Chapter 20

Thorn opens the door without knocking. We step into a windowless bedroom, but the light of a massive stone fireplace illuminates it. A massive bed commands attention, cloaked in pelts. There's an enormous dresser toward the far end and fluffy rugs cover the extension of the bedroom.

Even if it's simple and sparsely furnished, it's the definition of cozy. There's even a door next to the dresser that might give into a bathroom.

A dark wood crib waits for the baby. Thorn strides to the crib and puts the baby down. I take the moment to step inside after him, studying the place.

Or more like searching for a way out. There's none, of course. Even if I ran, Gorbag is waiting just a few feet behind.

There's no exit... but there's something else.

Axes, their blades etched with runes, line the walls. The sort of decoration I would expect from an orc, but not from an orc baby's bedroom. But what do I know?

Thorn turns to me, his gaze piercing through the space between us. He says nothing. I hear only my heartbeat in my ears.

"It's quite the child-friendly decoration. With all the blades," I say, trying to instill humor into my voice.

Thorn stares for another beat before glancing somewhere over my head. "The door," he says.

I frown, staring at him. Oh, he wants me to close the door.

Before I can, it thuds closed behind me. Gorbag, I imagine. My shoulders tense.

I'm alone with the king of orcs… Is that a good or a bad sign?

"This is my chamber," Thorn says, breaking through my thoughts. His voice has a hint of gravel that makes my ears happy. "Weapons are symbols of honor for my people. They have memories. They tell stories. Orclings must learn from the cradle."

It makes sense, of course. They're a society of warriors. I glance at the baby, kicking away and rolling around his sheets. "Isn't it too dangerous? To risk them getting injured?"

Thorn doesn't reply. When I look up, he's staring at me with those eyes full of doubt, as if he can't quite understand what I'm saying. Or if he can't believe me.

Finally, his lips part around his tusks. "The blades are dull. Eirik won't hurt himself."

I nod, leaning forward to look at the baby. "Hi, Eirik. I'm Violet." The baby gurgles back at me and a bubble of saliva pops from between his lips. I glance back up at Thorn. Okay, he isn't chatty, but I should have expected as much. "Can I ask… uh, what is the plan? You brought me here for a reason, right?"

Thorn takes a long moment of silence, his eyes lowering to find Eirik. "Your arrival was not accidental. It's very convenient that you would show up at that moment when my clan's heir was about to be killed. You chose to cross a magic portal into a land unknown to save someone else's child." His voice is slow, lulling, but grave when he looks at me again. His eyes pin me to the spot. "I saw the fire in your eyes yesterday. You say the truth. You did mean to save him. But I don't trust your reasons. You shall stay."

I jerk in surprise. "I can't stay. I have a life out there," I lie. The truth is, I wouldn't mind staying longer. For a while, at least.

It's an entirely new world, after all. If I could stay a week or so, I'd hop back home after. Like a vacation.

In a fantasy world with a penchant for cruelty, sure. But still a fantasy world.

Thorn arches an eyebrow. "Do you have kings where you come from?"

I frown back at him. "Yes."

"And would they let you go because you have a life back home?"

Of course not. From what I remember from history classes, kings back home are more likely to behead you for looking weird at them than orcs. Not that he needs to know that.

"I don't know; I never met any," I say, as vaguely as possible.

Thorn gives me a deadpan look. "Until I decide your fate, we have to find you a duty in the clan. Everyone pulls their weight. Everyone does their part for the whole. You will aid in caring for Eirik." He takes a beat, staring at me as if to make sure I'm paying attention. "Since he seems to like you, you'll be responsible for his well-being." He leans forward. "And that means that, if anything happens to him, you are responsible."

Of course it wouldn't be a simple nanny job. But Ursha, the pretty orc, said humans were too weak to work the fields, and I don't want her to test her theory on me. Whoever works the fields must work a lot to feed these many orcs.

I clear my throat and prop a hand on my hip. "Nanny to the heir. That doesn't sound so bad. I accept."

Another sharp glance from Thorn, as if he's telling me I didn't have a choice. I ignore that, since I'm delusional.

"What perks does the job have?"

Thorn arches an eyebrow. "You'll be paid, if that's what you're asking. I take no slaves."

Well, congratulations on the bare minimum. "Do I get a bedroom?"

"No. Families have bedrooms in the clan house. I have none empty."

"Where did the last nanny sleep?"

"Her family has chambers of their own."

I curl my nose, scowling at him. If he thinks I'll sleep on a chair every night, he's got another thing coming. "Then where will I—" I start, but the rest of the sentence dissolves when my gaze meets a well-known backpack near the bed.

My backpack.

"I do not trust you to leave you alone in one of the houses, and if you stay in the clan house, I can have a guard with you at all times," the king says. "There is no reason for you to be lying about the portal, but I also have no reason to trust an outsider." He takes a beat, letting the words sink. "Until you gain my trust, this bedroom will have to be large enough for the two of us."