Her Orc Protector: Chapter 12

“This is unacceptable!”

The king’s deep voice booms through the largely empty hall, and I wince, clutching the clay mug of hot tea that Mara, the steward of the Hill, pressed into my hands.

“Darling, you’re scaring her,” murmurs Dawn, the human queen.

Her rounded belly is very large, her face flushed and her hair still damp from a recent bath. We arrived at the Hill in the evening, and though I asked Korr to whisk me away to his room in secret and deal with the royal introductions in the morning, he insisted we find the king tonight.

King Gorvor, a large orc several years older than Korr, seems to be in a mood. Whether it’s from us interrupting a quiet evening with his wife or from the news we brought is yet undetermined.

“Forgive me.” He bows slightly. “I did not mean to get riled up. But you, my dear, are one among many women who have come from the kingdom of Styria lately after being treated so abominably.”

I glance at Korr, who gives me a nod of encouragement.

“I think it’s the bad harvest, Your Majesty, and the harsh winter,” I venture. “People are hungry and cold, and they’re turning on each other.”

King Gorvor’s fierce scowl deepens. “Do not tell me the Duke of Ultrup’s coffers are so empty that he cannot help his own people.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that, sir,” I reply. “I’ve never even been to Ultrup.”

“Of course not.” Dawn reaches over the table to pat my hand. “I never traveled before coming here either. Not many people do.”

I manage a smile, wishing I could talk to her alone. Her husband is intimidating, but she seems wholly unafraid of him. Truth be told, the way he looks at her when she speaks has me thinking his growl is worse than his bite, but I don’t want to test that assumption.

“You must be tired,” Mara says as she returns from the kitchens. She passes Korr a cloth-covered basket. “I scrounged up some dinner for you. You can have it here or in your room.”

Korr nods his thanks and wraps his heavy arm around my shoulders. “Will you help Ivy find some clothes tomorrow?”

Mara smiles at me. “Of course. I’ll find you after breakfast. We can head to the baths together, too.”

“I’ll show her the baths,” Korr barks, his grip on me tightening. “She is my mate.”

I flush, embarrassed at his outburst, and elbow him in the side, but Mara just grins wider and pats Korr on the arm.

“Don’t worry,” she says softly. “I won’t try to take her away from you.” She pauses, then adds, “I’m happy you two found each other.”

The king gets to his feet. “It is lucky indeed. I will send someone to Ultrup with a message to the duke as soon as the snow melts. He needs to take action against this kind of petty prejudice before more people get hurt.” He nods to me, his expression serious. “We will get justice for you, Ivy.”

I don’t know what to say to that. The king has only just met me, and I’m not even a part of his clan, yet he’s making plans to help me.

“Thank you,” I manage finally, my voice hoarse. “That means a lot.”

Dawn gives me a quick hug before her mate whisks her off into a wide tunnel that leads from the hall we’re in. I didn’t have time to appreciate it before, but the cavern is immense, the ceiling tall and rounded, the floor made of hard-packed earth that’s been stamped down by generations of heavy orc feet. Long tables are set in neat rows, benches on both sides indicating that this is where the clan gathers for their meals—and celebrations, it seems.

Korr nudges me forward gently. “We’re going this way.”

I wave goodbye to Mara, who watches us go with a wistful expression in her eyes, and I wonder if she might have been sweet on Korr. The stab of jealousy is a surprise, especially since she was so nice to me just now. I don’t have the right to be territorial about him, especially not when she’s likely known him for years, if not all their lives. And I don’t want to start my life here in the Hill by resenting a woman who went out of her way to make me feel comfortable.

Swallowing my strange emotions, I follow Korr into another rounded underground hallway leading off the main hall. The woolen socks we tied to my feet this morning in place of shoes are loose and drag on the floor while Korr’s footsteps are nearly silent beside me. He keeps one hand on my back, guiding me, even though lanterns are hung at intervals, casting pools of yellow light on the walls. Our shadows dance around us as I try to remember the way—but we twist and turn deeper and deeper into the Hill, and I soon lose count of branches of the tunnel and the wooden doors we walk by.

“Here,” Korr says at last.

We’ve stopped in front of a door with an iron handle. He pulls a heavy iron key from a pouch on his belt and hands it to me. “I will have another made, but you should keep this one.”

The gesture is significant, and I stare at him for a long moment before turning back to the door. We will need to talk about all of this, but not tonight. I only want to eat something, then lie in a bed and sleep for hours. The corridors are warm, thanks to thermal springs the Hill is famous for, as Korr explained, and my body is inexplicably tired despite the fact that Korr was the one who did all the work today.

I slot the key into its hole and turn. Darkness greets us as I push the door open. For once, I think about using my gift to light the way, but it’s too dangerous. I cannot risk it, not after I’ve been kicked from my village because of it. I have a chance at a life here, a safe life, and I don’t want to ruin it on day one.

Korr curses softly and enters, then fumbles around, clattering with unseen objects until the sound of flint and steel lets me know he’s lighting a lantern. Moments later, a bright glow illuminates the space, and I step through into Korr’s home.

It’s bare.

That’s the first thought that comes to mind. There’s a bed on one side and a wooden chest on the other, but Korr hasn’t put out any personal objects. The pillows and blankets on the bed are well-made but could have belonged to anyone, and the privy niche—with running water—is covered by a gray tapestry that does nothing to liven up the place.

My heart pangs at the memory of my small house. I’d had a painting on the wall, one that my father bought for my mother as her wedding gift, and bunches of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. Over the years, I’d thrifted bright-colored pottery vases and bowls to liven up my space, and none of my tablecloths or pillowcases were white. Or gray.

