Page 95 of Wed to the Orc Captive

And what was I supposed to say? No? There would never be a ready. There would never be a time when this was better. She was waiting for an answer. “...sure.”

People were shouting, crowds moving toward the circle, a crush. Above the trees, the moon rose.

Vrathgar was jogging back, caught my arm. He nodded respect to Rowena, and she withdrew. Why were they better at talking to each other than I could hope to be? He pulled me to the side, still in eyesight of the wide circle, and looked down into my eyes. “I thought we’d have time,” he said. “To talk.”

I stared up at him, the tired lines of his face. We had been traveling through the woods for days with wounded and a dead monster, and we’d barely spoken at all.

“Annora, what do you want?”

Either I was going mad, or he was. “What?”

“The ones who attacked you. Do you want them dead? You’d said you didn’t, once. I…will honor your judgement.”

Oh. That’s what he’d meant. I shook my head. “I don’t care. …no. No, not dead.”

He nodded. “As for being married to me⁠—"

This was how we were going to discuss this. Barely to the side, beside a tent. “Would you like me to kill someone? No? Just checking. About marrying me…”

“—did you want to stay? With the Drashik? We have…we have made a poor showing. I’d meant to…” He swallowed. Several times. “You have expressed a willingness. To stay physically connected to me. I can offer you some degree of autonomy…” He was pitching a marriage of convenience, sketching a temporary agreement. He was still talking, and bile rose in my throat.

“This keeps you with your people? With the Drashik?” I stared up, brazen, because I’d already hurt myself too much for it to matter. “If they let you marry me by your laws, it saves you trouble, does it not?”

He hesitated, nodded. “...yes.”

“Then yes. It’s settled. I already married you once. Why would I have objections?” The words were a rock in my stomach.

He frowned, touched my brow. I pulled back, but he didn’t react. “You don’t have a fever,” he said. “The journey has been difficult. You’re tired. You get angry when you’re tired, yes?”

I got angry when a lot of things happened, and very few were connected to being tired.

He paused, still frowning at me, started to speak.

A voice rose above the rest, chanting, a call.

He shook his head, drew me back. “I will talk to you later, if all goes well.”

My stomach clenched. If.

People parted for us, letting us through to the circle’s edge. Some faces were appraising, some hostile. One child made a feral expression, lolling her tongue out. I didn’t want to look at the adults. I didn’t want to think about being weighed by them, about how sorely I’d be found wanting.

The chieftains were already inside that wide circle, speaking. There were more of them than the last time, a broad man joining, a woman with beads in her hair. Rowena came up beside me to offer me her power, and I pulled away from her hand, shook my head. She looked worried, like she was going to argue, but she drew back.

Why understand when I couldn’t speak?

Drazha raised her arms, announcing whatever business. Tyralk produced the trophies from the creature that our party had dragged back along with our wounded, discussions I didn’t need to follow. I had almost managed to take my mind away, when Vrathgar stepped into the circle to speak.

I didn’t need to understand. I shouldn’t want to.

When Sareet charged in to challenge, Larrakh stepped into the middle, the young woman who’d helped drag me into a pit and then spent weeks at my side. Now she shouted, pointed. Pointed at me. I was a thing that could be pointed to. She turned to the chieftains, and went down onto her knees.

There was a murmur, and a silence, and then another of Sareet’s band joined her, then another. Not all of their number, it seemed, maybe half. Drazha and the other leaders were arguing among themselves, and then spoke. Sareet bowed, fury in her face, and stormed out of that ring. Larrakh slumped forward, planted on the earth. Vrathgar reached out a hand, to help her up.

I knew when the trial was for me because everyone was staring.

That wasn’t new. The only nice thing now was that when they murmured, it didn’t matter, because I wouldn’t understand.

Balnoc, his promised supporter from the Droth, was absent. Vrathgar held out his hands, supplicating.