I stared at him.
He stopped. "Did someone talk to you about this? The woman of your house is dead, but surely…"
"I know how it happens." The warrens were not known for their discretion.
"Ah." He nodded. "Good."
Did Thea know? My throat tightened. Would anyone tell her before she was married off to someone hopefully kinder than an orc?
Was it better to know what was coming?
"This isn't ideal, since we are not…familiar."
I counted stitches on the coverlet, closed my eyes as I heard him untying the laces on his breeches.
"Tell me if it hurts."
I was not about to give anyone that satisfaction. I focused on regulating my breathing, clearing the emotion off my face.
Fabric fell against the floor on the periphery of my consciousness, and his heat, his presence, moved to me. I leaned back, let myself fall. The light in the room was now gray, and it made a giant of him there. I couldn't see his face.
"You can pretend I'm someone else, if you want. I won't blame you."
It was such a ridiculous thing to say. I heard myself responding. "Am I not what you were looking for?"
"No." He moved over me, his shadow obscuring the ceiling, and I watched his throat swallow. "No, you're perfect."
When he entered, I didn't cry out. It hurt, like breaking, and I sealed my voice back, held the coverlet in aching fists. Time was odd, shadows and breath. I expected the pain to lessen, I don't know why, but it got sharper, and I bit the side of my mouth so hard that it welled with blood. I stayed still. His breathing grew louder, the shadow of him moving, the blood in my mouth, and I squeezed my eyes shut, till he pressed, and was still. We hung like that, aching, and the dark shape, the heat of him, pulled away.
He lowered himself to the coverlet, a foot away from me. "We'll get better at this," he said. "The first time is always awkward."
I didn't answer. What promise could he want to compel from a thrall? I stayed still until perhaps his breathing evened, and curled in on myself, as far away as I could reach, to shake in silence. There was no way I'd let him hear me cry.
TEETH
Iwoke with the blankets folded over me, and my orc husband gone, the morning sun streaming through the slit windows. How long had I slept? Voices rose and fell beyond the door, rough and barking. I pulled on my shift and then Thea's dress, stood in the empty room, feeling my body, the familiar and the strange, the places that ached and didn't. My thoughts scathed me, "If you're going to escape the castle and the orcs, you have to leave the room, Rowena."
I took several quick breaths and pushed through the door.
The orcs looked up at me. Some were in the process of putting on armor, others were eating more of the salted meat. I met Khal's eyes where he stood by the circle, unnaturally still again.
The young orc broke the stillness, yelled in mildly accented Common, "So was he any good?" Someone kicked him. My face was burning, and I found it hard to breathe. How odd to be in a room full of eyes on me, of people who could imagine what we'd done. They were just orcs, they were savages, but suddenly I couldn't look at anyone.
Khal strode through the others, shoving the younger oneonto the ground as he walked to me. "We'll be leaving soon. You should eat something." He pressed another square of the cricket bread into my hand.
The younger one got off the floor and yelled something, and Khal fired back, the sound like arrows sinking into straw. The room erupted laughing, and I shrank back against the wall.
"What did you tell him?" I couldn't help myself, squeaked it out. Khal froze, opened his mouth, closed it.
"He said," the old one gravelled out, "that if Tyralk wants to sleep with him so badly, he'll have to fight you for it."
Khal was studiously avoiding my gaze. "You should eat," he muttered.
I forced cricket bread into my mouth.
The trip through the castle was like a strange dream. The orcs were tense, the corridors and even the courtyard mostly deserted. I was at the center of a knot of heavily armed orcs, walking between me and the human guard. I caught whispers and glances from the few persons gathered in the bailey by the well, felt my face turn to fire, looked away. I hadn't done anything wrong. We all moved from desperation in this world. The opinions of people who could never help me wouldn't matter much longer. We were approaching the portcullis now and the final drawbridge out. I saw orc hands tightening on weapons. A vein throbbed in Khal's neck.
The drawbridge lowered. They were muttering to each other now. Khal led, and we walked.
