Page 55 of The Orc's Thief
I try to imagine him as a lanky youth, tall but thin, without the heavy muscles that now grace his body.
“I remember how much boys that age can eat,” I quip. “My brothers used to get in trouble for stealing from the kitchens all the time.”
Arlon glances sideways at me. “You have brothers? How many?”
“Two.” I shove down the familiar pain. It’s duller now than it used to be, but missing my siblings still stings. “One older, one younger. And a sister, two years my senior.”
He watches me intently, and for once, I don’t mind it.
“When I left my family home…” I pause, trying to think of a way to explain my past decisions. “I was young and very foolish, and my parents tried to warn me of what would happen. I didn’t listen, and as a result, I brought shame to my family. It affected everyone, but most of all my sister, who almost lost a very advantageous marriage opportunity because of me.”
Arlon frowns. “What did you do?”
My face burns with shame at the memories, but it’s best to get this out in the open. “I fell in love with a man my parents didn’t approve of. I thought he loved me, too, so we ran away together. But he grew tired of me, and I was left with nothing. When I returned home, I wasn’t welcome anymore.” I rush through it, my voice flat. “It all happened such a long time ago.”
Beside me, Arlon keeps his gaze on the winding road, jaw clenched so tightly, a muscle ticks in his cheek. He says nothing.
My stomach sinks. Doubts I thought I’d buried rise again. Maybe he expected a virgin mate? One untouched by past mistakes.
I remember the last time I saw my parents. My mother’s voice had been high and tight with panic. Ruined, she called me. No decent man would ever want me again. The best thing I could do for my family was to leave and never come back. It was betterfor them to pretend I’d died. At least then, my unacceptable behavior wouldn’t cast a shadow on my sister. She had a bright future ahead of her as the wife to a rich merchant, a friend of our father’s.
In the years since, I learned that not everyone thought that way. Lindie had a hand in it, of course. She taught me that women get to experience pleasure, too. She never allowed a man to tie her down and was quite happy being single and occasionally entertaining a gentleman caller, as she put it.
I’ve had a few lovers since, but I was very careful to keep the fact to myself. They weren’t any more interested in having a public relationship than I was, which worked out for all the interested parties. I could keep my intimate life private, and no one judged me for it.
“I’ve spent years living in the human lands,” Arlon murmurs, “and some of your customs still surprise me.”
I cock my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
He motions at me. “You lost your family because you took a lover. That’s horrible. They should be ashamed of themselves.”
“What?” I gape at him.
“They banished their child for what is a normal experience,” he growls.
Is he…angry on my behalf? Lindie was angry, too, when I explained to her what I was doing in Ultrup in the first place. I’d left Redport and tried my luck at surviving in some of the smaller towns surrounding my home city, but the danger of being recognized by an acquaintance was too great, and besides, I didn’t have any significant skills to make a living. I’d been a daughter of an important house, after all, and spoiled as such.
Being on the streets on my own had been a rude awakening. When I arrived in Ultrup, the Matron offered me a place to sleep in the temple, and I stayed there for a while, until I learned enough to survive on my own.
My throat feels suddenly tight. I told Arlon my secret shame, and he’s showing no signs of leaving. If my thieving wasn’t enough to send him running, I thought for sure this would be the thing to do it. But he simply rides beside me and glowers into the distance, as if brooding over my parents’ decisions.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Hey, maybe it was all for the best. If they hadn’t thrown me out, we might never have met. I’d be married and a mother to a brood of children by now if my parents had their say.”
Arlon turns his head toward me sharply. “Is that what you want, too?”
I want to deny it, but it wouldn’t be the whole truth. “I thought I did. It was expected of me, and when I ran away with Hugo, it was with the expectation that we’d be having a family, yes. But now…” I shake my head, discomfort curling in my belly. “I just don’t know. I’ve been on my own for so long, I’ve let go of the idea for the most part.”
He hums in understanding. “You don’t have to be on your own anymore.”
Before I can respond to that declaration or think too hard about what it means for my future, we enter the village. It’s a modest cluster of houses built from stone and wood, their roofs thatched with straw. I study the low buildings with interest. I’ve never seen anything like them.
In Redport, most homes had clay tile roofs, and Ultrup was the same, though I occasionally ran into shingled ones. Those were the worst—rough wooden surfaces that scraped my palms and left splinters lodged under my skin after too many scrambles over steep slopes.
But these? I eye the straw rooftops with a mix of curiosity and doubt. Would they hold my weight? Or would I crash right through? The spacing is strange as well. The houses are set too far apart for a clean jump from one to the next.
No, this village doesn’t appeal to me at all.
“You all right?”
