Chapter 13
Rychell
In a room outfitted with pillows shaped like dusk hollows stacked in piles, a little hearth, and three full baskets of yarn, Aila speaks to me like we’ve known one another for ages.
She basically shoves me into another carved, deep-seated chair.
She talks as much and as quickly as my son, but the materials she chooses to chat about are definitely only for adults.
The details of pleasing an orc. What their cocks look like.
How the orcish culture includes introducing a potential mate to at least four family members before claiming.
It all sounds so involved! Mouth never stopping, Aila draws knitting needles from the basket closest to the one long window. She drops into the chair beside me.
“A little advice,” she says quickly. “On the night that you fully mate, make sure you have him run for a while. It’ll help if he is a touch fatigued when he beds you. The first time, anyway.”
She hands me a pair of needles and a ball of blue yarn.
“Aila, I’m not—”
As loud as a pack of young wolves, Aila’s younglings zip past the window on the southern wall, a blur of smiling faces and messy hair. Aila darts over, opens the glass, and shouts, “Don’t let Finlay play in the road, Roderick! Harris! Are you listening?”
The cacophony dies away, and she shakes her head, finding her seat again. “As I was saying, the claiming can vary from couple to couple, but generally orc males want a good three days alone with you, so you’ll need to plan for that.”
“Aila, please.” She doesn’t even seem to hear me.
“The chasing is very exciting though,” she says. “Don’t be afraid. They would do anything for their mates. You’ll always be safe with him. Just for the ease of your first time with him, I suggest making him run. Yes, definitely.”
“Make him run?” I ask, raising my voice. “You’ve mentioned running twice now and chasing. What in the name of the Blessed Stones are you talking about?”
Aila pauses in her knitting and tilts her head. “The orc mating ritual and the chasing instinct.”
“Halvard and I are just friends.”
She narrows her eyes at me and purses her lips. “No, you’re not.”
“Excuse me,” I say, getting a bit riled up now, “but even if you weren’t a stranger to me, you’d have no say in our relationship.”
She blinks, and her wings flutter behind her. They grab the light from the window and fire and scatter sparkling light like stars around the room.
“Halvard has never brought anyone to meet us. I assure you that you two are not just friends.”
“I’m aware that he is attracted to me,” I say, trying to be patient. “I can’t lie; I’m also pulled to him physically.”
“So what’s the problem?” Aila asks. “Is it your human family? Are they prejudiced against orcs?”
“My parents passed away ages ago.”
“Phew, that’s good.”
My mouth falls open.
“Oh,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean it that way. Sorry! I never say quite the right thing, do I? I guess you’re making Halvard court you for longer than most, then? That’s a fine idea. It might even make for a stronger bond when you finally give yourself to him in the woods.”
I toss the needles and yarn onto the chair beside me. “I’m not giving myself to anyone anywhere!”
Aila drops her hands and her knitting into her lap. “You don’t have to yell.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Apologies, but you have to stop talking and listen to me.”
She presses her lips together and gives me a nod.
“Thank you,” I say, feeling like I can finally take a breath and clear things up. “Halvard and I will never mate. I don’t want a romantic relationship.”
“At all?” Aila studies me like I’ve grown antlers.
“My parents were in love, and that didn’t stop them from shouting at one another in anger. Love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” A memory of hiding under the kitchen table and pushing oven mitts against my ears slips through my mind, and I feel sick.
The fairy sets her hand on mine. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Rychell.”
“Thank you. It was ages ago.”
Aila goes back to knitting. “Doesn’t mean the memory can’t cut you deeply.”
I nod and focus on the soft feel of Aila’s fingers on mine. “I adopted a son. He’s been through a lot during his young life, and I want our lives to be peaceful. I don’t want a messy affair, or worse, a bad marriage. Nate deserves peace and stability.”
“Ah, that is lovely of you. How beautiful to take in an orphan and love them as your own. You are perfect for Halvard. Wait,” she says, gaze cutting from her yarn to my face. “I didn’t mean that. Of course, you are friends and that’s it.”
“Yes. I like a simple, tidy life. The only dramas I want in my life are the plays put on by the traveling actors.”
