“Me either,” he huffs.
“Any updates about the women on the ship?” I ask hesitantly.
“They’re not infected with anything. They all appear to be clean and healthy,” he growls. “I had them moved to a hotel, but they’re still quarantined for now.”
“A hotel sounds better than a dungeon,” I admit.
King Lix’tuk mutters something, but I can’t hear it. I don’t ask him to repeat himself because the screen flickers to life. I’ve seen a few presidential addresses before, but never live. Sometimes the mayor in Troona would show the replays and people would stop by during the day to watch them. This speech seems more important than any of those.
There’s a podium with the presidential seal. There are reporters in the room. I’m not sure if they’ll get to ask questions, but there are a lot of them. After a few minutes, President Highton walks to the podium. He’s wearing a suit, just like he always does. He doesn’t look much different than he did in the video we watched on the train when we were brought to Concord City. That feels like a lifetime ago.
“Two hundred years ago, terrible mistakes were made. Mistakes that we’ve paid for time and time again since then,” President Highton begins, his face almost emotionless. “When I was elected, I promised I would do everything in my power to strengthen our ties with Uzrirgard. I believed that was the answer, but even presidents can admit when they’re wrong.”
“He hasn’t done a damn thing to strengthen ties with Uzrirgard,” King Lix’tuk growls. “Today was the first time I’ve spoken to him since he was elected.”
“As you know, part of our penance for the atrocities our nation committed during The Great War requires we pay reparations to the orcs. Reparations in the form of our sons and daughters. That has never sat right with me, and I hoped part of strengthening our ties with Uzrirgard would allow us to negotiate new terms,” President Highton continues. “Instead, I’ve only made things worse.”
“Made things worse? How?” I ask, a little confused.
“I have no fucking idea,” King Lix’tuk grumbles.
President Highton’s emotionless stare twists into a grimace. He closes his eyes, sighs, and takes a drink of water. It looks overly dramatic to me, like he’s just trying to let his words sink in. The orc beside me downs some grog, looking rather impatient.
“The truth is painful, but unavoidable. The orcs have not changed as much as we hoped. Their cities may have advanced. Their weapons may have changed. But their appetite for human suffering remains,” President Highton says, his voice now carrying a slight edge. “They’re still savages who want reparations for something that happened before most of them were even born. When I reached out to try and negotiate new terms, which included an end to the Reparations Auction… well, I’ll just show you what happened.”
President Highton turns his attention to a monitor on his left. The monitor comes on, showing the auction stage. It looks like it did the night I was auctioned. For a moment, nothing clicks, and I just assume it always looks like that.
ThenIwalk out onto the stage. My stomach drops before I understand why. The lights. The stage. The dress clinging to my skin. For one terrible second, I’m back there.
“Oh my god,” I say, my hand flying to my mouth.
“What the fuck is this?” King Lix’tuk snarls.
“It’s the… night Lady Frax’mo bought me,” I whisper.
The video has been edited. I realize that when there are no bids and President Highton’s dubbed voice starts saying that if nobody wants to purchase me, I’ll be sent home so I can spend the rest of my life with my family. All the bidding is silenced. Themen in the audience are clearly bidding, but that part has been dubbed over with something President Highton never said when I was actually on that stage.
“That never happened,” I mutter. “Those men were bidding on me. One of them even asked if I was a virgin.”
But none of that happens. Instead, Lady Frax’mo emerges from the shadows. Her voice has been dubbed over as well. She demands I be turned over to her for reparations, and President Highton reluctantly agrees. The only thing they don’t have to dub over is my terror. My concern. That’s clearly etched on my face, just like it was the night I was sold.
“This young woman’s name is Clover,” President Highton says, the camera focusing back on him. “She is a beautiful girl from Troona, a town very dear to my heart. I was hoping Clover would be reunited with her parents and her two sisters. Beverly and Abigail miss their sister so, so much. But the orcs wouldn’t allow it.”
Hearing President Highton talk about me like that makes me tear up, especially when my parents and sisters are mentioned. But beneath the tears, a rage begins to simmer. Anger. I’ve never felt anything like it before.
“How dare he,” I seethe. “I was never going to be reunited with my family. If Lady Frax’mo hadn’t bought me, one of those men would have.”
“Did Lady Frax’mo really barge into the auction like that and demand the humans turn you over to her?” King Lix’tuk growls.
“No!” I say quickly. “Not at all. She placed a bid that was a lot higher than the rest of them. Nobody tried to outbid her. It was… a transaction.”
“And if our dear sweet Clover wasn’t enough, after I contacted King Lix’tuk to discuss the matter further, I found out that Clover wasn’t the only young woman he wanted,” President Highton sighs, rubbing his temples. “He was angry that I evensuggestedwe find a different way to pay our reparations. So angry that he demanded we send him another hundred women as an apology. He threatened to starve us if we didn’t.”
“Fucking liar!” King Lix’tuk roars, slamming his hand on the table so hard I have to grab my drink.
“Unfortunately, as much as it pained me, I had no choice but to meet his demands,” President Highton sighs, looking down at the podium, doing his best to look horrified. After a few seconds, he raises his head and there’s more determination in his eyes. “But that will be the last time Uzrirgard takes our sons and daughters. The last time we succumb to the whims of savages who hate us for something our ancestors did. We’ve paid for those mistakes long enough.”
“What about food!?” a reporter calls out. “We’ll die if we don’t have food from Uzrirgard.”
