And Rosa had said —yes.
Gods, it had been sheer and utter madness, and Rosa stared at the orc with a rapidly rising horror. She bore his seed. And now she would bear hisson?!
“You don’t know that,” she said, too quickly, too frantic. “It was only one time. It might befine.”
But there was a hard, brittle noise from the orc’s throat, another contemptuous curl of his lip. “It shall not befine, foolish woman,” he said, clipped. “You have not of late released a seed, and thus, when it soon comes, my seed shall surely gain its end. Orc-seed does not fail, in this. It must not, to keep our kind alive, in these dark days.”
Rosa’s heart was pounding erratically, her gaze trapped on this awful orc’s awful face. “So you mean,” she breathed, “to — to take me away, tokidnapme, and force me to bear yourchild?”
The orc’s glittering eyes briefly closed, those arms shifting against his chest. “No,” he snapped. “Even if I wished to sire a son upon you, you are far too small a woman to risk this. More likely than not, my son shouldkillyou.”
Rosa felt her own eyes squeezing shut, the fear racing up her back in furious jolts, and she fought for air, for clarity. She was clever, she was a researcher, no matter what this orc said, surely there was some answer to this, some neat solution…
“There — there are people who help women with such things,” she said, the words tumbling out in a rush of startling, sheer relief. “There are herbs. I’ll go and deal with it that way.”
But there was only another bitter, mocking sound from the orc, and when Rosa blinked at him again, he was shaking his head, slow, deliberate. “These herbs shall accomplish naught, against an orc-son. Orc-sons are far stronger than human babes.”
Rosa should have argued that — how did he know, howcouldhe know such things — but for some inexplicable reason, she didn’t. “Well,” she said instead, “there are people who address such quandaries — other ways. With tools, and implements, and such.”
She couldn’t help another unwilling shudder as she spoke, but she otherwise held herself still, held her eyes on the orc’s impassive face. Surely not even a powerful orc-son could survive such a thing — she’d in fact just read multiple accounts of other orc-infested women managing similar predicaments thus — and that look in the orc’s eyes confirmed it, distaste and disapproval and perhaps even unease.
“Indeed,” he said, his voice very thin. “And even if these fools do not maim you or kill you with theseimplements, you must needs allow my son to grow large enough before you can be sure he will be reached thus. And what shall you tell yourpatron, when your little belly swells? Shall he believe it to be his own? Shall he be pleased with you?”
Rosa betrayed another convulsive wince, because despite his particular intimate preferences, and his vast swathe of conquests, Lord Kaspar was still outwardly a fastidious, proper man. A man who highly valued his scholarly and genteel reputation, and who therefore held a deep dislike of malignant rumour-mongering, and a particular aversion to illegitimate by-blows. And though Rosa knew for a fact that he had at least several of these running about the countryside, she also knew that Lord Kaspar had never once acknowledged them, let alone their unfortunate mothers.
“I — I’ll deal with Lord Kaspar,” Rosa said, though her voice sounded undeniably faint. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Shall you?” asked the orc, merciless, inexorable. “And shall yourpatronwish you to keep this job at this library, after this? Shall he wish the world to see the proof of what he does when he is alone with his silly little plaything?”
The words felt like a real physical blow, echoing Rosa’s exact thoughts with cruel, devastating force. Because of course this awful orc was right, especially when Lord Kaspar was so close to finally gaining Lady Scall’s fortune. If he discovered that Rosa was pregnant, he surely wouldn’t hesitate to cast her out entirely, with no financial support, away from her beloved library,forever.
Rosa’s breath was coming in shallow little gasps, her heart thundering madly in her ribcage, and she took a short, shaky step backwards. What had she done. Gods in heaven, what had she done.
“S-so what, then?” she managed, her voice badly wavering. “What am I to do?”
And why she had the slightest expectation that this horrible orc would provide the slightest assistance, she couldn’t fathom — but she was staring at those forbidding black eyes, begging, pleading, needing. He had to dosomething. Hehadto.
There was an instant’s stillness, and she could see the orc’s throat convulsing, his eyes flicking away from her, to the wall beyond. “I swore, in this,” he said, quieter now, “to care for you. So you shall come with me, and my brothers shall mend this for us.”
Rosa’s heartbeat kept clamouring, her thoughts skittering uselessly through her head. “Your brothers?” her voice echoed. “Otherorcs?”
“Yes,” he snapped back. “I have brothers with gifts of healing, who need no herbs, and no sharp tools. They shall help you.”
“Really?” Rosa asked, the word coming out high-pitched, incredulous. “They would help me — deal with — one of their ownsons, in such a way?”
Because in all Rosa’s research, the orcs’ fierce devotion to their sons had been one of the more credible-seeming claims of the lot. Hinting at the possibility of actual affection on the orcs’ part, true paternal care for their own, and why would humans bother to create such an inconvenient falsehood?
“Yes,” the orc said, his voice stubborn, his bottom lip jutting out. “They shall do this, if I tell them so.”
And gods curse her, but looking at this orc, Rosa again, somehow, believed him. “And how long,” she said faintly, “would such an endeavour take?”
“This, I do not know,” came the orc’s curt reply. “I should hope for only days, but it may be weeks. It hangs upon you, woman, and when your little womb brings forth its seed, to meet mine.”
Oh. For some ridiculous reason, Rosa’s cheeks heated at the words, and she belatedly dropped her eyes from his face, and fought for rational thought. “But I can’t leave the library for weeks,” she said helplessly. “Not now. Ican’t.”
“You can,” growled the orc. “And you will, woman. It is this, or else yourlife. You cannot truly be so foolish as not to grasp this?!”
And Rosa wasn’t, but Lord Kaspar, the war, her one chance to become a student, a scholar, someone worthy, someone whomattered—
