Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

Owen departs soon after, climbing from his bathing pool while I turn around to give him some privacy. He bids me goodbye, and I return the greeting, trying not to stare after him as he disappears into the mist.

It’s high time for me to get out of the water as well, but I remain there for long minutes after, just so I wouldn’t accidentally run into Owen on my way out.

The truth is, we’d both set our cards on the table, and the outcome is exactly as I expected. We would never work in the long run, so it doesn’t make any sense to attach myself to him. If I let myself love him, and he left anyway, whether because of his duty or his own free will, he’d break my heart.

It’s better to keep myself as whole as possible. I’ve survived almost three decades on my own, so it shouldn’t be hard to keep it up in the future.

I avoid the great hall all through the breakfast rush and sneak into the kitchens instead to snag a bread roll from Carrow. But when I arrive there, my friend, who should have been on kitchen duty, is nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, Mara, you’ve missed all the excitement!” Earna wraps me in a tight, rosemary-scented hug. “Our Carrow has found himself a mate!”

I step back from her and grip her shoulders, gawping. “He did? Who is it?”

She lets out a happy laugh and dabs at her eyes with the corner of the apron. “One of the human soldiers. Who would have thought!” She points at the door leading to the great hall. “I think his name is Ian. He’s the one who’s been eating all the food. Don’t know where he puts it, bless him.”

I remember the kind-eyed soldier who shut up his rude colleague. “That’s lovely. How did it happen?”

Earna goes back to the kitchen counter, her hands already busy tying dried spices into little sachets to flavor the soup she’s making for today’s lunch. “Well, I’ve never seen Carrow stutter and stumble so much! This Ian came right to the kitchen door to ask for more pears, greeting us all polite-like. Carrow was standing right where you are, holding a big basket of fresh loaves, that one in the corner there.”

I follow the line of her finger to a basket of bread. Flour is strewn all around it, indicating that Carrow might have dropped it in a hurry.

“I told the soldier to hold on a moment, but Carrow sniffed the air”—she mimes the gesture with her nose in the air, her nostrils flaring—”and jumped right at the poor man.”

I laugh, imagining my friend tripping over the basket, his long limbs flying everywhere. “What did Ian do?”

“Oh, poor lad must have thought Carrow was attacking him.” Earna giggles as she ties off another sachet with a neat bow. “Jumped back in fright. I thought Carrow might burst into tears, he was so sorry for scaring his mate. But we explained it all to Ian, and they left to talk soon after.”

I don’t miss the way Earna waggles her eyebrows at this. If she’s right, my friend dragged his newfound mate right to his bed and is busy convincing him how perfect they are for each other.

Apparently, Carrow doesn’t mind the fact that Ian will be leaving soon—or maybe he doesn’t know that Owen intends to send at least half his soldiers home in a matter of days. A surge of indignation rises in me at the thought.

He cannot separate Carrow from his mate.

I peer through the kitchen doorway, searching the people still lingering at the breakfast tables. “Has Captain Hawke heard about this yet?”

Earna gives me a strange look. “Is that the tall, handsome one, dearie? I think he left with some of his men before it happened. He wasn’t here for the commotion, that much I know.”

“Hmm.” I snag a bread roll from the counter with one hand and a pear with the other. “I’ll have to talk to him about it.”

The head cook pats my hand. “You do that. Clear things up at last.”

I squint at her, wondering at her strange words, but she’s back at work already, shaking dried mushrooms into a large bowl for the soup.

I march right out the door, armed with a newfound sense of anger—not at the captain, exactly, but at this entire situation we’re in. He’s likely the only man I will ever want in life, and he’s leaving in a matter of months . I’ve accepted this and decided not to pursue this thing between us, but Carrow shouldn’t be made to suffer, too. He deserves the world, and I intend to let Captain Hawke know what I think of his plan of sending his men away.

But I have to find him first, which is proving more difficult than I thought.

At first, I ask around for the group of human soldiers who left the great hall with him, but that proves to be a futile pursuit. I find the soldiers at the front gate, discussing scouting strategies with Neekar and Uram, but their captain is nowhere to be seen. The soldiers inform me that he’d accompanied them there to hand them over to Uram, who will be adding them to the watch rotation.

Neekar tugs on my elbow gently and leads me to the side. “Are you all right?”

I stare up at him, wondering what he’s on about.

He nudges my right hand. “It’s just… You’re usually carrying ledgers, not pears. And your hair is, ah, a bit wild. It just made me wonder.”

