Chapter 33
Lix’tuk
I’ve been looking forward to and dreading this day for quite some time.
Tonight, I will return to Uzrirgard.
We’ve done everything we can to help the humans.
We’ve repaired the damage done during The Salting.
We repaired all the infrastructure in Concord City that was damaged during the revolution.
We helped them establish a new government.
They voted on a New Constitution and filled their House of Freedom with representatives.
I wouldn’t say I consider them allies, but I no longer consider them an enemy. There are good and bad humans like there are good and bad orcs. I guess that’s one thing we have in common in this world. I’ve never met a bad wolf shifter or a good demon.
If the Twelve Gods are real and my deeds and misdeeds are weighed on the Cosmic Scales like the stories say, I’m not sure which one will dip lower.
Sometimes, shades of gray make decisions complicated.
War makes them more complicated. Grief sours your soul like I once believed a human would sour my bed.
But Clover isn’t sour. She tastes like the salt of my mistakes and the sweet reward of learning to breathe again. She’s the only thing I want to breathe. I’d give up my crown, if that’s what it took to have her in my arms every night.
So, I’m doing something selfish. Something for me. Something that will add enough bad to the Cosmic Scales to send me to the underworld instead of Valhalla.
“Y-you’re here,” Clover whispers as she walks into the bedchamber. She looks at the suitcases on the bed. “And everything is packed.”
It’s been days since I’ve seen her pretty brown eyes. I watch her sleep sometimes. Sit beside the bed, wrestling with a decision that was made the night she trembled in my throne room. I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Yes,” I growl. “I’m leaving tonight.”
She looks down, her eyes clouded with conflict. I understand why. We love each other, but it’s the kind of complicated that isn’t fair to either of us. We can satisfy needs. We can’t have the kind of intimacy we deserve.
“I guess that means we’re going to have to fight about this again,” she sighs.
“No, we’re done fighting about it. I’ve made my decision,” I respond firmly, voice gruff.
“Okay,” she says, stiffening her back. “If the decision is that you’re leaving me behind, then don’t waste your breath.”
“That depends on you, Clover,” I reply, reaching into my pocket and clutching a wooden box in my hand. “I’m going to let you decide.”
Before she gets a chance to emphatically tell me she’s already decided, I drop to a knee. I bow my head respectfully, open the box, and look up at her.
Her eyes light up with an emotion I’ve never seen before when she sees the ring. The diamond is mined from the earth near Troona and is slightly green because of The Salting. The band is mithril blended with one of the stones from my throne room in Zrogmul. It gives it a golden shimmer.
“Are you…” she gasps, her lips moving, but no words coming out.
“Asking you to sit by my side in my throne room? Asking you to share my burdens. All of them,” I say, smirking and huffing slightly. “Yes, Clover. I’m asking you to be my queen. My wife.”
“Oh, uh, um,” she stammers. “Is that even allowed? Can a human be… your queen?”
“If I say you can be my queen, you can be,” I assure her with some force in my tone. “I’m the king. My word is law. But I can’t make the decision for you. You still have to say yes.”
She swallows hard and nods furiously. “Yes! Oh, yes! Absolutely!” she squeals, throwing her arms around me.
“Mmmpphh, hold on, you’re supposed to let me put the ring on you first,” I grumble, holding her with one arm.
I manage to pull the ring from the box while she’s still clinging to me.
Her hand is shaking when I take it, but mine isn’t much steadier.
I’ve worn a crown for centuries, through peace, war, funerals, and two hundred years of loneliness, but sliding the ring onto Clover’s finger still makes me tremble.
Finally, she pulls back and looks at the ring. Then at me. If I wasn’t already certain this was the only decision I could make, then her smile confirms it. It’s never been bigger. Almost ear-to-ear.
Then the smile vanishes and she looks troubled. Her pretty brown eyes cloud over with concern. She drops her hands and puts them behind her back.
“What’s wrong? You’re not getting cold feet already, are you?” I ask, my chest tightening.
“No, I’m going to have the warmest feet in Uzrirgard on our wedding day,” she mumbles. “If you don’t make me give you the ring back after I tell you this.”
“Okay,” I meet her eyes, putting an arm around her. I guide her over to the bed and I move a suitcase out of the way so we can sit down. “Tell me.”
“I did something. Something you’re going to be angry about,” she says hesitantly. Some tears dampen her lashes, and I move the hair out of her face. “I had a plan. A way to make sure you didn’t leave me behind.”
“Clover,” I sigh, my body tensing with concern. “What did you do?”
