The shrew turned, the plate of fried dough in one hand and a plate of cooked meat in the other, her eyes wide. “You do what?”
It was too late to backtrack, so I plunged on ahead. “Old humans. They gather in parks and watch the other humans or birds or whatever. Sometimes they gather in groups and talk and play games. They are stupid games with red and black disks jumping over each other, or dice rolling to move disks, or a truly horrible game that I think is supposed to simulate battle strategy. It does a very poor job of that, but the old humans seem to love it.”
“Chess.” She pivoted to put the plates on the counter table with two stools on one side. “I grew up playing it with my grandfather on my dad’s side.”
I climbed out of bed and walked the few steps to a stool as she added various bottles and mugs of coffee to the counter. Everything smelled and looked amazing, so much better than even the diner down the street from my hovel.
“It is a terrible game. I never win.” I sounded whiny, but for some reason all my defenses were down this morning.
“It is,” she admitted, pulling off her apron and sitting next to me so we were both completely naked. “But I decided that winning wasn’t the goal. What was important was spending time with my grandfather. He’d tell me stories about his life while we played. I’d tell him about my school day, problems I was having with friends, about the boy I had a crush on that week. The game was just an excuse to talk.”
I grunted in agreement, cutting off slabs of butter to layer on my fried bread. It smelled of dough and egg and cinnamon and my mouth watered for both the breakfast and the shrew’s lithe, muscular body.
“I haven’t played chess with my grandfather in ages,” she mused as she swirled lines of syrup on her bread before passing me the bottle. “Maybe I’ll challenge him to a game tonight. He’ll win, but it will be fun. Just like old times.”
I didn’t bother with syrup, shoveling a chunk of butter-laden fried bread into my mouth and humming in approval with the taste. The shrew was a better cook than the humans at the local diner. She was better than some in our palace kitchens. If she were an orc and back home, we’d snatch her up as a royal cook.
The idea bothered me. I didn’t want her to cook for anyone aside from me. And herself, of course. I wanted sole access to the shrew’s body, her time, her cooking. I wanted her to be mine.
Which was not at all why I’d come here. This female beside me was not a princess. She was not the bride I was supposed to bring home. And while my brain tried to think of a way she could be my lover, my mistress, part of me was appalled that I could ever consider treating her as a filthy secret to be kept in the shadows while a subservient, obedient wife stood beside me in public.
“Tell me more about your parents,” the shrew said as she crunched on a piece of bacon.
I hesitated, fork halfway to my mouth. Eating the bite of fried bread, I thought about how I should respond as I chewed. “My father takes his role as king very seriously. He is actively involved in all legislation and in every governmental decision.”
The shrew raised an eyebrow. “Micro-manages, does he?”
It took me a few seconds to remember what the words meant before I nodded in agreement. “He does not trust others to make anything but the most minor of decisions on any matter. There are advisors, and he considers their opinions as well as the history of a matter, current facts, and various options. But in the end, the decision is his to make.”
“It must be difficult to have so much weighing on every decision you make,” the shrew mused as she continued to eat. “In my job people do rely on my knowledge and experience, but all I’m affecting is their training plans and personal fitness. Nothing as life-changing as what your family deal with every day.”
I frowned. “My father’s decisions may affect more people than yours do, but your decisionsarelife-changing for the humans you work with.”
She shook her head. “Bench press reps and cardio intervals are hardly life-changing.”
“But they are,” I argued. “You told me about elderly humans you work with who are trying to ensure they remain mobile and able to enjoy their lives in their latter years. You’ve told me about the humans who suffered serious injury and are attempting to regain their strength and complete use of their limbs. You have told me about human males and females who are eager to achieve important goals, and how you help them reach those goals.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “You remember that?”
Of course I did. Why was she surprised about that?
“Your decisions and guidance are absolutely life-changing to those humans,” I assured her.
She stared at me a moment, her dark eyes suddenly very shiny. “That’s…that’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”
I shrugged, embarrassed. “I speak the truth.”
She cleared her throat, taking a sip of coffee before speaking again. “Tell me more about your home. It sounds like your father is mainly concerned with domestic affairs. Does he also involve himself with groups outside the kingdom? Does he travel to other countries?”
“To my memory, my father hasn’t left the kingdom,” I said. “Other orc clans send representatives to our capital to meet with him to discuss trade or agreements to provide military support. While he sends representatives to the fae courts, he has never gone himself. The fae likewise send representatives to us.”
The shrew wrinkled her nose. “I’ve always wanted to travel, but my family is here. My friends are here. My job is here. I went to college locally. Outside of a few vacations to Mexico and the Dominican Republic I’ve pretty much stayed in Maryland my whole life. Actually, I seldom leave Baltimore.”
I scraped the last bit of fried bread into my mouth and regarded her as I ate. “But if you want to travel, why don’t you?”
She shrugged. “Money. Time. If I ever have enough of both, I’ll absolutely travel more, although I’d like to plan far enough ahead that I can study the language and customs, as well as plan an itinerary. And I’d need to find someone to travel with.”
“Why not go alone? Money and time are a barrier to overcome, but a traveling partner shouldn’t be.”