Damn it, I’d forgotten all about that pear. I’d meant to eat it, as I did the bread roll, but I must have forgotten. That I didn’t brush and braid my still-damp hair is more concerning. Neekar is right—I haven’t been this unkempt in public in ages, but I missed the fact completely.

I rummage in my pocket for some hairpins and braid my hair quickly, a messy job to be sure but better than nothing.

“I’m fine,” I snap at Neekar, then regret my tone immediately when he pulls back, his surprise palpable.

He puts himself between the soldiers and me and leans close, his broad shoulders obscuring their view of us. “Is it them? Are they bothering you? This Captain Hawke you mentioned, is he the problem?”

He looks about ready to find the man and shake some answers out of him, so I grasp his hand quickly and give him a light squeeze. “No, nothing like that. He’s— I just need to talk to him, is all.”

His dark eyebrows climb up. “And the pear?”

I force myself to smile and offer it to him. “You can have it. Sorry if it’s a little warm.”

We both know I’m dodging his questions, and I’m immensely grateful when Neekar decides to let the issue rest.

He takes the fruit from me and gives me another serious look. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

His words settle some of my nervous energy. “Thank you. Do you know which way the captain went?”

“Toward the forges, maybe?” Neekar shrugs. “It’s been almost an hour, though, so he could be anywhere.”

Neekar’s words turn out to be too accurate for my liking. I walk to the forge, where Morg informs me that the captain did stop by, mostly to see how the space is furnished, and asked some questions about the weapons being forged.

“Good man,” our resident blacksmith says while he moves around the space, lifting a fresh batch of horseshoes from the cooling rack and shifting them to the shelf with all the other finished ones. “Knows a lot about swords. His isn’t as good as the ones I make, and he asked how much it would cost if he wanted to order one.”

I narrow my eyes at Morg—but he’s not bragging, just stating a fact. His swords are the best, and if the captain can afford one, it would be an honor for him to wear it.

Unfortunately, Morg can’t tell me which way Owen went when he departed his forge, so I take a chance and try the stables first, but he’s not there, and horses only huff softly at me when they realize I didn’t bring them any apples.

I’m on my way to the library to see if he’d ventured there when I hear voices from around the bend in the hallway. I don’t recognize the orc who’s speaking, yet the human man’s voice is immediately familiar—I’ve finally located Owen. But he’s talking to someone, and I don’t want to talk to him in front of company, not when I’m still in such a strange state of mind, half angry at him because he might send Carrow’s mate away, half wishing I didn’t have to speak to him at all.

So I tiptoe forward carefully and peer around the corner, trying to see who he’s talking to.

“Mara?”

A voice from behind me startles me so badly, I lose my balance and have to catch myself on the wall. My keys jangle on my waist at the sudden movement, and Owen’s voice goes quiet, as if he heard the noise and is listening for more.

“Hello?” he calls out. “Is someone there?”

I turn, eyes wide, searching for a way to escape without being seen and find Poppy and Steagor standing behind me. They’re both watching me, Poppy with concern, and Steagor with something akin to amusement.

Terrified now that Owen will appear from around the corner at any moment, I hurry forward, grasp Poppy by the hand, and rush her away while Steagor follows close behind. I find a linen closet nearby—one of the many nooks in this Hill that’s too small to be a proper room to anyone and has been converted to a storage space over the years.

I don’t dare speak until we’re all inside, the three of us squashed in the narrow space between the shelves and the door.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathe. “You startled me.”

Steagor hugs Poppy from behind and pulls her back, making more room for me. “And you thought hiding in a linen closet would solve the issue?”

I glower at him. He’s been Gorvor’s close friend for decades, so I’ve known him just as long—an honorary cousin of sorts.

“No,” I grumble. “I just didn’t want…”

Voices from the corridor filter through the door, and my ears twitch as I try to discern whether it’s Owen passing by. I send Poppy and Steagor a wild look, but for all Steagor’s teasing, he remains quiet until the people outside move farther away.

“Mara, are you all right?” Poppy asks, not unkindly.

She squints at me, and I realize she must not see me very well with just a sliver of lamplight filtering in from under the door.

“Aye,” I breathe. “I’m fine. I was only, ah, searching for one of the human soldiers.”

Poppy gasps. “You mean the captain?”

I back away from her on instinct, until I bump into the shelves with a clatter. “What?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Poppy lifts her hands to her face, clearly embarrassed. “But Dawn mentioned that he might be returning.”

