The magistrate shoos us out of her chamber soon after, and we pass the next happy couple in the hall. They are accompanied by at least two dozen people, friends and family, all chatting loudly until they catch sight of the two massive orcs by my side. One of the little boys in the wedding party lets out a horrified gasp and bursts into tears, and his father scoops him up, cradling him protectively against his chest as if afraid the orcs might attack the child.
Marut turns away swiftly and marches off without a word, and Ozork hunches his shoulders slightly, as if he wants to make himself smaller. My heart aches for them, because they didn’t do anything to deserve this. Marut has been kinder to me than any of my previous suitors, and I hate that they’re being treated this way. But I don’t know what to say, how to defend them in front of all these strangers, so I hurry after them, wishing I had a solution.
In the entrance hall, Mrs. Pimms stops beside me, clutching her reticule and umbrella in her hands. “My dear, congratulations. If you ever need anything…” She glances at my husband, lowers her voice, and whispers, “If you ever find yourself, ah, unhappy in your situation, please write to me.”
On an impulse, I reach out and squeeze her hand quickly. “I will. Thank you. For everything.”
She stares down at my hand for a moment, then gives me a quick nod. “All right. I’d best be off. I’ll have to inform two young ladies that they will not be having an audience with Mr. Marut this afternoon like we thought.”
I narrow my eyes. “He was going to meet more ladies?”
“Yes, well, we didn’t know he was going to choose you, after all.” The matchmaker clears her throat. “Goodbye, Violet.”
I watch her walk through the city hall’s front door, then I whirl around to face Marut.
“You won’t be meeting any more ladies,” I say.
I meant to form it as a question, but it came out as an order. I cringe inwardly at the boldness of the statement, but at the idea that my husband might want to see other women, a burning sensation starts in my belly, hot and angry and…
“Are you jealous, little bird?” he murmurs, stepping up close. “You needn’t worry. There will be no other women for me. Ever. And you will never even look at another man.”
The assurance in his voice soothes something inside me, even as my mind rebels against what he’s saying. I’m not jealous. I can’t be. I barely know him. And his possessive claim that I won’t even look at another man… But then I never wanted to.
Until I met him. And now, I can’t seem to stop watching him. The way his black eyebrows come together in a frown makes me want to smooth my thumbs over them. I want to run the tip of my finger over his white tusks to see if they’re sharp or not.
Beside us, Ozork clears his throat. I realize I’ve been staring at Marut and ignoring the rest of the world, but I shouldn’t feel guilty because he’s been studying me just as intently.
“I need to return to the inn,” the older orc says.
“We will meet you there later,” Marut replies.
Ozork gives me a parting smile, then leaves us in the hall. I’m sure there’s a clerk somewhere, but for the moment, we’re all alone, and the air between us suddenly feels charged with possibility.
This is my husband.
Marut stares at me for a moment longer, his lips pressed together. Then he straightens his shoulders and motions toward the door. “We have some time. If you’d like to return home for your belongings?”
I think of my small room and the few items in my dresser. “That would be good. But can we run an errand first?”
Marut leads the way outside, into the rain. In the east, the sky seems to be clearing up, but Ultrup is still being lashed by spring rain, so I sigh and raise my umbrella over my head. My new husband walks beside me, shielding me from the morning crowds. I navigate through the busy streets from the city hall to the bank where my father set up the account for my dowry.
The building housing the bankers’ offices isn’t as grand as the city hall, so Marut has to duck his head to fit through the doorway. He stays back as I request to speak with Mr. Cobb, whose name I remember from the day I visited here with my brother to explain that he would be taking over my account after our father’s death.
The older gentleman invites us to his narrow office. “Miss Violet. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I’m here to inform you that I’m married.” I indicate Marut, who’s standing behind me—the absence of a third chair in the cramped room has made it impossible for him to sit. “As of this morning, actually. I’m here to retrieve my dowry as you agreed with my father.”
The man sits back, resting his pale hands on the desk between us. “Er, yes. Of course. Let me check the ledger to see where we are with your funds.”
