Our food thankfully arrived, and we both turned our attention to our entrees. The pork belly porchetta was just as incredible as I remembered, and from the appreciative noises Eng made, he enjoyed it as much as I did. We were silent as we ate, but as we lingered over the remainder of our wine, Eng restarted our conversation.
“I want to do something more than just attend ceremonies. Someday I will be king, but until then, I need a purpose. I want to perform a job I enjoy. I want to be of value, to better my people and community. And if I am not allowed to do that in my kingdom, then perhaps I should find an occupation elsewhere.”
I nodded, agreeing that everyone should feel that their life had purpose right now, instead of maybe some time in the distant future.
“I do not want to disregard my duty or show a lack of respect for the position I was born to hold, so I will marry and have children. But it feels wrong to make such a commitment to someone only for duty and procreation. I need to respect the female I marry and enjoy their company. And I want to have my offspring when we both are ready, not rush because of my duty.”
As the orc paid the bill I stared at him. Did he mean that I might be princess material after all? Or was this just some sort of philosophical discussion? It had to be the latter. Because great sex and one nice dinner date didn’t make for wedding bells between people so different as we were.
As we left the restaurant, Eng steered me down a few blocks to Vacaros where I taught him the joys of cannoli. Then he called for an Uber and took me to Mobtown. Neither of us were skilled dancers, but we excelled at swaying to the music, locked in each other’s arms. And when I rested my head on Eng’s chest, feeling his heartbeat against my cheek, I could almost pretend that this might be forever.
Almost.
18
ENG
Iclimbed out of the shrew’s bed in the dark needing to relieve myself, and in less than two steps collided into a wall. The shrew stirred at my softly muttered curse and I felt along the wall, banging my shin on the wooden footboard and nearly falling over a discarded shoe.
And I’d thoughtmyplace was a hovel. Not that the shrew hadn’t done her best in trying to make the place home-like with brightly colored pillows and upholstery, but the woman seriously needed a larger den. There weren’t even walls separating the living area from her bedroom, and the scant furniture barely allowed enough room to edge between the sofa arm and the kitchen bar with stools. It had been a snug fit for the two of us in her bed, but I wasn’t complaining about that. Iwascomplaining about the near impossibility of getting out of her bed without climbing over top of her.
The bathroom was equally horrifying. If I’d needed to sit to relieve myself, my knees would have extended into the minuscule corner shower. The sink was barely big enough to wash one hand at a time and I nearly knocked a shelf off the wall trying to open the door.
Letting my eyes adjust to the darkness of the bedroom, I managed to squeeze my way between the bed and the wall without danger. The shrew stirred as I eased onto the mattress and I wound myself around her, my arm across her waist, and my body pressed firmly against her back. She sighed, wiggling her ass against my hand-axe, which reacted with enthusiastic approval.
I woketo the smell of coffee and frying bread and for a moment was confused. Had I dozed off in the diner a block away from my hovel? If so, their seats had gotten way more comfortable than I remembered.
Blinking my eyes open I saw the naked backside of my female, eight feet away and apparently cooking something.
My female. My woman. Mine. How had convenient, although admittedly amazing, sex come to this?
She turned and I saw she had an apron covering the frontal glory of her body, held in place with two thin ties around her waist and neck.
“Hungry?”
My gaze lingered on those long, muscular, golden legs and the ruffled hem of the apron that hid where I truly wanted to feast this morning.
“Yes. I’m very hungry.”
She grinned then reached down to lift the hem of her apron up a tantalizing inch. “French toast, bacon, and coffee first. Then we can enjoy a very different second breakfast, unless you have other plans for this morning?”
I thought of theHnefataflgame and how I wanted to bring it to the old humans and teach them to play. But a leisurelymorning in bed with this female would be more enjoyable than any other activity I could think of. Besides, the old humans liked to go worship on Sunday morning and probably wouldn’t be at the park until well after noon today.
“I have no plans that cannot be moved to another time or even day,” I told her.
“Me either.” She turned back to the pan of frying dough. “Well, except for tonight. Sunday dinner at my parents’ place is pretty much the only thing I don’t want to miss. All four grandparents come, if they’re in town and not off on some cruise or bus trip touring all the flea markets on the east coast. They’re not getting any younger. My nana on my mother’s side had a cancer scare a couple of years back. She’s doing okay for now, but it made me realize that they’ll be gone one day and I need to spend as much time with them as I can. Other family too. With so many brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, I feel like if I blink I’ll miss something important.”
I sat up in bed, rubbing at a sudden ache behind my ribs. “I don’t remember my grandparents. They died before I was born. But when I was young, I enjoyed sneaking out of the castle and visiting the city and tradespeople. There was an older man who carved wooden toys that his family sold in their market stall. I still have the cup and ball toy he made for me.”
She turned, flashing me a gorgeous smile and some heart-stopping side-boob. “The toy with the wooden ball on a string? You swing it upward and try to catch the ball in the cup?”
I nodded.
The shrew turned back and scooped fried bread onto a plate. “I had one of those too, although mine wasn’t hand-carved by a local artisan. It was probably some cheap mass-produced thing from overseas, but I loved it.”
I rubbed my chest again, thinking of the day I’d visited the small wooden house the family lived at, only to be told the oldman had died the night before in his sleep. It had been the first time I’d faced loss, the first time I’d contemplated how fragile and impermanent life was. Suddenly the death rolls the city administrator presented to my father took on a new meaning. They were no longer just names on a page but orcs who had friends and family, who had loved ones that felt that sharp pain in their chests and the agony of loss. Each name was a lightning strike of grief to someone, and that wasn’t something that should just be glanced over and filed away in the archives.
“Almost every day I go to a park and play games with old humans.” I had no idea what had prompted me to confess this. I hadn’t told anyone about my elderly friends. The whole thing was embarrassing, not the sort of activity a prince should waste his time on,orthe sort of individuals a prince should be spending his time with.
