Her Orc Protector: Chapter 21

I stare at my mate, hopelessness taking over. “Korr?” I whisper. “You know I’m not— You know I didn’t…”

He curls his fingers around mine and finally looks up at me. “Aye. I know. I told the king as much. But I’m your mate. I’d do anything to help you. So my word isn’t worth much today.”

I straighten my shoulders, outrage replacing some of my fear. “What?” I face the king again. “You don’t trust him? What has he ever done to deserve this?”

The king sits back, looking a little startled at my outburst. “He hasn’t done anything. Until the moment he attacked his brother.”

I squint at Marut, who is still standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. I can’t see his face with how he’s looking at the floor, but perhaps there’s a faint shadow of a bruise marring his face?

Good.

I’m surprised by my vicious reaction, but I’m glad Korr finally punched him. At least I assume that’s how he split open his knuckles.

“Marut only came to inform me where he’d found you,” the king continues, as if this explains everything. “You were the one who was wandering around where you shouldn’t have been. For the second time since you arrived at the Hill.”

So it was the same corridor where I’d first met Marut and Neekar. The king is misinformed, though, so I need to set things straight. I glower at him, letting myself feel all the anger I can muster. It sharpens my thoughts and cuts through the fog of panic that has been wrapped around me.

“First of all,” I force through gritted teeth, “did Marut inform you that I’d been yelling for help for a while before I stumbled onto that corridor? I was trying to return to the great hall. If he heard or saw me walking toward the grate, he must have heard me cry out. So why didn’t he answer?”

The king opens his mouth to reply, his forehead furrowed, but I roll right past him, adding, “And if there are forbidden corridors in the Hill, why wasn’t I informed? How am I supposed to know that finding one stupid iron fence would get me thrown in jail? If I knew that, you can believe me, I would have stayed far away.”

Korr squeezes my fingers gently, and I shut my mouth, aware I’d raised my voice to the king. But I’m so mad, so very mad at these orcs who have set up rules that everyone should follow, apparently, yet failed to inform me of them.

Breathing heavily, I lapse into silence, but I keep staring at the king, who, to his credit, seems lost deep in thought, debating the issue.

“You don’t know what’s in the corridor?” the king asks slowly.

I shake my head, and he sniffs in my direction as if he’s trying to scent whether I’m telling the truth or not. There’s nothing more I can say to defend myself—I have no hard evidence to present to him—so I remain silent, even though my mind is whirring with plans.

If he decides to punish me, I’ll need to make sure that Korr isn’t implicated in any way. It’ll help that I was alone both times I’d stumbled into that corridor, and he was clearly someplace else on both occasions.

“Very well,” the king says at last. “I am sorry you were imprisoned.”

I lift my eyebrows, surprised. “You are?”

King Gorvor sets his hands on his knees and assesses me. “Aye. I believe you got caught in the crossfire of a decades-old argument, through no fault of your own.”

At that, Marut makes a choked noise from the threshold. But when I glance at him, I could swear his cheeks are a deeper shade of green than earlier. Korr only leans his shoulder closer to mine and doesn’t contradict the king.

“So I’m free to leave? Y-you’re not keeping me here because I’m…” I trail off, not wanting to say the word that caused me so much grief in my home village. So I amend, “Because I used magic?”

King Gorvor shakes his head. “My clan has no quarrel with the witches. You didn’t use your power to harm anyone, so I don’t see it as an issue.”

“What?” I glance from him to Korr and back, confusion rising. “Are you serious?”

The orc king stands, clearly done with this conversation. “Now, listen to me carefully. You are free to leave the prison, but not the Hill.” When Korr opens his mouth to protest, the king merely lifts his hand, indicating he’s not finished talking. “This is a temporary measure. Also, any correspondence you try to send out of the palace will be inspected. We will revisit this issue in a month’s time. If you are deemed trustworthy by the people you spend your days with at that time, your full freedom will be reinstated. Is that acceptable?”

