I wake up groggy and disoriented, alone in the underground room. But beside the bed, on the sturdy chair, stands a cup of tea and a covered bowl of broth, both still warm. My heart thaws at the attentiveness, and I eagerly drink both, already feeling steadier than the day before.
I use the toilet and wash myself as best I can, but I encounter my first problem. My dress has disappeared, along with my chemise, and all I’m left with is the borrowed linen shift Dawn changed me into—and the too-large shirt belonging to my new orc guardian.
That word is still strange to even think about. I never thought my father would assign someone to protect me, let alone a male like Steagor, but here I am.
I have no clue on how to behave as his ward, either.
In my limited experience, a ward is usually an orphaned child taken in by relatives, and I don’t fit that description in any way. I’m twenty-two, for gods’ sake. I’ll have to make sure Steagor doesn’t see me as a child. He must be at least a decade my senior, which might color his judgment, but I am certainly no longer a little girl.
Pursing my lips, I look down at my makeshift outfit. The shirt is long enough to cover me, but it doesn’t do much to disguise my curves.
First order of business will be to make myself presentable. And then I’ll find my poor guardian and relieve him of his duty. The orc must be horrified at the thought of having to play matchmaker for me, and the entire concept is mortifying to the extreme. I’d always thought I’d marry some nice man, perhaps a stranger from another town who came into my father’s shop for a new coat, but no one ever caught my eye.
No one has ever commanded as much of my attention and fascination as—
I stop my errant thoughts. What I think about Steagor is completely beside the point. He will probably celebrate when I announce I don’t need his help with finding a husband. I’ll ask him if he knows about a working position I could take through the winter at least. It would be nice not to have to worry about freezing to death on the road.
There’s also the small issue of those wanted posters plastered all over Styria.
But I’m not in the human realm anymore. So maybe spending some time in the orc kingdom isn’t a bad idea at all. By the time spring comes along and the roads are passable once more, those noticeboards will bear new wanted posters, and my transgression will be forgotten.
At least I hope so.
But first, I have to find Steagor or Dawn and get my clothes back from them. I walk to the door, happy that my legs are steady, even if I’m still not as strong as I used to be. I undo the heavy iron latch and peer out of the doorway.
The corridor outside is dimly lit by lanterns hanging at regular intervals. I chew on the inside of my cheek, deciding on which way to go. A mutter of voices comes from the left, so I head there, hoping to find someone who could point me in the right direction.
Walking slowly to keep from falling over, I trace my hand on the warm walls, wondering at this structure. I’d thought that Steagor’s room was a part of a small dwelling, an underground house of sorts, but judging by the number of rooms I pass—and the length of the gently curving corridor—this place must be much larger than I imagined.
Finally, I spot three orcs in the half-light. They stop talking when they spot me and turn toward me. The closer I get to them, the more my apprehension grows, because I realize once more how tall they are.
“Oh, hello, Poppy,” booms one of them, lifting his hand in greeting.
I squint at him, and recognition hits me. It’s the younger orc who was with Steagor when I’d stumbled on their camp in the forest.
“Hello, Neekar,” I greet him.
The orc steps up to me, slings an arm around my shoulders, and drags me to his companions. “These ugly brutes are Uram and Vark.”
The first orc, Uram, is close to Neekar’s age, perhaps a year or two older than him, but it’s Vark who draws my gaze—his left eye is covered by a black patch, and the scar bisecting his eyebrow and marring his forehead tells me he must have suffered a horrific injury to lose it.
He sees my curious gaze and ducks his head, and I immediately feel bad about it, cursing myself for staring.
“I-I’m looking for Dawn. Or Steagor,” I explain, looking up at Neekar. “I need my clothes back.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. The last thing I want is to draw attention at my state of undress—I haven’t spent a day without stays since I was fourteen and first grew my ample breasts.
But the orcs don’t seem to notice. They certainly don’t leer at me like I’d expect human men to do. Neekar merely nods, murmurs a goodbye to his friends, and steers me farther down the corridor, his arm still around my shoulders.
He chatters constantly, telling me about the Hill, pointing out various rooms and corridors that branch off from the main one. He seems to know everyone we meet, and he introduces me to orc after orc. I do my best to remember their names, but there are so many, and in the dim light of the hallway, it’s hard to see their faces clearly as we pass each other.
Finally, he brings me to another wooden door, knocks, and looks down at me, his eyebrows raised. “Here we are.”
I don’t know where here is, but he seems to think it’s the right place, so I have no option but to trust him. “Thank you.”
The door swings open, and an orc woman stands in the doorway. She’s taller than me by almost a foot, her body is curvy and strong—and she’s absolutely stunning. Her large dark eyes widen as she sees me on the threshold, and she reaches forward immediately, wrapping me in a hug.
“Oh, you’re awake,” she exclaims. “That’s so good to see. I was worried we might lose you.”
I find myself pressed to her generous bosom and let out a surprised squawk, then awkwardly pat her back. I’ve never met this woman, but she certainly seems to know me.
