I sucked in a horrified breath. No children. None at all. When I’d been looking for a suitable princess candidate, I’d intended to father children immediately—as many as possible. With Willa, I found myself thinking it would be nice to wait a few years and have time together. Just us before we introduced a bunch of orclets into our lives. Infertility though…could I accept that? The continuance of our line in the kingdom would fall on myremaining sister’s shoulders, and she’d so far been unwilling to wed. It would be one thing coming home with Willa instead of the bride I was sent to marry, but to also not be able to produce an heir would be more of a rebellion that I thought I could stomach.
“Human medicine is very advance, is it not?” I asked hopefully. “Are there ways of overcoming infertility?”
“No,” Bwat shot back. “Not this kind of infertility. She’ll never have children ever, so you’ll need to just find someone else to wed.”
I frowned, suddenly suspicious. “How do you know this? Humans generally do not volunteer medical problems to relative strangers.”
The other orc glanced over at a female with long hair a few shades more red than Ozar’s mate, and luscious curves. “Ummm, Jordan told Ozar and he told me. That’s how I knew.”
My eyes narrowed. I was going to call bovine excrement on that. Ozar’s mate did not seem the sort of female to gossip about a friend, and Ozar absolutely was not the sort of orc to spread that information around. Bwat squirmed, realizing that his story was not believable. He straightened up, puffed his chest out, and took a step forward well into my personal space.
“You can’t have her. Find someone else.”
I smirked. “Or what?”
Next thing I knew I was sprawled out on the very dirty floor of the bar, staring at an uneaten part of a potato wedge that was partially under the stool I’d just been sitting on. My face throbbed. And all around me humans and orcs were shouting and running around. The humans seemed to be moving away, while the orcs seemed to be approaching.
My brain suddenly caught up with the situation. The fucker hit me. Bwat hit me. He was trying to fight me over the right to woo the shrew and the idiot actually thought he could win thisbattle. He wouldn’t—either the physical battle, or the one for my shrew’s heart. I scrambled to my feet ready to fight but the curvy redhead had moved between me and Bwat.
“What are you doing? Save it for the ice and the other team. You’re going to get kicked out of here, and that’s bad PR,” she hissed at the other orc, hands on her hips.
Bwat visibly deflated. “Abby, I am sorry.”
Wait. What?Thiswas Abby? Not my shrew? Then I remembered that Ozar’s mate had more than one friend, as strange as that idea seemed. I looked around the bar and found the shrew near a back table, drinking her beer and absolutely uninterested in the brief fight between Bwat and me. Her indifference hurt. I wanted her to be in my face yelling at me the way the curvy female was doing to Bwat. Or even fussing over me. Anything but ignoring me as if my getting hit in the face and being ready to pummel Bwat and get kicked out of the bar was nothing she was even mildly concerned about.
“You good?” Ozar asked as the actual Abby edged Bwat away from me.
I was far from good, but nodded, knowing that the orc wanted to know that I wasn’t going to turn Bwat into a smear of blood on this dirty barroom floor.
“By all the mountain gods, what wasthatabout?” he asked me.
“No idea,” I lied. Glancing over at the shrew, I saw she’d turned her back to me. Something in my chest twisted, tight and painful. “What is the name of Jordan’s friend? The one with black curls, dark brown eyes, and skin like gold?”
Ozar blinked. “You mean Willa? Please tell me you’re not going to fight her next. Although I’m pretty sure she could hold her own, even against an orc.”
As if I’d fight a female. Although if I did fight her, Willa probablywouldhold her own. I remembered those powerfulthighs wrapped around my hips, her strong hands grabbing onto my ass, the way the muscles in her abdomen tightened as she’d held herself up from the furs while I drove deep inside her. Actually, she’d easily beat me in a fight. All she’d need to do is look at me with that hungry fire in her eyes and I’d be like dough in her hands. Well, dough except my hand-axe, which seemed perpetually hard as steel when I thought of her.
Willa. It was a good name. Delicate, but with admirable strength. It reminded me of the orc wordwillowyn, a small, adorable furry animal back home that was legendary for its fierceness. If you came across awillowynden with young, or one raiding your pantry, you just backed away and hoped it was gone the next time you were there.
“What is her second name?” If I was going to do this, I needed to be thorough about it.
Ozar grimaced. “Filipkowski. It is hard to pronounce.”
I did something I rarely did when others could see and pulled out my phone, typing in the last name as Ozar spelled it for me. Then I had the language app pronounce the name. It was slightly different than Ozar had said it, and I made a mental note to practice tonight in my hovel so I had the sounds correct.
Willa Filipkowski. A fierce animal for a common name, and a nearly unpronounceable family name. How very orc. It confirmed my conviction that my shrew was the only female I would ever want to be my bride. And it made me feel like a complete idiot for not learning her name before now.
“Donotmake her angry,” Ozar warned. “Abby is already on the edge of skinning Bwat alive. Jordan will not tolerate another orc annoying one of her friends. And if Jordan is upset, I am upset.”
I rolled my eyes, unconcerned about whether Ozar was upset or not.
Willa Filipkowski. I knew her name. And I knew where she lived, thankfully. Now it was time to go back to my hovel, search this kitchen-room for the slip of paper that held my shrew’s phone number, and to plan.
I was going to win Willa back. And then I was going to make her my bride.
28
WILLA
