, it would be an honor for him to wear it.

Unfortunately, Morg can’t tell me which way Owen went when he departed his forge, so I take a chance and try the stables first, but he’s not there, and horses only huff softly at me when they realize I didn’t bring them any apples.

I’m on my way to the library to see if he’d ventured there when I hear voices from around the bend in the hallway. I don’t recognize the orc who’s speaking, yet the human man’s voice is immediately familiar—I’ve finally located Owen. But he’s talking to someone, and I don’t want to talk to him in front of company, not when I’m still in such a strange state of mind, half angry at him because he might send Carrow’s mate away, half wishing I didn’t have to speak to him at all.

So I tiptoe forward carefully and peer around the corner, trying to see who he’s talking to.

“Mara?”

A voice from behind me startles me so badly, I lose my balance and have to catch myself on the wall. My keys jangle on my waist at the sudden movement, and Owen’s voice goes quiet, as if he heard the noise and is listening for more.

“Hello?” he calls out. “Is someone there?”

I turn, eyes wide, searching for a way to escape without being seen and find Poppy and Steagor standing behind me. They’re both watching me, Poppy with concern, and Steagor with something akin to amusement.

Terrified now that Owen will appear from around the corner at any moment, I hurry forward, grasp Poppy by the hand, and rush her away while Steagor follows close behind. I find a linen closet nearby—one of the many nooks in this Hill that’s too small to be a proper room to anyone and has been converted to a storage space over the years.

I don’t dare speak until we’re all inside, the three of us squashed in the narrow space between the shelves and the door.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathe. “You startled me.”

Steagor hugs Poppy from behind and pulls her back, making more room for me. “And you thought hiding in a linen closet would solve the issue?”

I glower at him. He’s been Gorvor’s close friend for decades, so I’ve known him just as long—an honorary cousin of sorts.

“No,” I grumble. “I just didn’t want…”

Voices from the corridor filter through the door, and my ears twitch as I try to discern whether it’s Owen passing by. I send Poppy and Steagor a wild look, but for all Steagor’s teasing, he remains quiet until the people outside move farther away.

“Mara, are you all right?” Poppy asks, not unkindly.

She squints at me, and I realize she must not see me very well with just a sliver of lamplight filtering in from under the door.

“Aye,” I breathe. “I’m fine. I was only, ah, searching for one of the human soldiers.”

Poppy gasps. “You mean the captain?”

I back away from her on instinct, until I bump into the shelves with a clatter. “What?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Poppy lifts her hands to her face, clearly embarrassed. “But Dawn mentioned that he might be returning.”

My throat tightens at her admission. “You-youtalkedabout me? About this?”Gods, how embarrassing. “Does everyone know?”

“No!” Poppy rushes toward me, extricating herself from Steagor’s embrace. “She only mentioned it because I didn’t have the best rapport with the human guards so far, and she wanted to warn me so I didn’t get a fright seeing those men in the great hall over breakfast.”

Guilt descends, bitter and immediate. “Oh gods, Poppy, I didn’t even think of that!” I rush forward to wrap her in a hug, mindful of her baby belly.

How could I have forgotten that she’s been declared a thief and had to walk all the way from Ultrup to our lands? She’d been so afraid, and it had taken a lot of work on Steagor’s part to get her to trust that she was safe in the Hill.

“I’m so sorry. How are you doing?” I demand. “You’re not worrying too much, are you? It’s not good for the baby.”

“No, no, that’s all in the past.” She pats my back, then holds me out at arm’s length, and squints up into my face. “I’m more worried about you. What’s going on?”

“I…don’t know what to do,” I admit.

Steagor raises one dark eyebrow at me. “He’s your mate, isn’t he? The captain?”

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