Chapter 27
Clover
I’ve spent all day writing down my thoughts and trying to organize them into something coherent.
There are pages scattered across King Lix’tuk’s desk, half of them covered in crossed-out sentences and words we decided sounded too angry, too weak, or too much like begging. My hand aches from holding the pen, but I keep writing anyway.
I’ve never given a speech before. That’s essentially what this is going to be.
I want to speak from the heart, but I don’t want to leave anything important out.
There’s so much to say, but not all of it matters tonight.
King Lix’tuk helps me trim a few things so I can get to the important points faster.
He doesn’t soften my words. If anything, he cuts away the parts where I try to make myself smaller.
The war council arrives with updates on Concord City.
Things haven’t gotten any better. Humans are still protesting and calling for blood.
President Highton seems eager to let them find out how easily it can be spilled.
If his objective was to work his people into a frenzy so he could start a war, he has their support.
People who have never met me are willing to die in my name. I hope that means they’ll listen to what I have to say.
But first, I have to get ready. I brush my fingers across several dresses, trying to decide on the right one.
I’m starting to care more about my looks.
I doubt I will ever become vain, but I like wearing pretty dresses and styling my hair in intricate braids.
I like it even more when King Lix’tuk notices.
I’m standing in front of a mirror, smoothing a purple satin dress along my midsection when his heavy footsteps approach. I glance back as he walks into the room.
“Are you almost ready?” he asks, looking me over with a nod that seems to indicate he’s pleased.
“Yeah, I think so,” I say, turning around.
“I’ll come get you when it’s time,” he speaks quietly, his dark gaze lingering long enough for me to blush before turning away.
“Okay,” I say, smiling a little as he walks out of the room.
When it’s almost time for me to go live, King Lix’tuk escorts me to a room in the East Wing. I’ve never been inside it before, but there’s a podium with cameras facing it and enough seating for two dozen orcs.
“Is the entire war council going to be in the room during it?” I ask apprehensively.
“They want to be,” King Lix’tuk says. “If you don’t want anyone in the room, I can make them stay outside until it’s over.”
“I don’t want them staring at me the entire time. That will make me nervous,” I admit. “But I’d like it if you were here with me.”
“Then I’ll be the only one in the room,” he reassures me. “Go to the podium. I’ll speak with the war council.”
King Lix’tuk leaves the room. I clutch my notes in my hand and walk to the podium.
As soon as I get there, I realize I can’t see over it.
It’s an orc-sized podium. I move a chair over, but that just makes me look comically tall and tower over the podium.
I’m still trying to solve the problem when King Lix’tuk returns.
“Right, you need a stool,” he chuckles, immediately leaving the room.
He returns a few minutes later with a stool that is the perfect height.
Once I’m standing on it, with my notes in front of me, cameras pointed at my face, everything starts to feel real.
I panic a little, struggle to breathe, and my fingers start feeling numb.
I take a sip of water to try and calm myself.
“Don’t worry about being nervous. You’ve never done this before, so it will look unusual if you’re not nervous,” King Lix’tuk advises sagely.
“You’re not a politician. You’re not a king or president.
You’re just a human girl from Troona who was taken advantage of by the people you were supposed to be able to trust.”
“And we’re sure there will be no complications with that part of my speech?” I ask.
“We have cloaked ships sitting over Troona right now,” he growls. “That was a wonderful idea, and I’ll make sure it happens.”
The idea struck me around midday. I was afraid it would be too late, but King Lix’tuk got it organized fairly quickly. I want people to believe what I have to say, and I think I’ve found a way to ensure it. But I have a lot of important stuff to say before I get to that part of my speech.
“It’s almost time,” King Lix’tuk says, taking a seat in front of the desk, out of the sight of the cameras. “As long as the lights are green, you’re live. The humans will try to block the broadcast once it begins. We’ll hold them off as long as we can.”
“I’ll try to get through it quickly,” I affirm, looking down at my notes.
“If you don’t, we’ll still make sure it’s available,” he growls. “Anyone in Concord City who wants to hear the full speech will have no problem finding it.”
“It’s not just them who need to hear it,” I sigh. “I need all the people in the small towns and settlements to hear it too.”
“They will,” he says. “Once something like this is out there, it spreads fast, for better or worse, as we’ve seen.”
I hope King Lix’tuk is right. I want everyone to hear my speech. From Concord City to Troona and every other town across the sandy landscape. Their future is at stake. If I can’t get through to them, the orcs may become the bloodthirsty savages President Highton accused them of being.
King Lix’tuk gets a notification, then he holds up his hand, counting down the seconds. As soon as the last finger falls, the light in front of me blinks green.
“You’re live,” he mouths.
I take a deep breath, force a smile, and look down at my notes.
“Hello. Most of you may already know who I am, but for those who don’t, my name is Clover,” I say, my stomach a nervous wreck.
“I’m originally from Troona, but I currently live in Uzrirgard.
President Highton felt compelled to tell my story, but most of what he said wasn’t true, so I’d like to set the record straight. ”
I glance at King Lix’tuk and he gives me a nod, like he approves of what I’ve said so far. That makes me feel a little better. At least I didn’t fumble the introduction. But there’s a lot more for me to say, and I want to get as much out as I can before we lose the broadcast.
“I’m second-born, which means my future was decided for me the moment I was born, long before I was old enough to understand what that meant. President Highton wants you to believe the orcs are the ones stealing our futures. They aren’t.
I and my family, lived in a tiny shack without any clean water, with barely enough food to keep us alive, wearing rags and working the cactus fields.
Meanwhile, Concord City has so much water they use it for fountains, decoration!
There’s so much food there, they throw away enough in one day to feed all our poor towns for a month.
Most of you will never get to drink that water or eat that food.
Our futures belong to men like President Highton.