From somewhere behind me, Neekar says, “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands, Poppy. I have to run now.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving me alone with this stranger.
Or—not alone. A scuff of footsteps announces another person present, and I find Dawn smiling at me from the other side of the room.
“Mara, let her breathe,” she admonishes gently. “Humans aren’t used to this much hugging.”
Mara lets me go with obvious reluctance. “I’m sorry. You seemed so small and fragile in that bed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Steagor so worried, and I’ve known him all my life.”
I clear my throat, not knowing what to say, then settle on extending my hand to her. “Hello, I’m Poppy.”
She grins and shakes my hand. “Mara. I’m the brains of the Hill.”
Dawn laughs at that. “That’s the best description of your work I’ve heard yet.”
Mara shows me to one of the chairs surrounding a small working table in the middle of the room, and she and Dawn sit as well. The table is strewn with papers, and a massive leather-bound ledger sits on top, neat columns of numbers written on the open pages.
“Mara runs the day-to-day business of the Hill,” Dawn explains. “She takes care of all our provisions, supplies, and so on. And records any trades we do with the human kingdom.”
Mara offers her a smile. “And Dawn has been learning the ropes, helping me with it.” Then she turns to me. “Would you like something to eat?”
There’s a plate of fruit and cheese on a side table, and she carries it over to me.
“Thank you,” I say, somewhat intimidated by all of this.
“We’ll only be a moment, and then we can give you all our attention,” Dawn tells me, shuffling through the papers. “We’re nearly done.”
To keep myself from fidgeting, I pick up a pear and bite into it, the waxy peel giving way to sweet, juicy flesh. It’s the best pear I’ve ever tasted—or maybe it’s so good because I’ve only had broth to eat these past days. I nibble on it and watch as Dawn and Mara work, admiring their ease with numbers and with each other. It’s clear they’re friends, and I wonder how that came about.
Soon, Mara arranges the papers in a neat stack and carries both them and the ledger to a heavy wooden chest, then locks them inside.
“That’s done,” she says with obvious satisfaction as she takes her seat again.
Dawn turns to me. “Sorry for making you wait. How did you sleep? Are you still feeling weak?”
I sit straighter, eager to make a good impression on them even with my matted hair and borrowed shirt. “I’m much better. And I slept great. Steagor’s bed is very comfortable.”
Then I realize how that must sound and add in a hurry, “He, ah, slept on the floor. He was very mindful of—of…”
I want to say propriety, but there’s really nothing proper about me spending the night in a room alone with a man. If that happened in my old town, I’d be…
I look up at the two women in dismay. “Oh, no. Am I ruined now?”
Mara frowns at me. “What do you mean?”
But Dawn reaches out to pat my hand. “You’re not ruined. You aren’t food that gets spoiled. Or a toy that gets broken.” Her voice wobbles, and she clears her throat before speaking again. “You’re a person, and your worth isn’t determined by what others think of you, is all I’m saying.”
Staring at her, I wonder about the emotion in her words. This is personal to her, and I want to ask her about it, but as before, I don’t know if I have the right, knowing her for such a short period of time.
“Ohh,” Mara says, her eyes round. “This is another human thing. All right. I understand.”
I push a lock of hair behind my ear. “So…orcs don’t mind if two unwed people spend a night in the same room?”
She shrugs. “As long as they’re happy, no one cares.”
“Even if they…you know…?” I lower my voice, not knowing how to ask about this.
“You mean if they fuck?” She grins.
The crude word is a shock, because I’ve never heard it spoken in polite conversation. I cover my face with my hands, then mumble, “Yes, that.”
Mara laughs. “Oh, Poppy. I’m afraid that your first days here in the Hill might be a bit surprising for you.”
“But we’ll help you get used to it,” Dawn interjects. “Don’t worry.”
That doesn’t give me an answer about…fucking, but I have to assume the orcs are fine with that as well. Which is strange and wrong and—and inappropriate. I’ve been taught that what men and women do to produce babies can only be done after marriage, and even then under the cover of darkness, and only until the woman grows pregnant. And I’d fully expected that to be my fate as well after I finally find a husband.
That doesn’t explain why my heart is beating faster or why I’m suddenly dying of curiosity. I want to know more, and I don’t know how to ask.
I’ll have to keep my eyes and ears open. And maybe I’ll find the courage to ask Mara or Dawn about it—but not yet. Not today.
“I’d like to get my shift and dress back,” I tell them, motioning at my outfit. “And my stays.”
Dawn grimaces. “I’m afraid they’re still in the laundry. They were…”
“Oh, I can imagine,” I hurry to say. “Thank you for cleaning them for me.”
“We’ll find you something to wear, don’t worry,” Mara says cheerfully.
I look from her to Dawn, squinting doubtfully. “Uh, I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m much smaller than both of you.”
“Just wait and see,” Dawn says mysteriously.
Mara runs a critical eye over me. “But first, you need a bath.”
