Page 6 of His Orc Lady
“The orc who carried me here,” she says instead of answering my question. “Ozork. He seemed very concerned with my half-frozen state. Why was that?”
I press my lips together, wondering how much to tell her. I can’t just announce that I suspect she’s his mate. He should have the privilege of doing that—and besides, Willow might run right out into the cold again if she learns that the massive orc warrior, more than a decade her senior, will forever be devoted to her.
It’s a lot to process, and I don’t want to spook her. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize Ozork’s future happiness.
“Orcs can sometimes react with more force than strictly necessary,” I hedge, choosing my words carefully. “Especially when it comes to humans. You see, we’re quite a bit sturdier than you.”
I motion at her body, then mine. Though we’re both submerged to our chins, it’s clear she’s half a head shorter than me and of slighter stature.
“I suppose he saw your bluish lips and pale face and thought you were about to die,” I add.
I’m not certain she knows how bedraggled she looked earlier. It seems rude to point it out—and Ozork certainly didn’t care one bit.
She touches her fingers to her lips, pensive. “Ah. And is he a guard?”
I open my mouth to answer, but she widens her eyes, then adds quickly, “I mean, I’m only asking because he seemed older than the others at the door.”
I fight a smile. Oh, she’s interested in him, it’s clear as day, but human propriety doesn’t allow her to inquire about a strange man, I suppose.
It’s really quite late, but Ozork has been a good friend—more than that, he’s always been like an uncle to me, or perhaps an older cousin—and I’ll help him any way I can.
“Of course.” I keep my expression level. “Ozork is the one who leads most of the trading caravans to the human lands. He’s in charge of purchasing provisions for the clan, the items we cannot make or grow on our lands. You might have seen him in Ultrup, actually.”
If he saw her, he never gave any indication. He’s traveled to Ultrup so many times over the years, but he never spoke about meeting anyone special.
“I’d remember him.” Willow glances over her shoulder in the direction of the corridor.
I can’t stop myself from grinning. “I suppose you would.”
She frowns at me, then widens her eyes, clearly horrified. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean because of his scars!” She flutters her hands, splashing some water over the edge of the pool. “I wouldn’t—they don’t bother me. Not that it matters one way or another, it’s just…”
She snaps her mouth shut, and her face turns pink all over, the redness of her cheeks spreading everywhere. It’s fascinating to watch.
But Willow seems genuinely uncomfortable, so I take pity on her.
“Did you know he also plays the fiddle?” I ask calmly.
Willow goggles at me. “The fiddle?”
“Aye. You should ask him to play for you sometime.”
She should know that her mate is the kindest soul in the Hill, a true gentleman, even if he used to be a warrior in the old king’s Army. Ever since Gorvor offered him a better life, he’s been the most loyal, faithful subject and a dear friend.
Willow shrinks back, no doubt because her proper upbringing is surfacing from under her earlier shock. “I couldn’t do that. I barely know him.”
I’ve done all I can here. If I push her any more, she’ll think it strange, so I stand on the bench and shake off the water.
“Well, you’ll have all winter to make his acquaintance. I’m sure you’ll find the right moment.”
It hits me then that if the captain she mentionedisthe same man I saw all those weeks ago, he, too, will be stuck in the Hill over the cold winter months. In a month or so, when the forest road is impassable and the land is buried under a layer of ice, it would be folly for them to leave. Already, Willow arrived half-frozen on our doorstep, so whatever plans she and her retinue have will need to be adjusted for the mountain weather.
I walk to the nearest shelf stacked with mist-dampened bathing sheets, wrap one around my body, and take the other to Willow, who has climbed out in the meantime and is drying herself with the sheet she brought. She accepts the second one gratefully and wraps it around her hair. I pick up my dress from the stone floor and march right back into the fog with Ozork’s new mate trailing behind me.
I’ll have to be quick and get out of the chamber before Willow’s captain—whether he’shimor not—catches up with us. We tarried here too long, but I couldn’t leave the poor woman to sob alone in the baths. She could have gotten turned around. I can’t imagine how strange this must be for her, but now it’s time for me to disappear. I’ll leave Willow in Ozork’s care and retire to my rooms as soon as possible.
As we close in on the corridor, I stop at a bench laden with more bath sheets and the very useful dressing gowns that are a more recent addition to the space. “Here.” I pass one of the soft bundles to Willow. “Poppy thought of these, and they’re brilliant. You can wear it to your room and change there, then bring it back the next time you come here.”
I put on one of the garments as well—there’s no use struggling into my dress and tying all the laces when I’m just going to undress myself again in my room.