My throat tightens at her admission. “You-you talked about me? About this?”Gods, how embarrassing. “Does everyone know?”

“No!” Poppy rushes toward me, extricating herself from Steagor’s embrace. “She only mentioned it because I didn’t have the best rapport with the human guards so far, and she wanted to warn me so I didn’t get a fright seeing those men in the great hall over breakfast.”

Guilt descends, bitter and immediate. “Oh gods, Poppy, I didn’t even think of that!” I rush forward to wrap her in a hug, mindful of her baby belly.

How could I have forgotten that she’s been declared a thief and had to walk all the way from Ultrup to our lands? She’d been so afraid, and it had taken a lot of work on Steagor’s part to get her to trust that she was safe in the Hill.

“I’m so sorry. How are you doing?” I demand. “You’re not worrying too much, are you? It’s not good for the baby.”

“No, no, that’s all in the past.” She pats my back, then holds me out at arm’s length, and squints up into my face. “I’m more worried about you. What’s going on?”

“I…don’t know what to do,” I admit.

Steagor raises one dark eyebrow at me. “He’s your mate, isn’t he? The captain?”

I consider denying it, but there’s no use. What other reason do I have for behaving like a madwoman and tiptoeing through the corridors?

“Aye,” I grumble. “He is.”

“That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you, Mara.”Poppy draws me into another hug. But when I don’t respond as enthusiastically, she pulls back slightly. “You don’t seem thrilled. What’s wrong?”

I hesitate, not knowing how to explain this. “I’m not certain he’s the right match for me after all.”

“But…” Poppy glances at Steagor, then back at me. “When I first met Steagor, you told me you were excited to meet your mate. You said, ‘I know that if I found my mate, I’d hold on to him and never let go.’ That was when Steagor was still trying to marry me off to some human.”

Her mate lets out a low groan. “I was a fool, Poppy. And I thought we’d agreed never to mention that again.”

“We did, but this is about Mara ,” she murmurs, reaching back to pat his cheek.

He uses the opportunity to press a kiss to her palm, and she lets out a soft sigh, then melts into his embrace. But when she turns back to me, her expression is all the more concerned.

“What changed?” she asks. “Did the captain do something?”

“No,” I say immediately, not wanting them to think poor Owen has done anything wrong. “But he’s human .”

Steagor glowers at me, and I realize only then how that must have sounded.

Poppy looks taken aback. “I didn’t know you felt that way about us.”

My chest constricts at the thought that I’d insulted a friend. “No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I don’t really care that he’s not an orc. It’s just—he’s leaving .”

Poppy’s eyebrows climb up. “Leaving? Whatever for?”

“He’s a soldier,” I say, my voice more defeated than I’d like. “He has a duty to the Duke of Ultrup. He’ll have to return to the human lands sooner or later, he said so himself.”

My short friend glances back at her mate, confusion plain on her face. Suddenly, the small pantry space seems even tighter than before, because I know what’s coming.

“But…couldn’t you go with him?” she asks. “If you want to be with him…”

That’s the question I’ve been asking myself ever since I first scented him all those weeks ago. And every time, I come to the same conclusion.

“No, I couldn’t,” I choke out.

Poppy shuffles a little, as if confused, then her expression brightens. “Oh, you don’t want to leave the clan? Because you’re the steward? But surely Gorvor could find someone else to take over some of your tasks. We could all help, and you and the captain could divide your time between the Hill and the city if you…”

I shake my head at her, and she stops, her frustration clear. She wants to push me for answers yet is kind enough to hold back her questions.

But Steagor is staring at me, his dark eyes wide. “You never go out.”

My heart thuds painfully, and I lean away from him instinctively, my back hitting the shelves stacked with freshly washed linens.

“What?” Poppy turns her head to stare up at her mate.

He’s still studying me, though. “In all my years of guarding that front door or organizing the young ones on duty, your name never popped up on the lists.”

Poppy smacks the back of her hand against his chest. “What lists? What are you talking about?”

But I know. Steagor is right, and I hate it, I hate that he has figured out what’s been going on. I would escape, but they’re standing right in front of the door, and I’d have to squeeze past them, which would prompt even more questions.

“Every visitor to the Hill is signed in at the door,” he explains, his voice low. “And everyone who leaves is required to tell the guards on duty. That way, we know who’s out there in case anything happens and we need to send a search party.” He glances up at me, then adds, “Wasn’t it your friend, Carrow, who left one day, just after we’d arrived at the Hill, and broke his leg stepping into a badger’s hole?”

