Chapter 2
Rychell
My heart leaps. I’m pulling Nate away from the doorway before I realize it’s Halvard, not some giant miscreant here to cause trouble.
“Oh, Halvard.” I wave him inside. “Sorry, the sun was at your back. I didn’t see you properly at first.”
“No worries, Rychell.” The orc’s voice is deep and smooth. “How are you, Nate? Getting excited for your birthday?”
“I am! I’ll be eight!” Nate stomps around the room, chanting the number.
Halvard grins. He’s an orc, so of course he takes up a whole lot of space with those broad shoulders, powerful chest, and those arms… I swallow and force my eyes to his face so I can smile and stop ogling him. I have no desire for an affair.
“How can I help you, Halvard?”
He rubs his bearded chin; his hair is a sandy brown that is almost a ginger shade.
The light catches the ring pierced through his lower lip.
I wonder why he pierced his lip. I haven’t seen such a piercing on other orcs.
His tusks—I think that’s what one calls them—reach about three inches above his mouth.
Do they making eating and drinking difficult? I would think so. Kissing would be—
“…but that’s the reason for my visit,” he says.
I realize that I missed his answer. Damn it. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had my tea yet this morning. Can you repeat that?”
His green lips pull into a grin, and one of his eyebrows lifts slightly. “I understand that. I was up until two this morning with Cyrus’s poker crowd.”
I shake my head and smile. “He’s incorrigible.”
“That should be his name, really.”
I laugh. “Do you want some tea?”
Nate is still chanting “Eight!” but thankfully, he is doing it at a whisper level as he marches back and forth between us.
“I’d love some if it’s no trouble,” Halvard says.
I pad back into the kitchen, fill the kettle, and light the stove. Nate’s and Halvard’s voices carry through the house.
“Have you stayed with Mistress Kaya before?” Halvard is asking Nate.
“No, but she likes me, so it’s okay. Did you hear that her oldest cat can talk now?”
“It’s wild!”
I smile at Halvard’s sweet enthusiasm.
“I want a talking cat,” Nate says. “I hope he talks to me while I’m there. We don’t have any pets because we travel too much. But sometimes Mistress Laini lets Spark come over.”
“Has the dragonfox ever set anything on fire here?”
“Just a linen napkin, but it was old, so it wasn’t so bad.”
I chuckle and bring the tea tray out. We sip quietly while Nate disappears into the kitchen, and from the sound of it, he starts eating his apple again.
“He chews as loud as a horse,” I whisper.
“I am sure I’m no better.”
“Is it the tusks?”
His eyebrows lift, and my face goes hot. I shouldn’t have asked that.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “That was rude. I’m too curious for decent company.”
“Ah, I don’t mind questions. Aye, the tusks do tend to make me a bit more animal in some ways.”
The sparkle in his eye tells me he isn’t only talking about his meals and how he takes them. I swallow and take another sip of tea. It’s a bergamot and cinnamon black tea blend, and it’s divine. The scent calms me.
Halvard sips from his cup and hums in appreciation. “As I was saying the other day, I’d be happy to escort you on your trip to the coast. Cyrus and Kaya told me you were still planning on going.”
It’s kind of him, but he helps run a pub. He’s not a professional guard or a knight. But maybe the sheer bulk of him would keep most thieves, and as Nate would call them ruffians, at bay.
“All right,” I say. “I insist on paying you, though.”
“You don’t have to. I’m happy to help you, Rychell.”
He says my name like it’s something special, which it’s really not. Rychells are a copper a dozen in the town where I was born, in the human realms. Halvard studies my face with a soft look and then meets my gaze.
“I appreciate that, but I’d rather keep this professional and pay you properly.”
He looks away, and his mouth lifts at one side like he’s fighting a laugh. I narrow my eyes at him, willing him to be serious and not to tease me. He probably can tell I’m physically attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? He’s gorgeous. It means nothing.
With one more glance my way, he nods, and I’m not sure whether reluctance shows in his mannerisms or if I’m imagining that.
“As you wish.”
I fill him in on my business plan and how I want to send Nate to Ivydowns school.
“Plus, I love discovering new spices and sharing them with Kaya. It’s my favorite part of the work.
So you see, I need to keep things tight and tidy, business-wise.
Stay the course and all that.” I take a quick breath and finish my tea.
“I’ll write up a contract and send it to you shortly, all right? ”
His lips pull inward, and he rubs his beard again. “We don’t need a contract.”
“I do. That’s how I like to do business, so there aren’t any possibilities for discord.”
He drinks from his cup. It looks like a youngling’s toy in his big hand. Setting the cup down with a graceful, careful movement that’s surprising considering his bulk, he agrees.
“I’ll do whatever you think is best,” he says.
His voice is smooth as well as low—looking at him, one wouldn’t guess his voice is so pleasant. I would have thought he spoke gruffly because he looks like he stepped out of a cautionary tale about the dark woods.
We settle on a departure time for the morning, then I walk him to the door. He leaves with a smile and a wish for a fine day.
Nate is tugging at my skirts. “He’s a nice orc.”
“He is.”
“I bet he could take on every ruffian in the entire world.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? Did you see his hands, Ma? They’re as big as my whole head!”
My mind paints the image of Halvard’s hand on my arm, his fingers gentle despite their size.
It’s a memory from the last time I went to the pub, and he happened to be there at the door.
He held it open for me and cupped my elbow as I entered.
I take a steadying breath and shake the memory away. So silly.
I ruffle Nate’s hair and shut the door. “Get washed up, now. We have some errands to run before you help me pack the cart.”
While Nate washes, I head out back to our courtyard, which is truly just a patch of tall grass.
The table we use to sell spices at the market is folded and set up against the stable’s outer wall.
Last night’s rain wet the top, so I lift it and haul it under the stable’s sturdy slate roof to dry.
Tamar’s black head appears above the stall door.
The mare nickers and huffs, and I obey the demand by smoothing her hair from her eyes and rubbing her neck.
“Morning, sweetling. Did you eat well yesterday?” On my tiptoes, I peer past her into the stall and see nothing left of the alfalfa I set there for her. “Good girl. We’re leaving tomorrow on a fairly long journey, so let’s keep up that eating.”
She had lost her appetite for a few days there and had me worried.
Delixian, the town healer, said it was only a stomach trouble due to eating starleaf saplings.
The little trees had sprung up at the far corner of the courtyard, and Tamar had nibbled them down before I noticed them.
The trees are perfect for shrub gryphons, but they always make horses ill.
I brush Tamar thoroughly and then let her out into the morning sun. She trots and kicks her heels a bit, enjoying the stretch. She canters up to me and sets her head against mine. I run a palm down her warm, obsidian coat and inhale her nice, familiar scent.
“We will be traveling with an orc. Halvard. He’s a lovely male, but I think he has a crush on me, Tamar. We have to squash that idea. I have no desire for anything like that. Nothing messy.”
Tamar snorts as if she agreed wholeheartedly.
I give Tamar an apple slice from my pocket and say a silent prayer to the Blessed Stones that this trip goes smoothly.