We? Maria blinked, but didn’t argue, and accordingly followed him out of the room. Toward where Baldr was already waiting, and soon they were striding through the corridor together, their combined footfalls completely silent on the stone floor beneath them.
And as they walked, Maria realized that they were taking her out of the Skai wing. Beyond the familiar, twisty dark corridors, and into an area that looked different, felt different. The corridors brighter, wider, straighter, with many unfamiliar orcs walking by. Orcs with different kinds of faces, often broader and warmer, even smiling at Maria as she passed.
And on another day, in another reality, maybe Maria would have smiled back, or even looked eagerly around her, drunk up these new and fascinating sights — but instead, she kept her eyes on Joarr’s back, her hands spread reflexively against her waist. She had to run. She had to.
Finally Joarr led her into a vaguely familiar-looking room, with a large square table, and a fire crackling at the opposite end. It was the room Maria had met all those orcs in, her very first day here — and even the people looked to be the same. The captain, Lady Norr, Rosa and John, and several more orcs and women whose names Maria didn’t even know. Because she’d been their prisoner, all this time. Because they’d thought she was here tobetraythem.
Every face in the room had turned toward her, but suddenly Maria could only see one of them. Simon, leaning beside Drafli against the nearest wall, his arms folded over his chest. And gods, he was —glaringat her. Frowning at her. Fixing her with the force of his judgement, almost powerful enough to make her stagger on her feet. Condemning her, perhaps even…hatingher.
And in this moment, Maria desperately wanted to lunge for him, to touch him, to beg him to understand — but no. No. He clearly didn’t want that from her anymore. Maybe didn’t even want her anymore.
So Maria held herself still, staring at him, feeling the misery curdle and clang in her chest. “I’m sorry, Simon,” she heard her cracked voice whisper, despite all the others watching, judging. “I’m so,sosorry.”
Something jumped in Simon’s jaw, but he didn’t move, or speak, or even acknowledge that she’d spoken at all. And Maria felt her eyes dropping, her shoulders sagging, her hands clutching against her waist. Defeated. Destroyed.
Something had gently nudged at her shoulder — Baldr, his eyes narrow and dark — and he waved her toward the table, toward the empty space beside Lady Norr. So Maria nodded, and lurched over to sit. Barely noticing as Joarr silently sank down on her other side, while Lady Norr reached to grasp her hand, squeezing tight.
“We gather today to settle what next comes,” said the captain, his deep voice resonating through the room. “Maria, shall you speak your truth to us?”
Maria nodded again, and looked toward the orc with the unnerving eyes who’d questioned her that first day — Nattfarr, his name had been — but he wasn’t even looking at her this time. Instead, he was murmuring something to the scantily clad woman beside him, before glancing back at Maria, brows raised. As if he — they — were just… waiting.
So Maria drew in breath, and spoke. Starting at the beginning, with her father’s unexpected inheritance, her parents’ deaths, the astonishing attentions from a duke. And then the bitter disappointment of her marriage, the casual cruelty, the whispers, the betrayals, the hysteria.
And next, she told of her husband’s new law, and her decision to run. Her letters, her escape, her meeting Simon in the road. The peace she’d found in his arms.
And then, her voice wavering, she spoke of Simon’s kindness. His teaching. Of how she’d learned, and changed, and realized all the mistakes she’d made. How she’d wanted to become someone else. A true Skai.
“And a true Skai would never put other people at risk like this,” she said, her eyes blinking at the table. “They would seek to make amends for what they’d done, and keep their people safe. They would prove” — she swallowed hard — “their loyalty to someone they love. They would seek to cover the shame they’d brought, and bring honour, instead.”
The room had fallen utterly silent, but Maria couldn’t bear to look up again, to risk again finding that disapproval in Simon’s eyes. Even though she’d sought to honour him in this, making no mention of Ulfarr, no suggestion that she didn’t trust Simon to keep her safe. No indication that she was defying him, betraying him, breaking the contract they’d made. Running away with his son.
But maybe the rest of them knew it anyway, judging by the weight of the silence all around, the feel of prickling eyes on Maria’s skin. And when someone finally spoke, it wasn’t the captain, or Simon — but instead, it was Rosa.
“Did you really just say,” she demanded, her voice indignant enough to snap up Maria’s chagrined eyes, “that you singlehandedly set up an entire secretinformation campaignagainst Duke Warmisham, targeting key contacts all across Preia? And no one thought toinformus about thiscrucial development?!”
She shot an outraged look toward John beside her, who was also looking unmistakably peeved. And Maria winced, about to speak, to apologize — but wait, their combined disapproving frowns weren’t directed toward her, but towardSimon.
And when Maria’s eyes finally found Simon’s face, he was — looking at her. Not judging, not condemning. Just… looking.
“We need to make a plan,” Rosa said firmly, her sparkling eyes again fixed to Maria’s. “Godsblessyou, Maria, you’ve just spared us quite possibly an entireyearof work, and dumped that sleazy, shit-eating duke right into our hands. Give us a little while to pull this together, and we’ll meet where, at the northeast tunnel? By noon?”
To Maria’s rising astonishment, Joarr nodded beside her, and then jabbed a sharp-clawed finger across the room, again toward Simon. “You, pack food for mate,” he said, voice clipped. “I no waste time cooking for human, ach?”
Wait, what? Surely Maria wasn’t still Simon’smate, and surely Joarr didn’t mean he was truly comingwithher — right? But now Joarr and Simon were glaring at each other, with something Maria couldn’t at all read passing between them — something that ended with Simon giving a jerky, almost imperceptible nod, and Joarr a smug, satisfied smile.
“Excellent,” said Lady Norr firmly, her hand squeezing against Maria’s. “Who else is going? Baldr?”
Baldr? But wait, he was already nodding too, his eyes flicking an obstinate look toward Drafli’s scowling face. “And we shall need Olarr’s help also,” Baldr added, his gaze sliding to another unfamiliar, craggy-featured orc opposite them. “Gerrard will grant us his aid, ach?”
Gerrard? As in, her husband’s topgeneral?! Maria was feeling truly bewildered now, but the Olarr orc was curtly nodding, and Lady Norr’s mouth had spread into a slow, not-so-nice smile. Her eyes alight on the captain’s across the table, and he smiled too, sharp and wicked.
“Just what we were thinking,” Lady Norr purred. “Now, let’s make a plan, and snag ourselves a duke.”
33
Ashort time later, Maria was ready. Standing in a dark, narrow tunnel, and wearing a heavy pack on her back, sturdy boots on her feet, and a warm cloak over her shoulders.
The supplies had been courtesy of the Skai tailor and storage-room, commandeered under the firm orders of Lady Norr. And as Maria had dressed and packed and submitted to a variety of measurements, she and Lady Norr had continued to work through the plan’s details, until Maria’s head was spinning, caught somewhere between shock and disbelief and sheer, twirling gratefulness.
