Rose and I spent the entire train ride praying for a wolf shifter. One that would treat us well. Maybe even care about us. We were hoping for a damn lie.
“So, it’s just demons and other humans who buy people at the auction?” I swallow hard, trembling a little.
“Demons don’t reproduce,” she scoffs. “And they have enough skins to wear. They haven’t attended auctions regularly in several decades as far as I know.”
The reality sinks in. Demons haven’t bought anyone from the Reparations Auction in my lifetime. Orcs and wolf shifters no longer need human women to breed.
“So the only people who normally attend the auctions are wealthy men and women who are looking for slaves,” I whisper in horror, as it all comes together.
“Didn’t mean to pull the curtain back that much, but yes,” she says. “Without the auction, Concord City’s economy would collapse in less than a year. They definitely wouldn’t be able to keep expanding that eyesore.”
I should probably ask questions about where we’re going. What will be expected of me once I’m gifted to King Lix’tuk. But my mind leaps past all of it, straight to the fact that King Lix’tuk is anoldorc. I’m keeping him company in his final days.
“What happens after King Lix’tuk is gone?” I ask apprehensively.
“Everyone in Uzrirgard will mourn,” she says, the emotion draining out of her face. “It’ll be the worst day in our history since The Great War.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply, looking down. “I meant, what will happen to me? If you bought me to keep him company in his final days, what happens after…”
“Of course, you were thinking of yourself. How human of you,” she sighs, shaking her head. “King Lix’tuk is the last of an ancient bloodline blessed by the Twelve Gods. Hisfinal dayswill last most of your lifetime, possibly longer.”
“Oh!” I say, swallowing hard. More reality crashes into me, chipping away my memories, sending them deeper into the past where I’m realizing they’ll stay. “I see.”
“When you arrive, address him asYour Majesty,” she continues. “Be as polite and respectful as you would to anyone who canhave you whipped if you’re disobedient or beheaded if you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
“B-beheaded?” I stammer, a tremor of fear sweeping through me.
“He’s a king, Clover. His word is law,” she says firmly.
The tremor of fear turns into a tremble that won’t go away. I’m no longer thinking about my family. Rose. Or anyone’s fate except my own. I don’t want to be whipped. I definitely don’t want todie. I’ve never felt closer to death.
What if I mess up? What if I upset him? What if he just really doesn’t like humans? I’ve seen his name before in books. He was king during The Great War. His wife was one of the women who became infertile when humans released the virus. He has every reason to hate humans.
“I don’t want to die,” I whimper, never feeling morehumanthan I do right now.
“Clover, if I thought he was just going to have you executed, I wouldn’t be giving you to him as a gift,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Just be polite and respectful, like I said. Address him properly. Take your Reparations Penalty with dignity. He’ll respect you more if you don’t beg for mercy during it. Orcs never respect weakness.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and wipe my eyes. I’m showing weakness right now. The very thing orcs don’t respect, which means Lady Frax’mo doesn’t respect me at all right now. I blink away my tears and try to summon my strength. I don’t find much to call on.
“What’s the Reparations Penalty?” I ask, doing my best not to let my voice shake, but it still comes out jagged.
“It’s an old tradition, but long ago, we decided that any human who was brought to live in Uzrirgard would be punished for what their kind did to ours,” she says. “Normally, it’s a whipping. King Lix’tuk will decide what your penalty is.”
My first instinct is to argue that I had nothing to do with what happened two hundred years ago. But I don’t argue. Orcs don’t respect weakness, so if I’m going to keep my head, I need to display strength. Or at least create theillusionof strength, even if I’m scared to death right now. I’ve seen people whipped before. It was scary enough when it was just a man holding the coiled leather. I can’t even imagine how much damage an orc can do with one.
It seems that the sins of people who died long before I was born are mine to suffer for. As if being the second-born wasn’t bad enough. Now I may bewhippedbecause of other people’s sins. A Reparations Penalty, just because I’m human.
“I’ll do my best to take it with dignity,” my voice is hoarse and I am shuddering so hard I’m surprised the seat isn’t shaking.
It all crashes together inside me. The cruelty. The unfairness. Is my fate better or worse than the other slaves who were auctioned? Will the whipping just be the first torment I endure at the hands of a king? A king who probably hates humans more than anyone else in the world, considering that he actually fought in The Great War. He witnessed the atrocities. He was the one who gave the order to salt our entire country to sand.
Inside, I’m shedding more tears than I’ve ever cried.
But externally, my face is an iron mask.
The mostdignifiedone I can manage.
CHAPTER 7
