Page 15 of Promised To the Orc
My father has his morning meal at the crack of dawn. Occasionally one or more of his advisors will join him but most prefer to sleep longer. Hopeful that he’s alone so I can ask about last night’s urgent message, I enter the room and frown to find he’s not alone. The lighting is bad from this angle, and I can’t tell who he is with, but as I approach the table, there’s no mistaking that head of bright red hair.
Alta sits stiffly, the food on her plate untouched. She’s looking straight ahead while my father smacks and rips at his food. The back of my neck prickles to find her here. He must have sent for her at this hour, alone. But why?
She’s wearing the sword. My father must feel comfortable enough that she won’t use it to allow her to keep it at his table.
Don’t let him take me.A shiver goes down my spine as the sword’s words echo in my head.
“I have thought about it,” my father says in between bites of meat. “I have thought about the proposition, and I have one of my own.”
Alta looks at me, then at him.
Her hair is damp, as if she bathed recently. The sun is barely over the horizon. How early did she rise? Maybe, like me, she didn’t sleep at all. Was she thinking of me?
“Ah, there it is again.” Taking a drink, my father waves his fork between Alta and me. I don’t like the tone in his voice, as if he’s up to something wicked.
“There is what?”
“That look between the two of you. Did you take her to bed last night, Tor? Is that why your eyes shine when you look at her? She’s not broken, so you must have been a gentleman. I didn’t teach you that.”
Throwing his head back, he laughs and pounds the table with one meaty fist. Alta’s eyes drop to the table. Her chest rises and falls hard, a pink stain on her cheeks. My hand itches to wrap around his throat and slam his face into the table.
He used to taunt my mother like this, uttering inappropriate things about her in front of others. Criticizing her for not pleasing him. For only giving him one son.
Alta sits straight and looks down her nose at him. “What is your proposition?”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sits back in his chair.
“I’ll free the humans and make hunting them a crime, but you must do something more for me, female. I want orichalcum. All of it. But I also want you to make a good show of my generosity in joining humans and orcs–be the face of our new peaceful alliance.”
Her cheeks pale.
“Marry my son and you have my word orcs will never harm humans again.”
Chapter Six
Ibursttomyfeet.
“What kind of trickery is this?”
The king doesn’t mask the distaste on his face as he sweeps me with a disapproving gaze. “No trickery. It’s a simple proposition.”
“I don’t accept!”
He chuckles. “That’s a hasty decision. Are you sure you don’t want to think about it first? After all, human lives are at stake. How would your people feel if they knew you had one chance to make them truly free, but you didn’t take it?”
A lump forms at the base of my throat. I try to swallow it down, but it won’t budge. He’s trapped me, and he knows it. Was Tor in on this? I don’t dare look at him. If I see one hint of deception on his beautiful face, all crawl across this table and dig his eyes out myself.
“I came here offering you orichalcum. Not my body or my life.”
“That’s a shame, because there is no deal unless I get all of that.”
Pulling hard, fast breath through my nose, I shake my head as a wave of dizziness courses through me. It nearly drives me back into my chair, but I hold steady. I won’t show weakness in front of this man.
“What use am I to you, really? Marry your son? What could he possibly get out of this?”
“An attractive human to warm his bed and do his bidding. What does it matter what Tor gets out of anything? He does as I tell him.”
The sword begins to hum against my back. I’m never quite sure what it wants from me. Reaching behind me, I grab the tip of the scabbard and squeeze. The sword vibrates harder until my entire spine radiates with it. Does it want to be released from the scabbard? I can’t pull a sword in front of the king. It’s a threat I’m not ready to follow up on and, worse, he might take the sword from me.
