“Ha.” Krujha’s laugh was humorless. “Simple enough when you put it that way. There’s still the problem of getting an audience with him in the first place.”
She and Krujha began to discuss additional details: how they would try to get close to Zesh; how to contact the spy already there; how to actually subdue Zesh and bring him back for judgment. Alwyn remained silent, barely registering their conversation as he marveled at the absurdity of it all, steeling himself for what truly lay ahead of him.
“Any other questions?” Gorza prompted, looking between them. Krujha shook his head. When Alwyn did the same, Gorza clapped her hands together decisively. “Great. Reach out if anything does come up. Take today to rest up, but plan on heading out early tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” Krujha said, standing. Alwyn nodded and followed him out of the tent. Krujha paused, and Alwyn started to step past him when the orc called out, “Alwyn.”
He paused and turned back to Krujha, who grinned at him. “Shall we get lunch together?”
Alwyn felt heat rising in his face. He wanted to say no, but the memory of Krujha looking so forlorn when he had turnedhim down yesterday was still fresh. Besides, they were about to embark on yet another dangerous journey in the morning. He didn’t want to do anything that might make Krujha annoyed with him. They had to get along if they were to keep working together. That was all.
“All right,” he relented. Krujha’s grin widened. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Eighteen
Alwyn
Much to Alwyn’s relief, Galred was nowhere to be found as he and Krujha spent the afternoon together. They ate lunch in the galley, then sat out in the courtyard for a bit, watching the activity surrounding the tower and its connected elven outpost.
King Zorvut, his husband Prince Taegan, and their daughter were probably up in that tower somewhere, Alwyn thought as they sat in its shadow. Sometimes the whole situation still seemed hard to wrap his mind around. Just a few years ago, an elf and an orc together—even just sitting beside each other as Alwyn and Krujha now were—would have been unfathomable. Now, it was entirely mundane; not a single passerby gave them a second glance.
Alwyn shook himself from his introspection, instead focusing on the story Krujha was telling him—something about a brewer in the city, and how much Krujha hated their ale.
“Looks like you’re thinking of other things, though,” Krujha concluded, a laugh in his voice. Alwyn snapped back to attention.
“I’m listening,” Alwyn protested.
“I get it. I’m a little nervous, too,” Krujha said, grinning down at him. “It’s a big deal, after all.”
“I don’t think you get nervous,” Alwyn said. He tried to scowl, but found himself struggling to stifle a grin, as Krujha laughed aloud at that.
“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckled, leaning back. “Means I’m good at only showing what I want.”
“How do you do that?”
“I don’t know. It’s just always been easy. I can make my face say whatever I want it to,” Krujha said, shrugging.
“You would have made a good elf,” Alwyn said, and Krujha howled with laughter again. Alwyn turned away, but couldn’t quite wipe the smile off his face, despite the heads that swiveled in their direction.
“You really want to know how I do it?” Krujha asked when his laugh faded. He was still smiling, but his voice carried a more serious edge now. Alwyn raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “I spent a lot of time watching people. Mimicking their expressions, figuring out how to mirror their faces. And I spent a lot of time listening.”
“So, spying,” Alwyn replied dryly. Krujha chuckled, shrugging.
“You could call it that. I suppose that’s what spycraft is, really—it’s not about deception or lies. Or at least not completely. It’s about seeing all the details from all angles, then focusing on what you need, moment to moment. So my face isn’t so much a lie as it is an exaggeration of the truth. Framing that truth and getting people to see only that, and nothing I don’t want them to see.”
Alwyn nodded but remained silent, unsure how to respond. The topic made him wonder again how real this Krujha was, or if he was just showing Alwyn the face he thought Alwyn wanted to see. And if it was about reflecting the things he saw, what did Krujha see in him? What was he reflecting back to Alwyn?
Luckily, Krujha seemed over the conversation, leaning closer to him. “I think I’ve gotten enough sun for now. Let’s head back.”
They walked back to the barracks where they were staying. Alwyn figured they would rest until supper—but when Krujha opened the door to his room, he held it open for Alwyn, as if expecting him to follow.
Alwyn blinked, surprised, then stepped inside—more on impulse than any rational decision.
Krujha was already closing the door behind him by the time he realized what he’d done. He didn’t know why Krujha had invited him in, or why he’d so readily accepted; but now they were both in here alone.
The room was the same size as Alwyn’s, but the bed was bigger to accommodate an orc-sized tenant. Like his room, there was a chair and a desk in one corner, and a chest at the foot of the bed. With how much larger they all were, there was just barely enough room to walk between the bed and the table to reach the opposite wall.
Krujha sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, and a warm rush of desire pooled into a sweet ache between Alwyn’s legs. No, that was hardly the reason Krujha would have invited him in—what in all the hells was he thinking?
