“Yes, Your Majesty,” she murmurs, lowering her head respectfully.
“I’ll let you know as soon as we figure it out,” Lord Frax’mo says, gesturing for his wife to follow him.
I could let them deal with it, but something doesn’t feel right. If today is the day we send food to the humans, then they should have sent all their ships. Not one. And why wouldtheysend food? They barely have land that can grow it. They use their food crisis to justify the auction.
I stand up from my throne and start stomping down the steps. “I’ll be right behind you. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“It’s definitely unusual,” Lady Frax’mo hurries to agree.
“Move the human ship to quarantine until we figure this out,” I order. “No one gets off that ship, and no orc gets near the food or the humans until I know what the fuck this is. Not a word about this beyond the Lords and Ladies.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lord Frax’mo bows and hurries ahead.
I’m naturally distrustful of humans. I’ve seen them at their worst. I’m not sure what this is, but they didn’t send a boat filled with food and women on a whim. There has to be a reason. I sure as fuck hope I haven’t been betrayed. I tolerate the Lords and Ladies more than my father did, but if one of them has done something to jeopardize the peace, then I will not show them any mercy when they face my judgment.
I can mark Lord Frax’mo off the list. I saw how shocked he was when he got the notification. Saw the panic in his eyes. But his wife? That could be a different story. She could have arranged this, especially since she had recent dealings with the humans. I didn’t even know she was going to attend that auction. Normally word would be sent in advance if orcs are attending.
After Lord and Lady Frax’mo’s ship is in the air, I stomp down the hallway to my bedchamber. This formal armor isn’t suitable for traveling. It’s barely suitable for sitting on my throne. I quickly remove it and put on my regular armor, my finger tracing the coffee stain still visible on the leather.
The stain should annoy me, but it doesn’t. Clover cleaned it the best she could. There’s just enough left for me to remember how it got there. I hate to admit it’s become a somewhat pleasant memory. I don’t have many of those.
I’m not sure where Clover is, but the library is the best place to start. The doors open and I see her sitting at the table, still trying to learn orcish. She’s able to read some basic sentences now, but it’s a difficult language. I sure as fuck wouldn’t want to have to learn it if it wasn’t my native tongue.
“King Lix’tuk!” she exclaims, glancing at the clock. “It’s not time for lunch, but we can have it early if you want. You didn’t finish your breakfast.”
“I have to leave,” I try to keep the anger out of my voice. It’s not her fault this nonsense is happening. “There’s a problem.”
“Leave? You never leave.” Her eyes widen with concern.
“That should tell you how big the fucking problem is,” I complain, turning away and stomping toward the door.
“Wait, may I come with you?” she asks sheepishly.
I stop and let out a sharp exhale. She’s been cooped up in Zrogmul for months. The grounds outside the fortress aren’t really suitable for walking or hiking. The only time she’s had any fresh air is when we’ve gone up to the roof at night. I’m used to this tomb, but she isn’t.
“Fine. Let’s go. Now.”
I continue to the door and it opens for me. I don’t slow down my pace, because I know Clover can catch up if she runs. She finally does when I get to the door that leads to the bottom half of Zrogmul.
“I’ve never seen what is on the other side of this door,” she says. “It doesn’t open for me.”
“It doesn’t need to,” I mutter, stepping close enough for it to recognize me and slide open. “Unless you know how to pilot a ship.”
“Umm, no,” she responds apprehensively and unnecessarily, following behind me.
The door opens to a staircase that takes us down to my private garage. It’s been a long time since I’ve piloted a ship, but it’s one of those things you never forget. When I was traveling regularly, I had a pilot who was always available. I sent him away, just like all the others, when I chose to spend my final days at Zrogmul.
“Whoa, you have a lot of ships!” she says when the door opens to the garage.
“Most of them are relics that I just never sent to the scrapyard,” I toss my answer over my shoulder, striding past several ships before I get to the newest one. “This one has never even been inthe air. They brought me the first one off the assembly line, but I’ve never had a need for it.”
There’s a tablet that allows me to access the ship. It’s still on the table where they left it the day they brought it to me. I pick it up and tap the screen. That opens the doors and lowers the ramp. I gesture for Clover to go up the ramp and follow her.
“Anywhere in particular I should sit?” she asks, looking around.
“You can sit beside me,” I gesture to the seat when I get to the front of the ship. “That way I can keep an eye on you.”
“I won’t touch anything,” she promises.
