“She’s not a spy,” King Lix’tuk cuts in. “I trust her as much as I trust every orc sitting at this table.”
The war council doesn’t like that. They start muttering angrily under their breaths. It even catches me by surprise. I mean, I think King Lix’tuk trusts me. I haven’t lied to him since I got punished for it. But hearing him say it out loud, with that much conviction, tightens the determination inside me.
“King Lix’tuk can’t get through to the humans. They won’t listen to him,” I say, glancing over at him with a faint smile. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. I think you know that.”
“Yeah,” he admits begrudgingly.
“But if they’ve turned me into a symbol, then let me be one,” I offer, looking around the table. “If you can hack their broadcast, then do it. Letmetalk to them.”
“And say what?” Lord Frax’mo’s voice is shrill, sounding offended by my suggestion.
“The truth,” I reply. “They’re chanting my name in the streets. They’re painting it on signs. If they think so damn much of me now that they’ve sold me, then let me tell them who is really responsible for all the evil they’re blaming on orcs.”
The war council exchanges a few glances. A few whisper to each other, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. King Lix’tuk sips his coffee. I can’t tell what he thinks of my plan.
“I don’t like this at all,” Lord Frax’mo shouts, turning to King Lix’tuk. “What if she doesn’t follow the script? What if she says something that makes this worse?”
“If the only thing she tells is the truth, then she doesn’t need a script,” King Lix’tuk shuts him down fast. “Maybe we’ve played the propaganda game for too long. It was never our way. We brought that home with us after The Great War, just like the technology we adapted to suit our needs.”
“Most of it was for their benefit,” Lady Ushug says, pointing at me.
“Yes, because we no longer gave a fuck what happened on their side of the world,” King Lix’tuk reminds her. “As long as we gotenough human women to avoid extinction, we didn’t care how they framed it. Now, I’m seeing that was a mistake. We allowed generations of hatred to fester.”
“Are you saying you no longer hate humans?” Lord Frax’mo asks incredulously.
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” King Lix’tuk snarls and Lord Frax’mo looks away. “I’m talking about their hatred, not ours, but we’re as much responsible for this as they are. If we launch a preemptive strike, we’re just playing right into it. Proving we’re the savage villains President Highton made us out to be.”
“You’re actually considering it. Letting her talk to them?” Lady Sharog asks.
“I haven’t heard any better ideas from my so-called war council,” King Lix’tuk’s tone is contemptuous, looking around the room.
“You’re the king,” Lord Frax’mo says bitterly. “If this is the direction we’re going, then you have the final say.”
“Make the arrangements,” King Lix’tuk says, pushing himself up from the table. “We’ll do it tomorrow night when most of the humans with televisions will be staring at them.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lord Frax’mo replies, but he doesn’t look happy about it.
The humans have used my name to start a fire that doesn’t need to burn. Maybe my voice can choke the lie before it spreads. They’re the ones who gave me one. I was just another second-born that nobody gave a damn about. They probably think I’ve been whipped and broken by the orcs.
Tomorrow night, they’re going to see how wrong they are.
CHAPTER 26
Lix’tuk
I can barely keep my eyes open when I finally make it to my bedchamber.
It feels like I haven’t seen my bed in a week. That may not even be an exaggeration. The days and nights are all blurring together. I haven’t been this exhausted since The Great War.
“I’ll help you remove your armor,” Clover offers, walking up behind me.
“I can manage,” I huff, fumbling with the leather straps.
“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help,” she insists, pushing my hand away.
I let out a long sigh and get her help. She removes my armor, carefully placing it on the rack where I keep it, and pulls me toward the bed. I don’t fight that either. I brace myself with a hand, then just collapse against the pillow, the mattress feeling better than it ever has.
“It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to sleep beside you that it feels like you’ve become one of the ghosts in Zrogmul,” she sighs, reaching down to remove my loincloth.