He stands with a huff and walks over to a bookshelf by the door. I smile at Marut. I might not bring bags of gold to our marriage, but I’ve been so careful with money these past years. Now I’ll be able to buy a new dress or two and perhaps some bed linens. A new riding coat for the road would also be lovely.
“There we go,” Mr. Cobb says, returning to his desk. “Miss Violet, Miss Violet…”
He pages through a thick leather-bound accounting book slowly, searching for my name. His face has gone quite red from the small exertion, and I think that he should likely take care of himself a bit more if this is enough to get him so flustered.
Then he lays the book flat and clears his throat. “It’s as I thought. The current balance in your account is seventeen silver pieces and some change.” He pauses to take his handkerchief from his pocket and dabs it on his forehead. “Shall I, ah, draw the remaining funds for you?”
He doesn’t meet my gaze but stares at the ledger resolutely as if that will make this information any easier to digest.
“What?” I lean forward, trying to peer at the ledger. “That can’t be right.”
Mr. Cobb pulls the book closer to his chest. “I can assure you, my balance is quite correct.”
“But—” I clench my hands in my lap, trepidation rising in my chest. “I-I know the sum wasn’t that large to begin with, but my father set aside forty gold marks…” I run through the calculations in my head. I never kept a tally on paper, but this was supposed to be an account with a high interest rate. Even with the small monthly sum that Huck withdrew for me, there should be much more.
The banker clears his throat. “There is no easy way to say this, miss. Your brother assumed control over your finances when your father passed away. He has been steadily withdrawing money from this account. Every month, he took out just under a gold mark.”
“No,” I protest. “My pin money was never…”
He regards me with pity, and suddenly I know. Huck has been spending my money. For every silver piece he gave me, he took gods know how many for his own.
“Show me the book,” Marut says suddenly.
I look up to find that he has closed in on us. He towers over the desk, his large form throwing a shadow on the banker.
“Now, see here.” Mr. Cobb flushes even more in his indignation.
But he falls silent when Marut simply picks up the ledger, puts on his spectacles again, and pores over the thin lines of numbers and notes.
“How could you allow this to happen?” I demand. “You knew this was my money.”
“My dear,” the banker splutters. “For all I knew, every copper went to you. Your brother never discussed the purpose of his withdrawals with me.”
“And you didn’t think to inform me?” I protest. “This was my dowry.”
But I know I’m at fault as well. I let this happen. I was content to let Huck handle my finances for me and I trusted him to do it well. Gods, I thought he was a better man than that.
And why would he even do it? Such small sums, too, for a man of his position. A gold mark would barely register on his accounts. But to me, the money that my father provided for me was everything. It was the path to my independence, and after this morning, when Marut refused to have me sign over my fortune to him, it was to be all mine.
What a joke that turned out to be. I have nothing to sign over at all.
Marut lays down the ledger and crouches next to me. “Would you prefer to wait in Ultrup until your brother returns? We could demand the money back. I can make him give it back if you’d like.”
I stare into his dark-brown eyes and consider his offer. Then I close mine in defeat. While seeing Marut shake down Huck would provide some satisfaction, it wouldn’t wash away the hurt now coursing through me.
“Let’s just leave,” I whisper. “I don’t want anything more to do with this.”
Marut watches me a while longer, then gives me a curt nod. He stands and tells Mr. Cobb, “She wishes to withdraw all the remaining funds from her account.”
The banker purses his lips. “I’ll need to see the marriage certificate, please.”
Marut growls at the man, who pales and closes the ledger with shaking fingers. He doesn’t ask for the certificate again but lifts an iron lockbox on the table and opens it with a key attached to his belt. He counts out the small sum of money and says, “That’s everything, minus the banking fee, of course.”
My vision goes red. I stand and slam my hands on the desk. “The banking fee?” I screech. “Are you joking?”
Mr. Cobb blinks at me, his face paling. “Miss, keep your voice down, please. No need to get upset, this is just standard—”
“I don’t care for your godsdamned standards, Mr. Cobb,” I seethe. “You will waive your banking fee, or so help me, I will march right back to the city hall and inform them of your practices. You helped my brother rob me of my inheritance, and if you think you will have a single customer left after I’m done with you, you are severely mistaken.”
