Chapter 1

IfLouisa wasn't careful, she was going to end up murdering her vile lord neighbour.

"LordRikard," she said to the surly, stumpy, dark-haired man now hovering before her. "To what do I owe this… call?"

She'dbeen out on her usual evening stroll over her lands, attempting to find a few moments' peace in the cool quiet air — so of course, LordRikard had apparently decided it was an excellent time for some trespassing. AndLouisa's clammy hand was already gripping the knife at her belt, her heart thundering ominously through her chest, as her rational brain shouted distant, dire warnings, deep in her skull.

No. No. She needed to stay calm, and control her temper, and extract herself as quickly as possible. Rikard wasn't her odious departed husband, even if the resemblance became more pronounced with every passing day. LordScall was dead. Dead.

"Aren't you going to invite me to walk with you?" Rikard snapped, casting a brief, disdainful glance down toward Louisa's shabby riding dress. "So we can discuss this matter together, like civilized relations?"

Louisaclutched her knife tighter, and dragged down a deep, shaky breath. "No, I'm afraid not," she said, clipped. "You can tell me whatever you need to say right here."

Rikard'swhite face flushed with red, his broad chest puffing out against his beautifully tailored waistcoat. "Typical," he hissed. "Look, we need to discuss the orcs, Louisa. The orcs you've been allowing to illegally camp on your property. Formonths!"

Theorcs. Louisa couldn't quite suppress her wince, and Rikard lurched closer, jabbing his thick finger toward her. "It's a disgrace," he continued sharply. "It's foolish, it's dangerous, and it's a frightful liability! To tolerate those thieving, bloodthirsty beasts on your lands? Squatting there with their feral little spawn? Only a few furlongs away from my property?"

Louisadrew down another deep, gulping breath, and fought the rising, overpowering urge to shout that if the realm's laws were fair, she would still be the rightful owner of said property, its beautiful house, and all its associated income. AndRikard would still be scuttling about in a cramped filthy townhouse in the city, just like the poisonous vermin he was.

"Remind me, Rikard," Louisa said instead, as smoothly as she could, "how you are even aware of what might be transpiring on my property, at any given moment? I certainly haven't been confiding in you, and surely my staff haven't been sending you reports?"

Rikard'swet mouth spasmed, because he knew — just as well as Louisa did — that her much-reduced staff complement would never betray her trust in such a way. Not even after the house had grown colder and colder these past months, and the meals smaller and smaller. Not even after — Louisa swallowed, lifted her chin — she'd had to tell them, just today, that their monthly wages would be late. Again.

"You think I don't notice what's happening in my own neighbourhood?" Rikard demanded. "Most of all when those dreadful squatting orcs are crossing my lands to get to yours?!"

Thetriumph rang through his voice, jangling deep and powerful into Louisa's churning gut, because — damn it. Damn it, were those orcs truly crossing Rikard's land to access hers? Surely they couldn't be that foolish? Surely they'd at least heard rumours of Rikard's pettiness, and his widely proclaimed public opposition to that tenuous peace-treaty between humans and orcs?

Evenso, Louisa couldn't help an uneasy glance southward, toward the thick forest that covered the entire bottom half of her property. The group of orcs had been camping there for almost a year now, near a hidden cave opening that she strongly suspected was, in fact, a tunnel. A tunnel that undoubtedly led — her gaze shifted further south — to OrcMountain.

Asalways, the orcs' huge home loomed grey and craggy on the horizon, pouring its steady streams of black smoke into the sky. It was a sight that had once struck fear into a young Louisa's breast, when her decades-older lord husband had first brought her here to his ancestral lands. But the more LordScall had raged about the foul orcs, and hurled his ill-gotten coin toward that endless war against them, the more Louisa had begun to doubt the entire damned proposition. Until finally, the year after Scall had passed, she'd become unwittingly entangled in an orc-related mess, and thereby had discovered…

"Do you have any proof of the orcs trespassing?" Louisa loudly asked, over that deeply disorienting thought. "Have you or your staff personally witnessed any orcs crossing your lands? Or have they left prints? Refuse? Remnants of fires?"

Rikardbetrayed a brief but highly telling grimace, and Louisa's shoulders sagged, her sweaty grip loosening on her knife-hilt. Of course Rikard hadn't personally seen the orcs. Because in truth, Louisa had scarcely caught sight of them herself, either — and so far, they'd shown themselves to be surprisingly clean and conscientious, and even helpful. They'd cleared out an entire swath of invasive buckthorn, they'd installed a sturdy little bridge over the worst part of the swamp, and one day, Louisa had come home to find her latrines freshly dug out. A foul and expensive task she'd been putting off for months, and here it had been fully finished, in a single damned afternoon.