I feel that Korr wants to object, but I dig my fingernails into his palm to stop him. This means I won’t be able to go outside to gather herbs or to hunt with Korr. Still, it’s a small enough punishment at a moment when I thought all was lost.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I say quickly. “I don’t have anyone to write to anyway. Thank you for your lenience.”

He sends me a stern look, as if he’s suspicious of my quick agreement, and maybe I am laying it on a bit thick. But just an hour earlier, I’d been certain of my doom, so this short sentence isn’t horrible at all.

But the king has more to say. He turns to the door and motions for Marut to enter the cell. Korr’s brother hesitates, then draws closer, and when he steps into the pool of light cast by the lantern on the floor, I note his split lip and bruised jaw.

Considering the fast orc healing I’ve witnessed when working with Taris, I suspect his scuffle with Korr must have been quite severe if this is the extent of his injuries.

I’m not proud of the vicious surge of satisfaction when I see that.

Korr stands, so I do, too, still holding on to his hand. I’ll stand by his side whatever happens.

“I am most disappointed in how you conducted yourselves today,” the king says gravely, addressing both of them. “And in front of the entire clan, too. We cannot have brothers fighting in the great hall.”

I want to ask if he has finally made up with his brother or if he’s keeping one of these cells ready for the unfortunate orc, but I bite my tongue, aware that this isn’t the right moment to be smart.

“I’m sorry, my king,” Korr says. “My worry for my mate got the best of me.”

King Gorvor frowns at him. “If I thought that was the entire truth, I would let you go. But you two have kept this feud going since we were all boys at the old palace, and it’s time you put it aside.”

Marut remains silent through this entire exchange, but his gaze darts to Korr before he drops it to the floor again. I would have missed it if I wasn’t glaring at him, but I could swear it was shame darkening his eyes just now.

The king draws himself up to his full height and says, “I told you once that if you stepped a foot out of line again, you’d be spending the night in the dungeons. Which is exactly what will happen. You will remain here until tomorrow.” He sends Korr a glare that could curdle milk and adds, “Together.”

The awfulness of his verdict takes a moment to sink in.

“No,” I blurt. “No, you can’t—”

Korr tugs on my hand. “Hush, Ivy.”

“But he can’t— It’s not fair, you’ll…” I trail off at the harsh expression on Korr’s face.

He knows what this will do to him. He’s spent more time underground lately than he has in years—for me. And it still bothers him enough that he leaves me at the crack of dawn. It bothers him so much that he wakes up in a cold sweat, shouting, and I have to coax him back from the terror.

Yet he’d rather spend the entire night—and day—in here, with his brother, than admit to the king that his weakness will make this punishment unbearable for him.

The king motions for me to leave. “Come on, Ivy. You will see your mate tomorrow. I’m sure you are hungry. I’m sorry to say you missed dinner, but you can stop by the kitchens to see if they’ve got—”

“Let me stay,” I say quickly.

King Gorvor stops in his tracks. “What?”

“Please,” I beg. “Let me stay with Korr. We— I need him. We’ve been apart for so long. Surely you must understand.”

He frowns, and I know he’s thinking about Dawn. He’s likely itching to get back to his queen as it is, and they haven’t been apart for as long as Korr and I have. But he shakes his head and says, “I cannot let you stay in the dungeon. It is their fight. They must clear this issue between them.”

“Go, Ivy,” Korr says. “Please. It will be all right. I will see you tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

He sounds all right. Calm, even. But I know him. I’ve come to know every one of his tells, and when he goes to shove his hand into the pocket of his leather pants, I notice the slight tremor of his fingers. He is already suffering, and it will only get worse. To top it all, he will have to spend the night here in Marut’s company, knowing it’s his brother who’s responsible for the affliction in the first place.

I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking fast. A mad idea pops into my mind, and I want to discard it for being too extreme, but the king gestures at the door again, and my time has run out.

So I ball my right hand into a fist, dart toward Marut, and swing with full force toward his face.