Chapter 19

This time, laughter shakes all orcs, echoing up the high ceilings. I glance between them and Drundak, who smiles at me.

"It's just a mushroom we eat with eggs. Not literal fingers," Drundak says, a smirk playing on his lips.

"The literal fingers are for celebratory feasts only," says Gorbag behind me. I glare at him over my shoulder, but he's grinning in amusement.

And this time, I can't help but join it. I laugh as I accept a bowl from Drundak. "I'll anxiously wait for those then." I pile the bowl high with goblin fingers and eggs, pick up a spoon, and turn to Thorn.

The king gapes at me as if I had just insulted his mother. Or revealed that I eat kittens for breakfast. His upper lip curls over a tusk in what looks like a confused sneer.

I glance down at my bowl. Maybe I served too much? "Sorry. I'm hungry and these smell good. Should I?—?"

"Enough," Thorn snaps, scooping up the baby from Ursha's arm. She steps out of his way. "Follow."

I jump and hurry after him. Gorbag follows suit, but Drundak stays by the dining hall when I glance over my shoulder.

"Thank you, Drundak!" I call out, hoping I haven't just slaughtered his name.

I have to sprint to catch up with Thorn. Gorbag snickers as he takes leisure steps next to me. It's not my fault I'm shorter than them, but they make it look like it is.

And Thorn doesn't even appear winded; every long stride is taken smoothly. I follow on his shadow down a new corridor.

The scent of cooked eggs hits my nose and my stomach rumbles in return. I glance down at the food. The eggs have a smooth, velvety texture, cooked to perfection. The mushrooms were lightly sauteed to a golden-brown sear.

If it were a faux pas to eat while walking in this culture, they wouldn't have given me a plate, right?

Grabbing the spoon, I make quite the display of picking up eggs and bringing them to my mouth, giving Gorbag enough time to complain. He doesn't, so I take a bite.

Delicious warmth spreads over my tongue. The eggs are fluffy, melting in my mouth, salted just enough, and creamy the way I like them. My eyes flutter shut and I barely hold back a groan when I bite down on the mushroom. A unique earthy flavor with hints of nuttiness takes over. The goblin fingers have a rich and savory taste and just a little crispiness on the outside.

Why is this the best thing I've ever eaten?

I inhale half of the bowl by the time we ascend a wide staircase, its steps worn from the tread of countless heavy boots. The walls on the second floor are adorned with tapestries that depict battles and hunts; the threads are vivid even in the dim corridor, but I don't have enough time to study them.

There are several doors in every corridor, each with a different door decoration, from branches to leaves to bones. We approach the very back of the building, in an empty corridor with only one door at the end. The only decoration looks like a sharp claw hanging from a thin leather rope with several small knots.

Gorbag slows down and stops a few feet behind us. He takes a guarding position near the wall. Somehow, his absence doesn't make me happy. My stomach plummets.

This feels bad. I've been so amazed by the orcs and the food that I never wondered why Thorn had to bring me up here.

But he won't kill me anymore… Will he?