Men who stand on stages and pretend second-borns are sacrifices for peace.
The truth is it’s wealthy humans sitting in the audience, bidding on us like livestock,” I continue, my voice getting firmer.
“The orcs rarely buy humans anymore. They no longer require reparations to survive. That debt was paid long before I ever stood on an auction stage. In the last two years, out of all the second-borns who stood on that stage like I did, only two of us were purchased by orcs. Two. If that math doesn’t sound right to you, it shouldn’t.
Because the rest of your sons and daughters weren’t purchased by wolf shifters or demons, either.
Not for many decades. They were purchased by wealthy people who live in Concord City to be kept as slaves. ”
I glance at the statistics on my paper. I’m trusting them as much as King Lix’tuk is trusting me, so I hope they’re accurate. I take a deep breath and confirm the light is still green before I continue.
“One of the biggest buyers is Angelina Markston. She’s a senator and owns most of the factories in Concord City.
Those factories are filled with people who are her property.
No rights. No wages. They work eighteen-hour days, seven days a week,” I say, my fingers tightening around the edge of the podium.
“I used to think factories were places people got jobs. I didn’t know they were where second-borns disappeared. ”
I look at my notes again, taking a moment to compose myself.
“Gary Denton owns over three hundred women. Three hundred. And I don’t think I need to tell you why, considering he runs the only legal brothels in Concord City,” I say.
“And I could go on. I could name every senator who owns people like me. Politicians who took an oath to serve our best interests and failed us intentionally. But I don’t think that’s necessary.
If you open your eyes, I think you can see it all for yourself. ”
I pause again, letting it sink in. King Lix’tuk told me to move through my points quickly, but let them breathe, so that’s what I’m trying to do. I’m a nervous wreck. There’s sweat running down my back. But the light is still green, so I still have my audience.
“President Highton isn’t just complicit in this.
He profits from it. When I stood on the stage, he auctioned me personally.
He stood in front of you and turned me into a symbol when it was he who made me tell the men bidding on me if I was a virgin,” I say, my jaw tightening with anger that seems to quell some of the nervousness.
“Angelina didn’t want me. She said I was too pretty to work in a factory, because she knew the men would bid more.
She said that. The video your President showed you was dubbed and edited. It is patently untrue.”
I’ve got most of the unpleasantness out of the way, but I’ve still got a green light, so people are listening. Let’s hope I can convince them that the orcs don’t want their children. That there’s no reason to die with my name on their lips.
“As you already know, I didn’t end up in Angelina’s factories, Gary’s brothels, or some wealthy man’s bed.
I was bought by an orc named Lady Frax’mo.
What you don’t know is that she bought me, for 25,000 gold, as a gift, a companion, for King Lix’tuk,” I explain, taking another deep breath.
“You’ve been taught to fear that name. To fear all the orcs.
But they are not the ones you should fear.
The ones you should fear are the ones who smile from podiums when they beg for your vote, then sell your children behind closed doors you will never be permitted through. They’re the real monsters.”
I was worried the green light would go off before I got to this point, but it hasn’t. That gives me some hope. I might actually get through my entire speech before President Highton can find a way to stop the broadcast.
“When reparations were requested after The Great War, the orcs asked for enough women to avoid extinction. They offered gold in exchange, but they wanted volunteers, not slaves,” I say.
“Our president is the one who wanted us to be auctioned like livestock. He said it would be more fun. Better entertainment. What he really meant was that it would allow him to turn every second-born child into a slave, and a source of massive profit for him and his ilk. Not much has changed since then other than the faces and names of our oppressors.”
King Lix’tuk gestures for me to hurry, so I scan my notes.
“The orcs didn’t only offer gold. They also offered to repair the damage done during The Salting, to restore our soil so we could provide for ourselves.
That offer was refused. Scarcity makes people desperate.
Desperation makes them easier to control,” I assert, leaning closer to the microphone.
“And if you try to escape your fate, they’ll just whip your families in front of you. ”
I look down at my paper, my eyes blurring a little as I think about my family. I shake it off and look up.
“The orcs don’t want a war. They’re not bloodthirsty savages, like President Highton would like for you to believe.
The orcs didn’t ask for the women he sent.
King Lix’tuk didn’t even want me. It’s just considered a slight to the Twelve Gods to refuse a gift.
” I look at him, a half-smile moving the edge of my lips.
“And truthfully, my life here is so much better than it ever was in Troona. Much better than it would have been if I’d been sold to one of the vile men bidding on me. ”
I pause for another moment, realizing how true my words are. So true that I tear up a little, but I quickly blink them away.
“The orcs are not the enemy. They haven’t been since The Great War ended.
As a gesture, and proof that what I’m saying is true, orc ships are currently hovering over Troona, the town I grew up in.
As soon as this broadcast ends, they’re going to repair the soil,” I say.
“They stand ready to repair the soil across the entire country, just like they offered after The Great War. All you have to do… is ask.”
The green light flashes. King Lix’tuk signals that we’re about to lose the broadcast, so I skip to the end.
“President Highton got one thing right,” I say, closing my eyes for a moment before opening them. “No more sons. No more daughters. No more Clovers.”
The light turns red and I let out a sigh of relief, finally letting go of the podium. King Lix’tuk stands and approaches, so I step off the stool, my knees wobbly.
“Is everything okay? I tried to keep my composure, but I know I probably looked nervous. Probably looked weak,” I can feel my throat squeezing with fear, unsure how my speech came across.
“Doesn’t matter. You spoke from the heart.
You told the truth.” He brushes some hair away from my face, his dark gaze meeting mine.
He stares for a moment, looks away like he’s fighting with himself, then immediately looks back.
“You didn’t need to be strong or weak. You just needed to be you. Because you’re…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He cups the back of my head, bends down, and kisses me.