Prologue

“Mara, can you grab that tray?” Earna calls, motioning to the large tin platter filled with fried eggs, bread, and bacon.

She has already picked up a tray of sausages, still steaming from the grill, while Carrow lifts two jugs of piping hot tea.

I take the platter, balancing it in front of me, and step out of the kitchen, leading this small procession of kitchen staff.

“Are you sure this is enough food?” Carrow asks, hurrying beside me. His wide linen trousers swish with every long step he takes.

I try to shrug, but the food I’m carrying is heavy, so I settle for a quick shake of my head. “They’re humans, not orc. Besides, they came in unannounced, so they can hardly expect a feast without notice.” I blow a strand of hair from my eyes, then add, “I’m certain Earna will serve them cake if we run out of sausages and eggs.”

The older cook spears me with a glare. “Hush, now. That cake is for kitchen staff only. Don’t make me regret showing you where we stash it.”

I grin at her, and she huffs, mollified. I would never give away her secret—one that not even the king knows about. The kitchen staff are a tightly knit group, and since they work tirelessly to keep the clan fed and happy, they more than deserve little treats like that.

When I took up the position as steward of the Hill, I made sure to make friends with them, and slowly, they accepted me into their fold. The secret cake stash had been the last step of their trust, and I take that very seriously.

The great hall isn’t as crowded as it is at mealtimes, and I’m grateful for it because I don’t have to weave between fellow clansfolk who might want to steal bread rolls off my platter. They’re an ever-hungry bunch, but this tray is meant for the king’s unexpected guests.

I swallow a worried sigh, not wanting to alert the others that anything might be amiss. The truth is, Gorvor had known that the Duke of Ultrup might send an emissary, but we didn’t expect one so soon.

If trouble is brewing in the human kingdom, we might have to shore up our defenses. It’s warrior work to protect the clan, but it’s my duty to make sure the larders are full and our people are well taken care of through the long winter.

The entrance to the parlor off the great hall looms in front of me, and I quicken my steps, suddenly wishing to get this over with as soon as possible. I’ll greet the guests, serve them food, then run quickly down to the cellars to check if the last shipment of goods has been properly stowed away. The last thing we want is food going bad because it’s?—

A whiff of a scent teases my nose, and I snap my head up in surprise. It’s the most appealing thing I’ve smelled in my life, a spicy, woodsy scent mixed with hints of leather and sweat.

My feet carry me forward, and suddenly, I’m stepping over the threshold of the parlor. It’s full of people—orcs and humans—and I can’t find what I’m looking for…

I inhale deeply, my body recognizing what’s happening before my thoughts catch up.

Where is he?

My gaze hops from one orc to the next, searching for the source of the elusive, delicious aroma that’s telling me I’ve finally found him , but all I see is my clansmen, Gorvor, Marut, Ozork—all males I’ve smelled a thousand times before without reacting to their regular, unimpressive scents.

Then a flash of gold catches my eye.

No, not gold—it’s pale hair, long and mussed, glinting in the torchlight. It belongs to a man who stands half a head taller than the others in his group—but he is decidedly human .

My nostrils twitch as I draw in one more shallow breath. Then his gaze meets mine, and I know.

It’s him—impossibly, incredibly—the man I’ve been waiting for my whole adult life.

A human.

Oh. Oh, no .

The tray slips from my nerveless fingers. Food splatters on the floor, on my dress, and the edge of the metal tray slams onto my boot, the pain sharp and sudden.

The most handsome man I’ve ever seen starts toward me, his hand outstretched as if he could stop the disaster from across the room.

But I can’t . Not like this.

A choked sob works its way from my throat, and I blink, finally free from the Fates’ spell.

Then I turn on my heels and flee, leaving the mess behind.