I nod despite the lump in my throat. “He was missing for two days before we figured out he wasn’t just hiding somewhere in the Hill. When they found him, he’d been half delirious with fright and had to spend weeks recuperating in Taris’ infirmary.”

His accident had cemented my view of the outdoors—and played to one of my deepest fears. What if I left one day, got lost or injured, and no one would miss me? What if they never came to fetch me, because as Poppy said, Gorvor could easily find someone else to do my work?

“I can’t believe I never noticed.”

Steagor shakes his head, and I know he’s thinking through his interactions with me. I am, too, trying desperately to find an instance of when I left the Hill, just to prove him wrong.

“What?” Poppy looks from me to him and back. “You haven’t been outside? At all?”

I wring my hands together, squeezing my knuckles so hard it hurts. “I don’t like it much. It’s…so wide and open. And it doesn’t matter, my entire life is here, in the Hill.”

Steagor’s expression shifts to something like pity, and I hate him a little for it, even if none of this is his fault.

“How long has it been?” he asks.

I think about lying again. But he would know—and my lie would be easy to prove. He’d only have to check the logs at the front door. We have ledgers that go back a decade, all neatly organized, just as my own books. I’d made sure of that after Carrow’s near miss. The system had been my idea, and Gorvor, who had been just as shaken after having nearly lost a young member of our clan, had agreed.

Only Gorvor had gotten over that incident in time, and he has no issues going out of the Hill, whether to ride in the forest with his queen, play with his son in a meadow, or hunt with our best trackers.

And I haven’t. I’ve been here all this time, safe and happy, underground.

“It’s been years,” I whisper.

Poppy presses her fingers to her mouth. “Oh, Mara.” She sniffs, then asks, “Is it like Korr’s affliction but the opposite, do you think? He can’t stay underground for any longer than a couple of hours.”

“Perhaps.” I shrug as if this is nothing special at all. “I’m not bothered by it, though. Like I said, my life is here…”

“But it’s not anymore,” Steagor rumbles. “If your mate is human.”

Aye, there lies the problem .

“Humans need sunlight,” he adds. “They must spend time outside.”

I look down at Poppy. “I know.”

“Oh.” She hugs me again, her eyes shining with tears, her belly bumping me in the hip. “I’m so sorry, Mara.”

She draws back and allows Steagor to pull her into his chest. She seems so content, her lush figure healthy, her belly round and ripe. Her mate worships the ground she walks on, and I know she loves him back just as fiercely.

An ugly flash of jealousy for them both flares up in my chest, followed immediately by a sense of self-loathing. They’re only trying to help, and I’m thinking ungracious, envious thoughts. I want what they have so badly, but I don’t know how I ever will…

Useless…

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” Poppy asks tentatively.

I shake my head and try to shove down the old feelings. “No, but it’s all right. I’m useful here. In the Hill. Out there, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Steagor sees through me. He must know I don’t want to discuss this further, because he clenches his jaw several times, as if trying to choose the right words.”You’re valued here for more than just being a steward, Mara. You always have been.”

My eyes are stinging now, so I blink several times to chase away the tears. My voice comes out thick as I say, “Aye, but what am I without my work?”

What do I have to offer Owen if I leave the Hill with him? I’d only be a burden, a woman too scared of the open sky and the world he lives in to do much else than cower in fear.

“You’re a friend.” Steagor’s words ring through the small space. “You stood by me and helped me watch over Poppy when she was so ill, I thought I’d lose her forever. You accepted every one of our mates, and you’ve been a friend to them, Mara.”

My throat closes up, and I can only blink at him, my heart thumping too fast.

Poppy suddenly lets out a heaving sob, then squeaks, “It’s true! You don’t think I consider you a friend?” She swipes at her eyes, then strokes Steagor’s hand because he has already drawn her into another embrace. “I’m fine, it’s just that this pregnancy has turned me into a watering can. But I mean it, Mara. I’ve thought of you as a friend since the moment I first saw you.”

I blot my tears with the hem of my sleeve, then let out a shuddering breath. “Thank you. And I’m honored to be your friend.”

Steagor inclines his head toward the corridor, his ears twitching. “I think your captain has long gone. Will you try to talk to him or stalk him through the Hill some more?”

His voice is dry, but the glint in his eyes tells me he’s teasing, trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I just don’t see how things would ever work out between us.”

Poppy reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Trust in him. He might surprise you. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always here.”