Page 39 of Agor

Courting usually led to dating. The dating then often ended in a wedding and a marriage.

Was that what he had in mind? Since he couldn’t have me as a sex slave, did he decide to have me as his wife instead?

I wasn’t sure if a marriage could even happen, considering that orcs and humans didn’t get along. But even if it was possible, my feelings on that weren’t clear at all.

On the one hand, the prospect of spending every night with him filled me with giddy effervescence. I loved everything about that idea from getting to bed together, to making love to each other until the two of us could no longer move a limb from exhaustion, to me falling asleep wrapped in his big, strong arms.

Spending nights with him would be wonderful.

But what about the days?

Agor was straightforward and persistent in his desire to claim me. But what did he expect from me if that happened?

If he wanted a housewife, I feared he’d be disappointed.

My mother used to train with weapons when she was younger. She trained with my father, until they fell in love, got married, and had me. After that, her days revolved exclusively around taking care of us, cleaning, cooking, and little else.

My mother seemed to be content with trading her swords for cooking pots and gardening tools. I feared that would make me miserable and frustrated.

The life of a housewife never appealed to me. I feared I wouldn’t be good at it even if I tried. I could trap, skin, and roast a rabbit from the valley to survive. But I couldn’t bake it into a finger-licking dish with herbs and spices like Faeena did. The only way I could properly handle a sewing needle would be if it was the size of a sword. I kept my wagon clean and tidy only because I liked order and detested dirt. But cleaning always made me feel like I was wasting my time when I could be doing anything else instead.

When I thought about it in detail like that, a marriage didn’t seem much different from what Agor wished to do to me before. Instead of being literally chained to his bed, I’d be figuratively chained to the kitchen and a washing basin, possibly just cleaning his weapons without a chance of ever using a sword again.

I knew I was getting way ahead of myself. But courting usually signified the start of a couple’s future. And I feared that a marriage, either to a human or an orc, wasn’t a suitable future for me.

I far preferred my position as the village guard, but that wasn’t a usual occupation for a woman in my settlement. Our men determined long ago that I wouldn’t make a suitable wife, which was fine by me. Now, I felt I should make that clear toAgor before he wasted any more time and effort on his courting presents.

It pained me to reject him. I liked him way too much already, dreaming about him day and night. But maybe the best thing was to stop it early, before any promises could be exchanged between us and hearts could be broken.

All these thoughts made me anxious. I had to explain it all to Agor, but just thinking about seeing him again sent a thrill of warm tingles through my chest.

Laying in my bed, I listened to every noise outside my door. Carefully, I slipped out from under the covers, trying not to make a sound, then tiptoed to the door and listened.

My heart thudded faster at the thought that the orc I longed to see might be right there, on the other side of this door, delivering another present for me.

A scurrying noise or something that sounded like scratching came from behind the door, and I swung it open. Sadly, no orc was there. Just two big baskets woven from the long cattail leaves sat on my porch.

My neighbors poked their heads out of their wagons already, clearly curious about more presents.

“What is it today, Becca?” Martha asked, jousting away her husband in the doorframe of their wagon.

Faeena hurried down the steps from her wagon too. “Do you need help?”

“I’m not sure yet.” I rubbed my arms through the thin sleeves of my nightshirt. I should’ve grabbed a shawl before rushing out into the chilly morning like that, but my curiosity was too strong to return for the shawl now.

I crouched by the baskets. The smell of smoked meat drifting from them made my mouth water so much, I risked drowning in my own saliva.

“Oh gods, is it really...?” I opened the lid of the first basket. It was filled with thick curls of smoked sausage, massive chunks of ham, and whole wheels of cheese. I tore a piece of sausage right away and stuffed it in my mouth. “Mmm, this is fucking divine,” I moaned around the mouthful.

“Ohhh.” Faeena sank into a crouch next to me. “Can I just smell it, please? I can’t remember the last time I smelled smoked meat. We ate the last piece we had still back in the valley.”

“Here, have some.” I took a long link of sausage and gave it to her, then another one to Gleb and one to Simon, who appeared suddenly as if out of nowhere, one to Martha, and one to Ilya and whoever else happened to be here.

Kazimir rushed to us down the front path, his long gray hair flowing in the cold morning breeze, his walking stick hitting the packed dirt with force.

“Stop it, you fools!” he yelled. “You’re heading straight to your untimely demise and damnation.”

“Oh well.” I shrugged. “As long as I can grab some of this sausage for the road.” I shoved a coil of sausage and the smallest wheel of cheese under my arm, then moved the basket toward Gleb. “Take it to the community hall and divide the rest between everyone fairly.”

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