“She was beautiful from the first day she emerged from the womb. You know when Oshin first had her, he knew that much beauty would be a detriment. Unless, she was just as beautiful inside as out. So, his first thoughts? He strapped her to his chest, and brought her all the way south to Solaya. You see, in Solaya, he knew a human woman with the most beautiful soul he’d ever seen. He was sure that by being around Joanna, Negan would learn to be pure and good inside also.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “Now keep in mind, there were no alliances between the Blackhearts and the West Mountain orcs at that time. It took nerves of steel to enter an enemy’s territory. Especially a lone male, who’d once been their prisoner, with an infant strapped to his chest. But he parked himself in the woods, pitched his tent, and sent up a smoke signal. And when the Royal Guard approached to see what he wanted, he proudlyshowed off his baby. He calmly stated that he was bringing his brand-new daughter to see Joanna. He didn’t know that Latsil, a male of the royal guard, was her mate and recognized him. It took a lot of trust for Oshin to hand his precious, helpless daughter to those males to take into the gates for Joanna. I can’t imagine having that much strength. Before the guards returned, he calmly pitched his tent a few more feet closer to the front gates.”
I lean forward, entranced with the tale.
She snickers, lost in her own story. “So, when Joanna got that precious little one into her arms, she and the other women, much to their males’ dismay, hurried outside the gates to congratulate Oshin.”
“The king allowed it?”
“He sent more of his own royal guards out to safeguard the women. He didn’t plan on them spending all day outdoors, calling it a birthday party. And at nightfall had to order them inside. With a twinkle in her eye, Joanna asked Oshin if he’d like her to take Negan into her cabin that night where it was safe and warm. He agreed and of course, Brachard could hardly send him packing off his territory with the male’s child in his village. The next morn, Oshin’s tent was moved yet another few yards closer. Again, the females brought Negan out to her father, but they stayed to visit. The day turned into another party, with Joanna blackmailing two males, Kreele and Terk, into bringing a barrel of ale out. No one knows what she had on them, but they hurried to do her bidding. And again, the Royal Guard had to come out to protect every drunken person involved. The next time, Joanna insisted on a picnic lunch. But it was chilly that day. And so, a lot of the women kept going back and forth between the camp and the village gates. They’d bring back hot soups and stews and drinks. Brachard finally threw his hands up and said that it was ridiculous that there was a constant party going on outside the gates, hogging up half of his own protection guard while the other half were sodden fools dipping in ale. Ignoring the fact that he was the one who insisted they protect everyone. He ordered Oshin,the first Blackheart orc ever, to enter the West Mountain village.” She winks. “As a free man, I mean. The first Blackheart to enter who was not a prisoner.”
“Did he sweep the woods to see if others were hiding?” I bark.
“I’m sure,” she agrees. “There was no trust between the two clans. But you understand that because you see it within your own.”
I nod. It’s baffling to all orcs to see this alliance that sprung about between the two most powerful clans. They were once the most hated of enemies, like my clan is with all the others.
“You know that’s how Latsil obtained his scars? From the Blackheart clan?”
“What? Shalia’s father, with the light green hair? The male who protects the first prince?”
She nods. “He was a Blackheart prisoner. Sold into it by his first mate. She lived with him in Solaya and no one knew that she was the traitor. No one inside the gates could find Latsil anywhere. Searched high and low. And poor Lats? Eventually, knowing he would never be found alive, he killed the Blackheart king. Imagine… the male was at his weakest. Captive for months. Hurt, tortured, scarred, and starved. And on top of it all, a broken heart, because he was well aware that his mate was present when he was taken, much as he didn’t want to believe she had anything to do with it. You know what it’s like when an orc falls in love. Anyway, he gained the titleKingslayer. How a man so broken managed to take down a powerful king of the vicious Blackhearts is still a mystery. Some say there was an unspoken agreement between him and the now-King Jacovi.” She shrugs. “Mayhap, Jacovi untied Latsil. Mayhap he tended to his wounds. Mayhap he snuck him food. All we know for sure is Latsil managed to break free, challenged the king, and killed him. With no one else qualified, Jacovi stepped in as new king. And Latsil walked free.”
“And his mate?”
“After Latsil returned and still defended her, King Brachard ordered a second mate brought into his marriage. His reasoning was that Tavri, the first mate, refused to have a child. ‘Twas quite the sacrilege to not continue the line for the now-proclaimed Kingslayer. Despite not wanting to have another mate, Latsil didn’t go against his king’s wisdom. The new mate, Vinshesa, killed Tavri for her betrayal and then left the mateship as if it had been planned all along by his childhood friend. Latsil was devastated. He was left broken-hearted once again, this time to mourn his mate. But then he met Joanna. And all those bitter old wounds were cleared away like magic. Of course, having met Joanna, you can see how easily that happens. Which is exactly why Oshin wanted his daughter to grow up around Joanna’s magic touch.”
“It worked well then. Because Negan is perfect. She’s strong and smart. Gorgeous, fair—”
“And she has a vicious side,” Rosemary says. “She needs it to live within the Blackheart clan. But you know what’s amazing? She can turn it off at will. The sweet girl you see here? It’s the same sweet girl she is in Solaya. But in the Blackheart territory, she fights alongside her father.”
“She shouldn’t have to fight—” I start.
But Rosemary holds up a hand. “You’re missing the point. Her father doesn’t change her and she doesn’t change anyone. She’s accepted the way she is. It may be your job to protect her. But there’s a fine line between protection and accepting her for who she is. Allowing her to be all that she can be. She will love you that much harder if you don’t smother her.”
And I think I understand what this wise old human is trying to say. She’s trying to get me to understand a long-term picture, not just urges for today.
“Look at you two, up bright and early,” a husky voice says from behind us.
My heart roars to life, thumping inside my chest, at her presence. I turn and take in the sight.
There’s never been a more beautiful female to grace the Earth. Her hair is full. Unbraided from sleep. Her cheeks are flushed darker than the rest of her skin. Her eyes are soft. Her lips full and pouty. Kissable. Just like she kisses the rose I left on her nightstand, then twirls it between her fingers.
But it’s the look in her eyes that is the loveliest of all. The awareness ofus. The remembrance of the magic that we will soon share.
“Come sit down, beautiful. I’ll get you this”—I peer down at the brown and cream liquid in my cup— “toffee.”
“Coffee,” Rosemary says. “And I’ll get it.” She gets up before anyone can say anything else. “Was telling Varguk here about when you were a baby. How your dad became friends with the West Mountains.”
Negan smiles softly as I tug her next to me and press a kiss to her cheek. I linger, smelling the sweet scent of her hair. I don’t care what Rosemary and Paul know about what occurred between us. All I know is I have limited time to let her know what it could have been like between us. What it might still be like if I can keep her safe from my own clan.
That I would sacrifice myself to keep her safe.
“So,” Rosemary says, “I thought you two might like to go get some shopping done. I’d like to make roast chicken tonight. I’ve got the vegetables to pull from the garden and just need a few things from the butcher. Oh, maybe we can trade some vegetables with Mrs. Scarinth for some of those berries she grows? I’ll make a pie.”
She sets a plate in front of Negan with some of the sweet treat.
“You made spice cake!” Negan says, getting the fork and dipping it into the glistening blob of cream. She spears a bit of the cake and then brings the bite to my mouth.
“I have my own,” I protest.
