I should have learned by now. That time I’d tried to prove to my father that I could solve the flooding problems in the southeast quarter, only to have the levees washed away that first rainy season. And then there was the idea for a merchants’ fair that had fizzled out due to lack of interest. And the community park that had nearly sparked a rebellion over zoning changes and eminent domain.
Change wasn’t going to happen. I had my role in life and it was fruitless to try to swim against that overwhelming tide. Learn from my father. Be the prince I was born to be. Don’t bother exerting myself in stupid projects or thoughts ofmarrying a sassy shrew of a female. Things were the way they were because it was the best route, tried and true through generations.
It hurt.
I thought I’d reconciled myself to this long ago, but the human world had brought up ridiculous ideas of how to make things better back home. And this dark-haired woman before me had stirred up youthful dreams I’d once had of being in love, of finding a partner in life, of breaking free of the chains of my birth and actually being happy.
I hadn’t been happy in so long. But the last three weeks… Images of the old people I’d befriended, of teaching them the game I’d played as a child, of them helping me decide the best place to take the shrew to dinner.
And the shrew…
I’d always been able to find respite in sex, but with her the physical act had gone beyond stress-relief. With her in my arms I found the male behind the layers of duty and responsibility. And she’d begun to coax that male away from the shadows outside of the furs as well. For a brief time, I envisioned a life with her, and it had been like a breath of spring air after the musty confines of the life I’d been born to.
As hopeless as it all sounded, I didn’t want to give that up. I didn’t want to giveherup. I’d come here resigned to live out the script of my life, but now the very thought of that filled me with dread. Suddenly I was standing at a crossroads. Never see the shrew again, find a human female suitable to be a princess, and go back home to the life I’d left. Or fight for my shrew. Win her over. Marry her, and create the future I truly wanted, regardless of what my parents or anyone else in the kingdom said.
My heart knew which choice it wanted. My hand-axe certainly knew which choice it wanted. My head was scared, thinking about all the failures from my past and worried that Iwas about to choose the path that would undoubtably be littered with failure—the first possible one that the shrew would never want to see me again, no matter how I tried. But the sex had been good for her as well, and I’d seen the look in her eyes when we’d talked over dinner and when we danced. I couldn’t easily walk away from that, and I was hoping she felt the same.
Step one would be to find out what her name was, so I pushed my way through the crowd to where Bwat sat at the bar, looking at something on his phone.
I slid onto the bar stool beside the other orc. “I fucked up.”
Bwat stared at me as if a chair had come to life and spoken. “You’re talking to me?”
“Yes. I fucked up and I need to know how to fix it, and you know more about humans than the others.”
“Okaaaay.”
I wasn’t sure what the long drawn-out pronunciation of that word meant, but it didn’t matter.
“First, what is the name of Ozar’s mate’s friend.” It was more of a demand than a question, but I didn’t feel the need to win Bwat over with friendliness. I just needed him to give me information.
“Jordan’s friend?” Bwat turned an interesting shade that did not flatter the particular green of his skin tone.
I waved a hand, remembering that Ozar’s mate was named Jordan. I should know that given the number of times I heard him moaning her name as he masturbated in the bathroom when we were on the road.
“Yes. Jordan’s friend. The beautiful friend.”
The color on Bwat’s cheeks deepened giving his complexion a muddy tone. “Abby Anton.”
I frowned, because that name absolutely did not suit the shrew. Human names were weird. I’d probably just continue to call her shrew.
“This Abby Anton is going to be my bride, so I need to know how to woo her.”
“No!” Bwat nearly knocked his stool over as he jumped to his feet. His face turned an even more unflattering mottled shade of greenish-brown. “You can’t marry her! I’m…I… She would make a terrible princess.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But I don’t care. We are like fire in the furs together, and unlike many humans or orcs, I can actually hold a conversation with her without falling asleep.”
Bwat made a choking noise. His hands curled into fists. I eyed him with curiosity, wondering if he was actually going to hit me.
“You can’t. She’s…she’ll never leave the human world. Never. So you can’t marry her. You have duties as a prince back home, and you need a female who is willing to go back with you.”
It would be a stumbling block. My duties back home were mostly as a figurehead and as an heir, so it wasn’t like I needed to spend every day there, but I did want to return for at least part of the year and I would want my wife to accompany me. And when my father died, my bride and I would need to return full-time to my kingdom.
Ah well. I was certain I could convince the shrew to change her mind. And if not, it wouldn’t be so bad here in the human world with her by my side.
“That’s not a problem.” I told Bwat.
He made another choking noise. “She’s…she’s…infertile.”
