Page 69 of His Orc Lady

What if Owen changed his mind?

I give myself a firm mental slap and lift my chin resolutely. He didn’t—he would never. I’ve never met a man so loyal and faithful as him, and I know he’s waiting for me. I can almost feel us getting closer, our bond pulling us together.

I lose track of all the twists in the corridors for once, and suddenly, we’re there, the entrance hall opening before us. Dawn and Jasmine have outdone themselves, decorating the hall with greenery and wildflowers to create a beautiful setting for the wedding. I was banned from this part of the palace for the past couple of days, and now I look around curiously to find that Gorvor must have allowed them to remove both wings of the front gate for the ceremony to create an open space with sunlight streaming in.

The moment Wren steps out of the hallway, a sweet melody fills the air.I glance up, searching for the source of the sound, and find Ozork standing to the side, his fiddle tucked under his chin, his fingers dancing deftly on the strings. My chest swells with emotion—he’s here, supporting me, just as I was there for him. One by one, I notice the other clan members standing up to meet my companions and me. There’s Vark, his gaze flitting between Wren, Hazel, and me, Steagor with baby Juniper strapped to his chest, Neekar, grinning broadly, Violetand Marut, both looking tired but happy, and Taris, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Korr pulls Ivy to his side and wraps his arms around her, beaming at me. Jasmine takes her place between her mates, Morg and Torren, and gives me a little nod of encouragement.

Standing right at the gate is Gorvor, resplendent in a new tunic, embroidered with golden thread, his iron crown resting on his head. He grins at me, then motions at someone hidden behind the crowd.

Owen moves into view, and my breath stalls in my throat. He stares right at me, his eyes widening, and then he beams, looking so happy. He steps toward me, past Wren, who has upturned her basket to shake out the last of the petals. He offers me his hand, and I take it—and the moment our fingers touch, all doubt and anxiety evaporate from me.

“Hello, my lady,” he murmurs, barely loud enough for me to hear. “You look stunning.”

“So do you,” I whisper.

Poppy sewed a new jacket for him, made of forest-green linen to echo my skin and match the periwinkle of my dress. His hair, freshly washed, has been braided at the sides, accentuating his sharp cheekbones, but otherwise hangs to his shoulders, golden and silky.And his eyes—they’re as blue as the summer sky, just like I imagined all those months ago.

Then Carrow and Willow are there, our witnesses, to stand with us in front of our king. Now that I’m with Owen, I relax enough to notice more guests in the crowd—all the clan members, crowding both in the entrance hall and outside, and Owen’s family, who arrived a week ago from Ultrup. His oldest sister couldn’t make it because she’d just had her second baby, but all the rest of his family members are there—his parents, his younger brother, and younger sisters, all of whom have been theobject of much interest and speculation among the younger orcs of the clan.

Owen’s mother beams at me from the front row, her arm looped around her husband’s. We’ve talked several times over the past days. I’d been afraid that she would resent me because her son has moved so far away from the human lands, but she seemed genuinely happy for us and interested to learn all about our life in the mountains.

Owen squeezes my hand gently, and we both turn to face Gorvor. Carrow steps up beside me, squeezes me in a tight hug, then takes my bouquet from me. He’s been happily living with Ian ever since they first met each other. Ian had to return to Ultrup this spring, same as Owen, but they both came back free men, and have been employed by the clan ever since.

It’s been a strange time for our clan, with lots of traveling back and forth, especially for Willow and Ozork’s new initiative to help the Duke of Ultrup hunt and remove all the remaining slave traders in his lands. Though I haven’t braved the world outside of our kingdom yet, I hope to accompany Owen someday when he visits his family.

“Dear guests,” Gorvor begins, his deep voice booming out over the crowd. “Thank you for joining us here today as we celebrate the marriage of Owen Hawke and my dearest cousin, Mara, Norriah’s daughter.”

I grin at him, happiness bubbling up in my chest. We’ve come so far since our unhappy childhood in the old kingdom, and I’m so proud that it’s him officiating the ceremony to marry me to the love of my life.

Owen and I raise our hands, and Gorvor ties them together with a piece of red silk ribbon, a wedding slightly more elaborate than we’d had for Willow and Ozork. It was Willow who educated Gorvor on the practices used in human ceremoniesafter he’d worried that he might not have done a good enough job with her and Ozork’s wedding.

“When we moved from the old kingdom and claimed these mountains as our home,” Gorvor says, “I never thought we would see our clan flourish so well. We’d been focused on survival, pure and simple, on building up our defenses and making sure our people were safe and fed through the seasons. But it has been such a privilege to see us bloom far past that initial goal.”

He glances to the side, where Dawn is standing with Arvel in her arms. His gaze flits this way and that, combing the crowd.

When he speaks next, his voice is thicker than before. “You all made sacrifices to help me create this clan, and few have given so much as my cousin Mara.” He faces me again, lifts his chin, and adds, “I told you once that you’ve helped make this palace a home, and I stand by that. It gives me great pleasure to know that you’ve found happiness of your own, a mate who challenges you and protects you at the same time.”

My eyes well with tears, and I blink quickly, not wanting to blubber at my wedding. Instead, I beam at him, my heart brimming with love. “Thank you.”

Then Gorvor turns to Owen. “I have watched you closely over the past months, Owen, son of Louie, and I have determined you are as honorable and true as my cousin claims. It is a privilege to welcome you into my family, just as I have welcomed you into my clan.”

Owen lifts his chin, his cheeks pink. “Thank you, my lord.”

My cousin lowers his voice and says, “You’ll have to start calling me Gorvor now, or my Dawn will make endless fun of me, you know.”

Owen’s smile is quick and somewhat relieved. “All right, I’ll see what I can do.”

“We’ve gathered here today to celebrate these two people who have found each other against all odds,” Gorvor booms again, facing the clan. “I don’t want to keep you too long because I know our wonderful cooks have prepared a feast that will be remembered for years to come. Mara, Owen, your growing happiness has been a joy to watch. This wedding is a beautiful confirmation of what you two already know—that you are made for each other. My hope is that you will live a happy, abundant life, and I’m very glad that you chose our clan as your home.”

“Thank you for welcoming us here.” Owen squeezes my hand and looks down at me. “I never thought this was what my life would be like, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. The moment I saw you drop that platter of food, I had to know you—but you’re so much more than I’d hoped for. I love you, Mara, and I’m so happy to be your husband.”

My tears spill over, so I swipe my free hand over my cheeks quickly, then beam up at him. “I love you, Owen, and I’m sorry it took me a while to admit it. I’ve told you I love you every day for months, and I will continue to do so for however many decades we’ll have together.”

“Oh, gods.” Gorvor clears his throat, a little choked. “I had a longer speech prepared, but you two said it all. So I propose that you seal this thing with a kiss.”

Before he even finishes speaking, Owen tugs me closer, and I lift my chin, meeting him halfway. His lips press against mine, and we’re both smiling as the crowd around us erupts into cheers, but I close my eyes and sink all my love and affection into the kiss. The whoops and whistles fade away. Owen brings his palm up to cup my cheek, and for a moment, it’s just us, alone, together.

When he lifts his head, his blue eyes are wide, his lips parted, and by the way his gaze darts to the side, I know he’s experiencing the same surprise that we’re in fact still in acrowded hall, surrounded by the entire clan and his relatives. His smile is slow, but grows to a beautiful grin, and mine matches it exactly.

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