Butmost crucial of all, the orcs had begun to leave food, too. Choice cuts of fresh venison and boar meat in the kitchen, and mushrooms and vegetables in the root cellar. And given the appalling state of Louisa's ever-dwindling accounts — and the multiple mortgages her fool husband had piled onto his properties during his lifetime — it had felt like a gift from the gods. A handful of orcs on her land was a small price to pay, in order to keep her loyal staff housed and fed, and offer them a clean latrine to empty their bowels in. Right?

"I don't need to witness those trespassing orc bastards," LordRikard said now, his voice rising. "I've set up traps. Snares, that only I can decipher! And those great ugly beasts have betrayed themselves, again and again!"

Louisa'shead was beginning to ache, the frustration crackling behind her tired eyes, and she couldn't bite back her harsh, high-pitched laugh. "Oh, you've set secret snares," she drawled at him. "Why, those must be utterly infallible! I can't imagine that a wandering deer or fox might have set one off! And" — she waved irritably toward the southwest — "didn't I hear that you just hosted a boar-hunting party a few days ago? Surely that alone would have lain utter waste to any top-secret snares you might have managed to cobble together?"

Rikard'seyes flashed with furious dislike, his little mouth opening and closing. "We didn't hunt anywhere near there," he shot back. "I know my own property, Louisa. And my poor lord uncle would be rolling in his grave to hear what you've done with his lands! Lands that by rights, ought to have been mine!"

Louisabarked another incredulous laugh, and gave a reflexive roll of her eyes. Because yes, Scall's death had granted her the ill-maintained, heavily mortgaged dowager house, and a few leagues of dense, swampy forest — but since she hadn't been able to bear Scall a son, his fool nephew Rikard had gotten all the rest. The big beautiful manor, the fields, the barns and livestock, and over a dozen leagues of prime forested hunting grounds. Rikard was now a very rich man, while Louisa grew poorer with every passing day, and had been reduced to relying on orcs for her suppers.

"LordScall's rotting corpse can do acrobatics in his grave, for all I care," Louisa snarled back. "These are my lands now, Rikard, so by law, what you think about them has no bearing on me whatsoever! And if you want to speak of trespassing" — she drew in a deep breath — "perhaps you can explain to me why the hell you're here, rudely interrupting what was supposed to be my peaceful evening walk!"

Shewaved a furious hand toward Rikard, and then toward the small creek that marked this part of the property line, a good thirty paces behind him. But predictably, Rikard's glower only deepened, his lip curling with distaste. "I felt it was only fair to attempt to address this matter with you directly," he replied. "But you'd best believe I'll be taking steps to defend my valuable property in future, Louisa. AndI'm warning you, if you keep sheltering those trespassing orcs here" — he jabbed his finger toward her — "you will regret it!"

You will regret it.A cold ripple snaked up Louisa's back — was Rikardthreatening her? But then she shook her head, tightened her grip on her knife. No. No. Rikard was just a foolish blustering boor, a petty minor lord who didn't even have a seat on the realm's ruling Council. He wasn't LordScall, she'd escaped LordScall, LordScall was dead…

"Look, I'll make sure the orcs respect the property lines, Rikard," Louisa bit out, through gritted teeth. "Now, I suggest you do the same!"

Withthat, she spun around, and strode off down the path, her eyes fixed straight ahead. Her breaths already coming steadier, she just needed some air, some space to think, some peace —

Andthen — something grasped her arm from behind. Someone. Dangerous.

Itwas pure instinct that whirled Louisa around again, her knife gripped in her fist. Its blade shoving straight back toward Rikard, toward that pale sweaty throat. Finding it, there, here, sharpened steel prodding cold and hungry into soft meaty skin —

Andfor a frozen, breathless instant, there was silence. Silence, as Rikard gaped at Louisa with appalled alarm blaring in his eyes, and a knife-blade jammed against his neck.

