Page 6 of Obeying the Orc
A growl rumbled from my throat. Of course she would be hoping to land a husband soon. Gods be damned.
What was I doing, then?
I glanced up and realized I’d walked all the way to the bridge. I stared at the sky and for the briefest instant, thought about praying for guidance. Dhomyss emerged from behind a cloud to soar toward the mountains I called home, the creature’s great wings beating in the air. After the island’s resident dragon disappeared over the horizon, I lowered my eyes to the dirt road, turned, and headed back into town.
I was just as lost to my old self as I’d been during the days immediately after Emalise’s death, wasn’t I? I hadn’t spoken to the gods then and I wasn’t about to start now. Even if I should perhaps thank the gods that the dragon who called this wild island home was an unusually peaceable one. As far as I knew, his body count was zero, though he occasionally snatched livestock from the fields. Surely that deserved a prayer or two of thanks.
The temple and rectory loomed to my right as I headed further into town. I gave both buildings a wide berth but couldn’t help glancing over as I passed by. Durable structures, both fabricated of white stone. Five immensely tall spires stretched to the sky from the temple, and from my previous trips to town, I remembered that sometimes the spires disappeared into the clouds. It was a feat of architecture, especially for a town as small and remote as Faircross. Still, I wanted nothing to do with it.
When would the townspeople and the mayor stop asking me to take up orating again? I wished I would wake up one day to find all my anger gone, to find my heart was no longer encased in stone. But it had been two years since Emalise and our son’s death. Two years and still I couldn’t move on.
Would I ever know the peacefulness of prayer again? What about the satisfaction of orating to an eager flock? Or the fulfillment of leading a blessing ceremony to mark the change of the seasons?
Would I continue to drift further from the male I once was?
Why in the gods had I made plans to meet with a female?
What had I been thinking?
Just as I wasn’t fit to orate in a temple, I wasn’t fit to embark on a relationship with a female. Perhaps I shouldn’t show up. Perhaps that would be kinder than giving Natalee false hope.
Shaking the dark thoughts away, I headed toward the piano music that had just started up. In my moment of confusion, I didn’t know where else to go.
I hoped The Sweet Siren had decent wine.
CHAPTER3
NATALEE
I saton the large blanket I’d spread out beside the riverbank, my nervousness growing with each passing second. It was ten minutes until noon, and I tried to quiet my worries that Knot might not show, but it was no use. I couldn’t calm my nerves or quiet my fears about the handsome orc (and former priest) I was supposed to have lunch with today.
Perhaps he’d decided to leave town earlier than planned. Perhaps he was already back at his cabin in the mountains. I glanced toward the mountains in question and caught sight of the mighty dragon Dhomlyss soaring from peak to peak.
A light breeze ruffled my hair, and I tucked a few errant locks behind my ears, unable to cease fidgeting. Why hadn’t I fashioned my hair in a neat bun? Why had I left it halfway down? In the Northern Isles, such a style would be considered scandalous. Drat. Maybe I ought to have worn a bonnet or a scarf over my hair.
I smoothed the wrinkles from my skirt as I continued fretting over my appearance. I very much wanted Knot to find me pleasing. Of all the males I had been introduced to recently, I liked him the best.
Never mind that we hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to one another.
I considered why I liked him best and couldn’t help but smile as I recalled our brief interaction in the mercantile. He had kind, dark eyes and hair as black as the night, and his skin was the usual dark green shade of an orc.
Though he was part orc, part fae, and part human, aside from his lack of tusks, he looked more orc than anything else. He was also tall and striking, with a broad chest and shoulders, and he spoke in a manner more civilized than most of the males I’d met here. He also hadn’t leered at me inappropriately.
Several miners I’d met recently gave me the same horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach as Mr. Foxthorne often did. But not Mr. Thazurok.
I looked at the covered basket on the blanket beside me. I’d prepared ham sandwiches and sweet cakes for our picnic. The sweet cakes were a recipe Nanny Tess had taught me. Even though my mother had forbidden me from learning how to cook—according to her, cooking was for the lower classes and for servants—my nanny had secretly taught me the basics of cooking and other household tasks when my parents were away traveling.
Dear gods, how I missed Nanny Tess. I blinked back tears and tried my best not to think of the Northern Isles and the good and bad parts of my past that lurked in the back of my mind.
Sometimes I hated myself for having married Logan. Because maybe if we hadn’t gotten married, he would still be alive, and I would still be in decent standing with my family. I had a difficult relationship with my parents, sure, but I adored my sisters and wished I could visit them. Nanny Tess, too. Oh, if only I could visit her. She would give me a hug and offer words of comfort and wisdom. If only.
A tall figure approached, distracting me from my thoughts, and I squinted to make out the male’s features. I quickly recognized the same hat Knot had worn yesterday, as well as the impressive width of his shoulders.
My heart skipped a beat. He’d shown up.
He’d shown up!
I jumped to my feet, then felt incredibly silly for the rapid movement. My mother would have berated me for such unladylike exuberance. Still, I smiled at the male as he approached. My heart skipped another beat when he returned my smile and the lines around his dark, gorgeous eyes crinkled.
