“Oh. Back home, people rarely befriend second-borns. Sometimes we felt like outcasts.” I sip my drink and take the last bite of my sandwich. “I only had one friend, really. Rose.”
“Another second-born?” he asks, standing from the table.
“Yeah. She was auctioned the same night I was,” I say, following him back to the kitchen. I lean against the counter while he gets another bottle of grog. “I don’t even know what happened to her.”
He removes the cap from the grog and takes a sip. “Do you think you would feel better if you knew? Or is not knowing more comforting?”
“Um,” I say, looking down and bending my fingernail against my bottle. “Honestly, I’m scared to know.”
“The warriors who never made it home never received proper rites to be returned to our sacred earth. Those ghosts haunt me more than the rest,” he says, sipping his grog.
I wince at that. “I guess that’s one good thing about not knowing many people.” I force a half-smile. “Fewer ghosts.”
“Perhaps,” he growls, walking toward the door. “Entertain yourself for a while. I’ll find you when it’s time for dinner.”
And with that, he’s gone. I’m alone again. Buzzed. Unsure what to do with the rest of my day. I’ll probably have a lot of days like this between nights at the foot of the orc king’s bed.
I sip my drink while I wander around, getting a little more buzzed. I’m careful not to drink too much at once, so I see most of the paintings in one of the long hallways before I finish it. I’m not sure if it counts as meeting King Lix’tuk’s ghosts, because I don’t even know their names.
Maybe one day, after I’ve been here for a while, I’ll actually be able to read a few words in orcish. Although I doubt King Lix’tuk will be as interested in helping me learn as my mother was.
Eventually, I end up in the library again. It may become my home away from home. There are so many books. So many words. Entire worlds waiting to be discovered. Including the one I grew up in. I’m realizing I never knew as much about it as I believed.
I’m reading a book about the early days of Concord City when the door opens, and King Lix’tuk walks into the library.
“At least you’re not hard to find,” he growls.
“Is it time for dinner?” I ask, looking up at him.
“Almost,” he says, sipping a nearly empty bottle of grog in his hand. “By the time you finish reviving it, I’ll be ready for more grog.”
He turns and walks out of the library, staggering just enough for me to realize he’s not entirely sober. If he’s been drinking grog since lunch, he’s probably as drunk as Rose’s dad used to be most nights. I doubt orcs are sad, mopey drunks. Hopefully they’re not angry drunks.
I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
CHAPTER 13
Clover
Dinner is a slab of meat I’ll never finish and a pile of fresh vegetables.
King Lix’tuk is still drinking grog. I’m having water, since I don’t think I should have anything that strong very often. I don’t have a buzz anymore, but I can still feel the lingering effects of it. The strawberry drink is a lot stronger than agave wine.
After a few bites, I glance over at the orc devouring his meal.
“This food is incredible, but the fork and knife are a little but big,” I say, looking at them in my hands.
I have to grip the knife with both hands to cut through the meat, which makes King Lix’tuk chuckle into his grog.
“They’re not that difficult to use,” he rumbles. “You’ll get used to them.”
“I think I can manage,” I say, carving off some meat.
“What books did you read today?” he asks flatly, taking a big bite of meat.
“I flipped through a lot of them,” I say, the library’s scent still lingering beneath the aroma of the hearty meal. “I read one by a man who really didn’t like you.”
“Alexander Pinner,” he says, his lip twitching before he stuffs more meat between his tusks. “My biggest human critic once upon a time. Thing about critics and kings? We outlive most of them.”
