Page 19 of Her Orc Protector

Uldrek turned, his golden eyes finding mine immediately. "Lunch delivery," he said, lifting a small cloth sack. "You didn't eat enough yesterday."

My heart kicked once against my ribs—not from fear, but something else entirely. I told myself it was surprise at his appearance. The lie was unconvincing even to me.

"I ate," I protested weakly.

One corner of his mouth lifted. "Half a piece of bread and some cheese. While doing those side step drills I showed you."

Edwin's eyebrows rose slightly, but he did not comment. Instead, he gestured toward the front doors with his cane. "Perhaps you might take your midday meal on the steps? The weather's quite pleasant today."

I hesitated, uncertain how to explain Uldrek's presence. We hadn't discussed what to tell others about our arrangement, about the lie-turned-something-else that now bound us together.

But Edwin merely smiled, as if nothing about the situation was unusual. "Go on, then. The scrolls will still be here when you return."

Uldrek nodded to the archivist and turned toward the doors, clearly expecting me to follow.

I did, adjusting Ellie in her sling as we stepped out into the crisp autumn air.

The Archives stood at the edge of what I now knew was the Heart District, its stone facade weathered by centuries of Everwood's seasons. Wide steps led down to a small courtyard, where a handful of benches were arranged beneath towering oak trees. At midday, dappled sunlight bathed the area in a warmth that belied the approaching chill of late autumn.

Uldrek settled on the middle step, stretching his long legs in front of him. After a moment's hesitation, I sat beside him, leaving just enough space between us to maintain propriety—though what that meant between a human woman and her supposed orc mate, I couldn't say.

"Here." He handed me the cloth sack. "Wasn't sure what you liked."

I opened it curiously. Inside were several small bundles wrapped in leaves—the kind street vendors used for hand pies and portable meals. The scent that wafted up was rich and earthy, spiced but not overpowering.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Mushroom and root pastry. Greta at the corner stand makes them with black pepper and thyme. Good fuel."

I unwrapped one, still warm from the vendor's oven. The crust was golden and flaky, the filling a savory mixture of woodland mushrooms, carrots, and herbs. My stomach growled audibly at the scent.

"Thank you," I said, genuinely touched by the thoughtfulness. "But you didn't have to—"

"You're slow on pivots when you're hungry," he interrupted matter-of-factly. "And your left side drops. Food helps."

I took a bite of the pastry, savoring the complex flavors. It was delicious—far better than the quick meals I cobbled together during work breaks.

"You noticed all that?" I asked between bites.

Uldrek shrugged. "I pay attention."

"To fighting stances," I clarified.

"To everything," he replied, and there was something in his tone—not quite vulnerable, but honest in a way that made me look at him more closely.

He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, eyes scanning the courtyard in a habit I recognized as ingrained vigilance. The sun caught the edges of his profile, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw, the set of his tusks, the faint lines at the corner of his eye. Not quite a smile, but something adjacent to it.

Ellie chose that moment to stir, wiggling in her sling with increasing determination. She'd slept longer than usual, and now she was awake, hungry, and ready to make her presence known.

I set down the pastry reluctantly, preparing to excuse myself to find a more private place to feed her.

"Here," Uldrek said, casually extending his hands. "I'll hold her. You eat."

I stared at him, momentarily frozen by the offer. He didn't press, didn't insist. Just waited, hands open, watching me.

Slowly, I lifted Ellie from the sling. She was fussing in earnest now, her small face scrunched in preparation for a full cry. I passed her to Uldrek, our fingers brushing in the exchange.

His hands dwarfed her tiny form, yet he handled her with a sureness that surprised me. No hesitation, no awkwardness. He settled her against the crook of his arm, supporting her head with practiced ease, as if he'd done this a hundred times before.

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