Ashocked little mewl whimpered from his mouth, and then he released Louisa's arm and stumbled backwards, nearly tripping on a rock behind him. "What in damnation, woman!" he shouted. "What the hell is wrong with you?! I wasn't about to — I was only about to say —"

Louisastared at him, waiting, breathing hard, as something dark and reckless curdled in her belly. No. Yes. No. She should know better, she shouldn't let this odious weaselly wastrel get to her. She'd escaped LordScall, she needed to forget LordScall, LordScall was dead…

"I was only about to kindly say," Rikard continued shrilly, as he staggered another step backwards, "that my previous generous offer still stands. Although perhaps" — he shot a dark look at the knife still in Louisa's hand — "I ought to rescind that offer, once and for all!"

Hisprevious offer. Louisa might have laughed, had that darkness not still been screaming, surging bitter memories behind her eyes. Memories from the day after Scall's funeral, when she'd finally had a blessed moment alone — until Rikard had appeared in her sitting-room, and offered her a proposal of marriage.

A marriage of convenience, he'd called it. A means of granting you security, now that you're past your marrying prime. A way to keep my dear uncle's lands undivided. A way to give you a child of your own to care for, perhaps.

Thatlast point had painfully pricked in Louisa's chest, because while Rikard didn't know it, she would never be able to bear children of her own — and even if she could, her sixteen years of marriage to LordScall had long ago shown her his nephew's true measure. Rikard had wanted her lands, as unprofitable as they were. He'd always been an avid sportsman, and he'd wanted the right to hunt in her forest unimpeded. And, of course, he'd also wanted the freedom to keep dallying with other women as he pleased, while gaining a convenient heir for his grand new fortune — without lifting a single finger to acquire a wife. Let alone needing to waste his time pretending to care for her, or her children.

Louisa'srefusal had been furious and absolute, and she'd perhaps shouted at Rikard more than she ought, and betrayed far too much of her own grief, her own pain. She would never again be coerced into a marriage. She would never again share a bed with a man she didn't desire. And she would never, ever sell her freedom — her life — for a man's gain. Never. She was thirty-nine years old, and she was living out the rest of her days on her terms, on her own damned means.

"No, Rikard," she gritted out. "No. I have no interest in remarrying. Ever."

She'dkept her voice steady, her eyes desperately fixed on the twilight sky behind Rikard's head, but he lurched another step closer, blocking her view. "You let LordKaspar court you," he snarled back. "That fop was dangling after you for months!"

Louisagripped her knife-hilt even tighter, and again fought down the surging darkness, thick with pain and grief. Kaspar had been her first and only attempt at a relationship after Scall's death, and he'd been a duke's son, and a handsome, clever scholar, who'd courted her with patience, kindness, and respect. So naturally, once Louisa had fallen head over arse for him, she'd been approached by one of his long-time mistresses — a sweet girl named Rosa — who not only had been sharing Kaspar's bed the entire time, but who also had been writing all his academic papers, while toiling for abysmal wages in his mouldering little library. And then Rosa had run away to OrcMountain, and Louisa had even helped her, and met multiple orcs, and…

"No," Louisa managed again, though the word wavered this time. "Kaspar was an odious, deceitful cheat, who thoroughly misrepresented himself to me, and only wanted the grand inheritance he mistakenly assumed I had! Not only that, but he was taking advantage of his staff — and, he had fathered multiple children he refused to support! He was — a grave mistake."

Butcurse her, why was she telling Rikard any of this, because it only gave him more information, more ammunition to hurl back against her. And it had even sparked something in his beady little eyes, something bright and eager and sickening…

"Well, you can rest assured thatI possess no illegitimate children," he pointed out, as if this was some grand achievement on his part. "AndI pay my staff very fair wages, as well. More than some people in these parts, I might add."

Godscrush the smug little vermin, it was a jab at Louisa again, even as he was offering her his hand in marriage. And the strangled sound from her mouth could have been a laugh, though her eyes were damnably prickling, and tightness spasmed in her throat. She was trying. She was trying so damned hard. And she'd just wanted a damned walk, a few moments of peace under the sky, and this horrid man was ruining everything, everything —

"No," she choked again, through her constricted throat. "No. Now get off my fucking land, you loathsome little rat. Unless you want me to call my orcs to heel, and send them over to trample you!"

Hervoice rang through the cool air, echoing between them, flashing true fear across Rikard's eyes — because damn it, Louisa had just threatened him. She'd just implied that she not only knew about the orcs, but endorsed them, or even commanded them. And perhaps, perhaps even wanted them…

Theshock on Rikard's face clashed with fury, with a horrible rising awareness. He knew. He knew, and Louisa should say something, do something, LordScall was dead —

Butshe was too slow, too late. And already LordRikard had whirled around, and scuttled away into the darkness.