Aila laughs, and it sounds like bells. The beauty momentarily dazes me. I shake my head.
“Oh, Rychell, I can’t wait.”
“For what?”
And she laughs again. Is she suffering from madness? What is going on in this faerie’s head?
The males walk in, offering bread and cheese, so we put our knitting aside—not that I accomplished much; I’ve never been a knitter—and dig in.
“Is there any reason why you won’t consider my cousin here as a mate?” Magnus asks.
I choke on my bite of warm bread, and Halvard hands me a cup of tea from the tray.
“I’m sorry,” Halvard whispers to me. Then he faces Magnus and Aila. “Stop harassing her. I know you mean well, but she isn’t used to our pushy orcish ways. Let’s discuss tonight’s party.”
The firm tone he used makes me feel the same way I did when he dispatched those bloodthirsty thieves on the road. It’s thrilling knowing a friend who is so good to me can stop killers in their tracks and command a room filled with the two most impertinent, albeit kind, folks I’ve ever met.
I grin and finish my tea. “I hope there will be dancing.”
Aila claps her hands and bounces on her chair. “So much dancing! And since you two are friends and don’t have plans to be lovers, Halvard can possibly find a female there. Oh, you should do that. You can move here to Honey Sands, and we can get together like this every other day!”
I realize my mouth is hanging open, so I shut it quickly and look to Halvard. A coiling, nasty sensation is attacking my chest and stomach. I pick up the last slice of cheese Magnus handed to me and give it a sniff. Smells like proper cheese, not mold. Why am I feeling bad suddenly?
“Do they still do the Blind Reel?” Halvard asks, obviously changing the subject. “I’ve never danced it, but I’ve heard it’s fun.”
While Magnus and Aila are discussing who Halvard might dance with, Halvard’s gaze slides to my face, and he mouths So, so sorry. I wave him off.
“Yes, they usually do the Blind Reel,” Magnus answers. “It’ll commence toward the end of the evening.”
Halvard nods. He notices my empty tea cup and refills it. As he does, he looks into my eyes, then at the door. I think he’s asking if I want to leave now. I give him a very subtle nod.
Aila is going on about velvet blindfolds. She gets up and rifles through a drawer in a chest by another door. “They're in here somewhere. Can’t let you go without one. Martha would tease me relentlessly about not being the best hostess to family.”
“Martha is my sister in law. An orc,” Magnus says. “She isn’t as kind to Aila as I’d like. I need to give her a piece of my mind.”
Aila is back and holding two strips of sage green velvet. “I’ll give Martha that mind piece if I choose, Magnus.”
I cover a snorting laugh by lifting my tea cup and pretending to sip. Despite all the fuss, I like Aila very much.
“Take these.” Aila hands each of us one of the velvet strips. “Now you’ll have fine blindfolds for the dance.”
“Is there any meaning to us matching?” Halvard asks.
A warm glow fills my chest because I am certain he is asking, so I won’t be pushed into dancing with him. I do want to dance with him—as friends—but it’s nice to have him backing me up instead of pushing at me.
“No, most will have the same two or three colors,” Aila says.
After a few nearly painful hugs, we leave with our blindfolds and very full stomachs.
“Thanks for introducing me,” I say to Halvard as we walk toward the inn. “Their house is delightful. And they’re both very kind.”
He blows out a breath. “Very obnoxious too.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Maybe a lot.”
I laugh. “Thanks for not pushing me to be your date at the party.”
“Well, I was acting obnoxious like my cousin, and I’ve decided that’s not my style. I won’t bother you about romance again unless you ask me to. But I’ll be waiting for you in the shadows, quiet and steady, if you ever decide to open your heart.”
I swallow and fiddle with the blindfold Aila gave me. “Thank you, Halvard.”
“Of course. I apologize if I was being an arse.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You aren’t an arse. I promise.”
“I nearly choked Osric to death at the inn.”
“But you didn’t,” I say with a wry laugh. “You took it out on your spoon. That’s not so bad.”
“Isn’t it?”
We both laugh. It feels good to be with Halvard like this. Free and easy, with him expecting nothing. I hope Nate grows up to be a good male like Halvard. Brave, wise, humble, selfless when life requires it.