A ringing silence follows my outburst. The banker swallows thickly, then roots through the lockbox for more change and adds it to the pile of coins on the desk. Without checking that it’s the correct amount, I sweep the lot into my palms and shove it into my pockets.
“Y-you need to leave,” the banker stutters. “Our business is concluded. Good day.”
I turn for the door and march out, head held high. Damned if I will break down in front of all these stuffy men who stare at us from their open offices. Marut follows me, his hand hovering at my back but never touching, and I appreciate his presence more than ever. He’s so large, he shields me from the bankers’ view, for which I’m immensely grateful.
Once outside, I break into a run and don’t stop until I’m well away from the bank, rounding one corner and then the next. Marut keeps up with me easily and doesn’t even seem out of breath when I finally halt in front of a small bakery, my chest heaving, my body breaking out in a sweat.
I stare up at him, at a loss for words. The rain pelts onto me, thick and cold, until Marut pries my umbrella from my hands and opens it for me. He holds it over my head, and it’s this small, kind gesture that tips me over the edge.
My eyes prickle with tears, and as much as I want to hold back a sob, I can’t. The floodgates open, so I cover my face with my gloved hands and try to hide—from Marut’s knowing gaze and from the curious glances of the people in the street.
My orc husband shuffles a step closer and lets out a low sound. “Ah, little bird. I would hold you right now if I could.”
I cry harder, knowing it would feel so good to be wrapped in his big arms. To find comfort in the knowledge that he’s there for me. But something is still keeping me back, and I can’t change that about myself.
“I’m sorry,” I sob. “I’m a mess. You didn’t sign up for this. I’d understand—” My breath hitches in my throat, and I swallow convulsively to get the next words out. “I’d understand if you wanted to annul our marriage. I’m penniless, and you can’t even touch me, and my brother…”
I don’t know what to say about my brother. He has condemned me to a life of poverty, first by keeping me on as a poorly paid servant in my own home, and now by spending the best part of my dowry.
“Here.” Marut nudges something into my palm.
I lower my hands to find a light-blue silk handkerchief in my hand. It’s neatly pressed and folded, though slightly damp, probably because Marut has been in the rain most of the morning. Still, I make use of it to wipe my face and blow my nose, then tuck it into the pocket of my skirt.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Marut is still standing as close to me as possible without actually touching. “I don’t want an annulment,” he says, his voice low but firm. “And you are not a mess.”
I sniffle but manage to avoid another round of blubbering. “How do you figure that? I didn’t even see this coming.”
“You trusted your family,” he says. “That doesn’t make you a bad person—or silly. The only ones who should be ashamed are your brother and that banker.” He casts a dark look over his shoulder. “I still have half a mind to go and choke him until he coughs up the entirety of your dowry.”
I gape at the idea. “Uh, no, that wouldn’t be smart. They’d call the city watch on you, and you’d get arrested. What he did was perfectly legal, I think.”
“Well, then, your laws need changing,” he grumbles.
I can’t argue with him there, so I fold my arms awkwardly over my chest. “That’s it, then. I’d hoped to buy some new items for the road. We’d best make for my brother’s house. I’ll pack my things, and we can be off.”
I don’t mean to sound so forlorn, but the reality of my miserable situation is finally becoming clear. I’ll bring nothing to my marriage—not money, apparently, and not my body.
Then Marut reaches into the pocket of his cloak, pulls out his money purse, and shoves it at me. I take it without thinking, too surprised to think about what I’m doing, then stare at it in confusion.
“You will buy what you need.” Marut scowls at me. “We don’t have much time, but you will also be able to get certain things at the Hill. We have good artisans. Seamstresses and cobblers. A goldsmith, too, if you want more jewelry.”
I gape at him. “What? No—I didn’t want—I didn’t cry to make you give me money, Marut.” I try to hand the purse back to him. “This is too much.”
He shakes his head firmly. “I have more money than I will ever need. If this will make you more comfortable, you can keep it all.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s being serious. I heft the bag of money in my hands, thinking quickly. “You said I can get clothes at the Hill? And new shoes?”
At his nod, I try to think of anything else I might need that I wouldn’t be able to get in the orc kingdom.
“All right,” I say. “Then we have one stop to make before we head for my home.”