“I fixed the problem. The reason we can’t be together,” she says, wiping her eyes. I reach for a tissue and dab away the tears, my concern growing with every word. “I went to a doctor. The best one in Concord City.”
“Tell me you didn’t,” I growl, my hand going to her stomach. Panic hits so hard I stop thinking. I tear the front of her dress open, needing to see for myself, and she jerks away, clutching the ruined fabric around her waist.
“I didn’t have the surgery! I just went to the doctor,” she shouts, slapping my hands away and pulling the torn fabric around her waist. “There’s another way.”
“When I got down on one knee, I knew what it meant. Do I want you? More than I want my next breath. If we can only ever be together in the ways we have been so far, then I’d rather have that than not have you at all.”
“You can have me any way you want me,” she whispers meeting my gaze.
“You didn’t have the surgery, though,” I let my confusion leak into my voice, glancing at her stomach again. “Did you have some other kind of procedure?”
“Not exactly,” she hems. “Just an injection. I jabbed myself a month ago, and from what I can tell, I’m still here.”
“An injection?” I snarl, looking at her arms. “What kind of injection!?”
“Calm down. It’s perfectly safe. It’s from a clinical trial that was conducted before the revolution. Not only did I read every page of the research, but I also had Lady Frax’mo put me in touch with the best reproductive specialist in Uzrirgard.”
“Lady Frax’mo knows about this!?” I snarl, my voice getting louder.
“That’s the opposite of calming down,” she chides, still holding her ground.
Ironic, since a queen should never cower, but I haven’t made her one yet.
“When I explained what it was to Lady Frax’mo, she was more than happy to help.
In fact, we may be… friends. Sort of. I’m not sure.
But regardless, it’s safe. Your best scientists confirmed it.
They said some of the stem cells might even make my skin so healthy it glows. ”
“Your skin does have a different color,” I admit, trying to force my anger to recede. “I thought you were getting more sun.”
“I don’t tan; I burn,” smiling through her tears.
“Okay, what does this… injection do?”
“Well, according to you, humans have weak wombs. Too weak to ever carry your baby,” she explains, staring into my eyes. “But when we get married? Mine will be the strongest one in Uzrirgard. That’s not an exaggeration.”
It’s my turn for my lips to tremble when I try to speak. “But that still doesn’t mean you would be strong enough, and it’s not worth it, just because of some prophecy,” I mutter, shaking my head. “It still takes a toll. And if something happened to the baby…”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I know you’ve been through this more times than anyone should ever have to.
I haven’t counted the tombstones, but I know even one is too many,” she sighs, pulling my hand to her stomach.
“I’m not asking you to believe in a prophecy.
I’m asking you to believe in me. If I’m going to be your queen, you have to. I need you to.”
I look down at my hand on her stomach, emotions rushing through me. Some are violent. Some are horrific. Some are as tender as the woman beside me. I blink when I feel my own tears, keeping them away.
“Okay, little human girl,” I sigh. “If there’s one thing in this world I believe in, it’s you.”
“Thank you,” her voice is breathy as she wipes her eyes again and leans against me.
I hold her in my arms, processing everything. Coming to terms with what it means. I’m in my final days, but there are plenty of them left. Enough for me to live.
An heir would silence all the orcs who believe Uzrirgard will fall when I take my last breath. Turn their panic into adulation. My kingdom isn’t ready to leave prophecies in the past. Maybe after a few more generations of peace, things will be different.
“This injection…” I say, glancing down at her. “How long does it take to work? Do you have to keep taking them?”
“No, I only had to take one. It takes a month to start working,” she replies.
I blink a few times. “You said you jabbed yourself a month ago?”
“Yes,” she laughs. “I told you I had a plan to make sure you didn’t leave me behind.”
“Quite a plan,” I admit, everything clicking together. “So, we can… right now?”
“We could,” she hums.
I don’t hesitate for a moment. I turn her on the bed and my hands go to her legs. I start pushing them open when she shifts and places a foot on my chest.
“No, I said we could. Not that we’re going to,” she warns, smiling and biting her bottom lip.
“Why?” I might be whining. “Do you need to see the doctor again or something?”
“No, King Lix’tuk,” she laughs. “But if you want me, you have to take me home.”
“We’ll leave immediately,” feeling positively giddy, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the bed as I stand.
“Wait, what about our stuff?” she says, glancing back as I tug her toward the door.
“Fuck it,” I rumble. “I have everything I need.”
Clover is mine. Not because I bought her. Not because she was given to me.
Because she chose me.
And tonight, I’m taking my queen home to claim what is mine.