Page 48 of Wed to the Orc Captive

She was gone.

“She liked you,” Vrathgar said, still cold.

“How?”

“That’s the most sentimental I’ve seen her.”

Khal sighed. “That’s not true.”

Rowena was still staring at Vrathgar. “How are you standing?”

“I…don’t know.” He rolled one shoulder, tested the leg. “It feels like an older wound.”

“If it’s the medicine not wearing off yet, you shouldn’t push it.”

He nodded, a frown still etched across his face.

“My mother is right about one thing,” Khal said, quiet. “If you’re able, you should take her home.”

Vrathgar inhaled, tested his arm, that leg. “That makes sense. I shouldn’t trouble you longer.” He did not look at me.

Zhana, Tyralk’s mother, was speaking, and as they went into Orcish I was left out again. She waved towards me.

Vrathgar spoke. “She’s worried about your dress. She’s offering you something to wear.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want to walk through the enclave reeking of blood?”

I flinched.

“Wait,” said Rowena. “I’ll get something. Please. Wait.”

When she returned, it was with a bundle of blue cloth.

I washed in the dim backroom, handfuls of water and a soap that smelled like pine tar. It was such a relief to get the blood off my skin that my throat got tight. The smell coming off my old dress was terrible. I wondered if I’d ever get the stain out, what had happened to the cloth the town had given me, if I could bargain for needles, how quickly I could sew something else. In the room beyond the curtain, voices rumbled.

“Rissa's party is back.”

“Just what we needed. More of an audience.”

“But that means Larrakh will be with us. She's blooded now. She can bear witness.”

“I am not dragging down your baby cousin.”

“You are not dragging down anyone.”

“Don't call her the baby cousin; she's older than me.”

“Yeah, and you're a smaller baby, Tyralk.”

I was clean. The dress laced up, snug.

“Hagmar found your effects in the forest. He brought them to the cabin.”

“Sounds like him.”

I pulled aside the curtain.