I’d even painted my chickens’ tail feathers with beetroot dye to stop the other villagers from stealing them.

I’d lost all that, though, and I am not about to make Korr feel bad for not having as many knickknacks as I did.

He’s waiting by the door, which he’d closed and bolted after us, letting me take everything in.

“It’s not much,” he says quietly. “I told you, I don’t spend a lot of time here.”

“It’s very cozy,” I reply. “I like it.”

Korr dips his chin. “You can do whatever you want with it. I will give you money to buy things.”

I don’t say that the room could really use some color. All that can wait. Especially since my stomach rumbles loudly enough that Korr finally relaxes a little and gives me that lopsided smile of his. He sets the basket on the bed and pulls back the cloth, revealing several yeasted buns, a pot of blackberry jam, and some red apples.

We fall on the food like wolves, and it doesn’t take us long to demolish it completely. Then Korr lets me use the privy—I take the lantern with me—and I wash quickly with cold water, cringing as I tug Korr’s now slightly dirty tunic back over my head. But until Mara lends me a dress, this is all I have.

Returning to the room, I find Korr sitting on the edge of the bed, a flat parcel of cloth beside him.

“Mara stopped by,” he says. “She brought you this. She says it’s one of Poppy’s, and it’s your welcome gift to the Hill. You can stop by for more clothes tomorrow.”

“Who is Poppy?” I ask.

“Steagor’s mate,” Korr replies with a slight smile. “She’s small and has a lot of curly yellow hair and is a great seamstress for the ladies, from what I’ve heard.”

I lift my eyebrows at the description, but curiosity sparks in me. “What is it?”

He nudges the parcel toward me. “It’s, uh…” He palms the back of his head, a flush creeping over his cheeks. “You can look at it while I wash.”

He disappears behind the privy curtain, and I sit in his place, intrigued. I undo the string tying the cloth together and unravel…

“Oh!”

It’s a chemise, but I’ve never seen one like this before. The fabric it’s made of feels like the softest silk, but it’s somehow sturdy, too, and there are so many ribbons on it, I’m confused at first, trying to figure out how to put it on. Then I realize most of those are ornamental, placed strategically to enhance the shape of the garment, and only two thicker ties at the shoulders are needed to keep it from falling.

Peering at the tapestry, I quickly pull Korr’s tunic over my head, gather up the new chemise, and let it fall over me in a slither of silk. The ties are easy to manage, and I discover two narrow ribbons at the sides that allow me to cinch it in the waist. The lacy neckline plunges scandalously deep, but it’s so nice against my skin, I don’t even mind showing a little more cleavage than is normal.

A choked sound from behind me has me whipping around. Korr stands in the middle of the room. I hadn’t even heard him, but he fills the space with his presence, and his gaze burns into me with an intensity that has me stepping back on instinct.

“I-it’s a very nice gift,” I whisper.

I’m now certain Mara isn’t sweet on Korr. No woman in her right mind would gift her sweetheart’s new mate a chemise like this.

“Get in the bed,” he commands, his voice a low rumble.

I glance behind me, then face him again. “You don’t like it?”

“Ivy, you need to sleep,” he forces out through his teeth. “I know how tired you are. So if you want any rest at all tonight, you will get under those covers immediately.”

Realization dawning, I turn swiftly, dump the dirty tunic on the floor, and crawl under the blankets on Korr’s bed. He waits for me to settle, then joins me, muttering something about restraint and medals. I stifle a giggle with my palm, then wait to see what he’ll do.

I want him close, not because I’m cold this time but because I liked sleeping in his arms. Then it hits me that I could reach for him—I could take that first step and bridge the distance between us.

“Will you blow out the lantern?” I whisper, needing the cover of night for bravery.

Korr frowns at me, and for a long moment, I think he might refuse. But he reaches over and blows out the flame, leaving a tiny dot of the still-glowing wick in the all-encompassing darkness.

“Oh.” I blink, not that it does me any good. “I forgot we were underground.”

Korr sighs. “Aye.”

Even on the darkest of winter nights, at the new moon, my little house was never this black. I’d have the glowing coals in the fireplace, or the view of stars through my bedroom window.

But it doesn’t bother me here, with Korr. I reach out with my hand until I touch warm skin. Korr starts, then rolls toward me. His palm lands on my hip, and he draws me into his side. I go willingly, then kiss the hard plane of his chest.

“Are you all right?” he asks after a while.

My first thought is to give him a quick answer, to claim that everything is fine. But it’s dark, and he can’t see my face, so I find myself telling him the truth. “I miss my home. I know you said we can buy things, but it’s…” I trail off, trying to find the words. “I was born in that house. I thought I might die in it, too, and now I’ve got nothing left. Nothing of my parents…”

My voice hitches, and I swallow thickly so I don’t start blubbering all over Korr. His hand comes up to the back of my head, and he caresses me slowly, soothing my discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I would give you everything you had and more.”

I sniff. “I know. I’m glad it was you who found me.”

Korr shudders. “I don’t know what brought me there. I don’t usually set traps that close to the border with the human kingdom, and we don’t scout there as often in the winter.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “I could have missed you.”

I snuggle closer to him. “You said the fates know what they’re doing.”

Whether we call it fate or coincidence, we found each other, and I’m safe and warm in the arms of a good male. What more could I possibly want?

“Aye.” His voice rumbles in his chest. “I suppose they do.”