“There’s a dining hall to the right of the kitchen,” he says, turning and leaving the library.
I follow him until he enters the dining hall. I continue to the kitchen, once again marveling at the sight.
The sandwich is easy enough to find. Several are wrapped in clear packaging inside one of the refrigerators, labeled in orcish, but the picture on the front helps. I put one in the Reviver, press the button I used earlier, and ten seconds later, the bread looks soft and fresh, the meat inside steaming like it was just sliced. The cheese is slightly melted. I’m not sure what the red and green vegetables are, but they’re chilled and crisp. The Reviver really is a wonderful piece of technology.
Once the sandwich is made, I carry it into the dining hall. It doesn’t look much different from the hallways in the rest of Zrogmul, except there are no paintings. Instead, the walls are lined with old orc weaponry. Swords, axes, and hammers that are too big for me to even pick up. Orcs have weapons much more advanced than this, but according to the old books I’ve read, they prefer more…personalcombat.
King Lix’tuk meets my gaze when I place the sandwich on the table next to him. I’m lost in his dark stare for a moment, wondering if I forgot something. If he’s displeased with me in some way. Strangely, that makes my stomach tighten the way it did when I was standing on the auction stage.
“Are you not hungry? You didn’t eat breakfast either,” he growls.
My stomach flips, then settles. He’s not upset with me. He’s just…concerned?
“Oh, yes, I mean… I didn’t want to assume,” I stutter, looking down.
“That I’m going to feed you? I’m not a fucking human. If you were going to be starved, you’d be in the dungeon.” He points toward the kitchen. “Grab a bottle of grog for me while you’re in there. It’s in the fridge. Looks like liquid gold. It doesn’t go in the Reviver.”
I nod, taking it all in, listening carefully to his instructions. As I turn away, he taps the table.
“No grog for you, little human girl. Try one of the fruity drinks behind it,” he growls. “It’s what the orc girls in the city drink.”
I’m not sure whether I’m being ordered around or taken care of. Maybe both. With King Lix’tuk, those seem to be the same thing, whether I’m a gift or a pet.
I get King Lix’tuk’s grog, grab one of the fruity drinks he mentioned, and return with both drinks and my sandwich. He’s already eating so I take that as permission to do the same. I look at the giant chair next to him, trying to figure out how to gracefully climb up into it. I try turning my back to it and hauling myself up with my arms, but that doesn’t work well. I tryhopping. Eventually, I hang my head and just climb up onto it with no grace whatsoever.
Once I’m seated, I dare a peek up at the king’s face. He’s staring at me with a grin on his face. I huff a little in embarrassment, and he breaks into raucous laughter, wiping tears from his eyes a minute later. I’ll need another stool.
Gathering up what dignity I can muster, I take up the sandwich. “Wow,” I say after my first bite. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you get to eat fresh food like this every day. I only got to eat food like this… well, right before they auctioned me.”
“How much did Lady Frax’mo have to pay for you?” he asks, glancing at me as he takes a deep drink of his grog.
“Twenty-five thousand gold,” I answer, swallowing hard.
It occurs to me that I don’t know if that is a high price or a low one. More money than my family would ever see, certainly. A gold coin in the bank meant you were well off in Troona. Most things cost less than ten coppers.
He chuckles dryly. “We offered to buy young human women for a hundred thousand each. Humans thought the auction would be morefun.”
“That’shorrible,” I declare.
“Yes. They are.” He downs more grog.
I pick up my drink and sip it. It tastes like strawberry agave wine, only sweeter than anything I’ve ever had.
“Whoa,” I say, my eyes widening. “Is this orc wine?”
“No. Some blended city drink,” he says. “Too sweet for most orcs.”
We eat, and I sip more of my drink. It’s stronger than agave wine. Tastes better, too. King Lix’tuk finishes his sandwich while I’m still working on mine, then downs his grog with a burp. I glance at him, and the alcohol makes me giggle before I can stop myself.
“Something funny, little human girl?” he growls.
“No!” I squeak. After a couple more bites of my sandwich, I look up at him. The sandwich is good, but there’s no way I can finish a sandwich big enough for an orc. “So, when you’re not doing… king stuff, what do you do?”
“I eat. I drink. I contemplate. Sometimes I talk to the ghosts,” he grunts. “The rest of the time, I enjoy the peace and quiet.” He side-eyes me. “Or I used to.”
“Ghosts?” I ask curiously.
“The paintings,” he says. “Most of the orcs I know have been dead longer than your parents have been alive.”
