“That’s whatIsaid,” I told her, amazed at how much my Polish grandmother and I thought alike.
The idea stuck in my brain all day, no matter how I tried to push it into the recesses of my mind. It would be a dream come true to train a professional sports team, but that dream had always seemed wildly out of reach for me. But the Tusks weren’t a typical NHL team, and I got the feeling their owner was far too cheap to spring for one of the big-name trainers.
I, on the other hand, would be willing to work at a significant discount just to get my foot in the door. But first, I’d need to work up the nerve to pitch the demon who owned the team. And then I’d need to hope I could do enough to improve their playing and maybe even get them to the point they’d win a game or two. Because if there was no difference in their skill, if they still were the laughing stocks of the NHL, then all my efforts would amount to nothing.
And I’d be right back where I started—poor, with limited career prospects.
4
ENG
The weekend crawled by. My hovel/den felt like a cage. I paced, counting the minutes until I could go out and prowl the streets for an establishment where I would eat a meal and pass an hour or two evaluating any human female for her potential as a bride. None appealed to me and I berated myself for my disinterest. It didn’t matter if I was interested or not. She needed to be well-mannered, meek, obedient, and with sturdy hips to bear my offspring. Moderately attractive would be a plus, although I didn’t need beauty in a partner to get the job done. I knew my duty.
I’d always known my duty. Every second of my life.
Here, among the humans who laughed as they spoke, their hands waving with animation, their cheeks flushed from the breezy fall weather, their hair wind-tossed, I found my thoughts straying from duty to a raven-haired female with tight muscles, dark-brown eyes, and soft skin the color of that milk-drenched coffee Ozar insisted on drinking.
She reminded me of the orc females back home. Not the ones who worked in the castle, or the ones in the town who swayed their hips in an effort to catch my eye. She reminded me ofthe warrior females from those stories I’d listened to with rapt attention as a young orc.
Bold. Powerful. Confident.
Not a princess.
No, not a princess, but she’d been one amazing ride—a ride I’d like to experience again.
A small voice in the back of my mind reminded me that even if I didn’t know her name, I could have Ozar ask the human woman he was convinced was his mate. But that would involve me asking Ozar for a favor. And for his strange human-mate-bond courting to last more than twenty-four hours.
And then there was the big question ofwhy. I’d been brought up knowing that sexual self-care was as important as eating a balanced meal, but any female could satisfy that need.Icould satisfy that need with my own hand. Seeking out a specific human female was a waste of the time I needed to spend finding a bride and getting out of this place.
No females approached me, or even gave me a glance that would indicate they would be open to a conversation let alone a proposal of marriage, so I left the dining establishment and went for a walk, reluctant to return to the boring tiny box that the disrespectful hockey team owner insisted I live in.
The sun shone bright. The grass was still green even though the air announced the area was into their autumn. A chill breeze tunneled through the tall buildings from the river, causing the humans to hunch down in their jackets. Our autumn was much colder. We’d already have icy slush in the streets and snow on the nearby mountains. Our grass would be dry and brown—what little grass there was inside the gates of the capital’s city, that is.
I had to admit that this human city was nicely organized with large community spaces, many smaller neighborhood nature areas, and even homes with enough land to support small gardens. It gave me ideas. Our kingdom had come about as analliance between five clans to protect against the fae during the War of Midnight. The castle my family lived in, the city inside the gates…all that had been planned as a place the clans could retreat to for protection if the marauding fae overcame our army and tore across our lands.
But that was a thousand years ago. And seeing the open spaces and wildlife in this human city made me think the time for change was now. Our people deserved something like this.
But my father would never agree to it. He still lived in fear of a fae attack, and that fear drove all his policy and planning.
Blinking, I looked around and realized that I’d walked to the harbor and followed the twisting line of the river around to the port. Catching my breath, I let the impressive logistics of trade by water sweep over me. Our navy was minuscule, serving only to protect our ports and safeguard the independent traders who paid for our protection. The ships that delivered goods and services to our kingdom were powered by wind, sun, and magical enchantment. They were impressive, but not nearly as impressive as these giant islands slowly being guided into large docks that were clearly constructed from steel and concrete rather than the hand of nature. I’d seen villages smaller than these ships, and the colorful boxes stacked on the deck reached as high as some of our castle’s towers.
A mechanical claw maneuvered over one ship, picked a giant yellow box from the top of the stack, then slid it away. The area was full of those giant, colored boxes, some on trucks lined up to leave the yard, and others sitting on the ground as humans inspected and tagged them with electronic devices.
I was fascinated. Not that we needed this level of logistics since our trade was clearly minimal in comparison, but I was still interested. What criteria allowed certain boxes to leave while others were inspected and held?
No. I wasn’t here to explore human city planning and trade logistics. I was here to find a bride. Then I would return home and get busy producing heirs. That was my duty. That was my responsibility.
With another long look at the ships and the claw and the giant boxes, I turned and walked back to my boring hovel.
The next dayblurred into boredom, until I’d discovered the joy of human periodicals. The magazine I’d snatched from Ugwyll had been interesting with pictures of beautiful, lithe human females accompanying articles that discussed their marital difficulties and interpersonal conflicts. As attractive as the females were, I’d been alarmed at how drama-fraught their lives were. Would it be impossible for me to find the meek and obedient female I’d been sent to wed? Had humans changed so much over the centuries?
Once more I thought of the shrew.
I needed to stop thinking of the shrew.
Ditching Ugwyll’s magazines, I explored the stadium, digging through every unlocked office and closet.
Wasn’t like I had anything else to do.
