CHAPTER 33
Lix’tuk
I’ve been looking forward to and dreading this day for quite some time.
Tonight, I will return to Uzrirgard.
We’ve done everything we can to help the humans. We’ve repaired the damage done during The Salting. We repaired all the infrastructure in Concord City that was damaged during the revolution. We helped them establish a new government. They voted on a New Constitution and filled their House of Freedom with representatives.
I wouldn’t say I consider them allies, but I no longer consider them an enemy. There are good and bad humans like there are good and bad orcs. I guess that’s one thing we have in common in this world. I’ve never met a bad wolf shifterora good demon.
If the Twelve Gods are real and my deeds and misdeeds are weighed on the Cosmic Scales like the stories say, I’m not sure which one will dip lower. Sometimes, shades of gray makedecisions complicated. War makes them more complicated. Grief sours your soul like I once believed a human would sour my bed.
But Clover isn’t sour. She tastes like the salt of my mistakes and the sweet reward of learning to breathe again. She’s theonlything I want to breathe. I’d give up my crown, if that’s what it took to have her in my arms every night.
So, I’m doing something selfish. Something for me. Something that will add enoughbadto the Cosmic Scales to send me to the underworld instead of Valhalla.
“Y-you’re here,” Clover whispers as she walks into the bedchamber. She looks at the suitcases on the bed. “And everything is packed.”
It’s been days since I’ve seen her pretty brown eyes. I watch her sleep sometimes. Sit beside the bed, wrestling with a decision that was made the night she trembled in my throne room. I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Yes,” I growl. “I’m leaving tonight.”
She looks down, her eyes clouded with conflict. I understand why. We love each other, but it’s the kind of complicated that isn’t fair to either of us. We can satisfy needs. We can’t have the kind of intimacy we deserve.
“I guess that means we’re going to have to fight about this again,” she sighs.
“No, we’re done fighting about it. I’ve made my decision,” I respond firmly, voice gruff.
“Okay,” she says, stiffening her back. “If the decision is that you’re leaving me behind, then don’t waste your breath.”
“That depends on you, Clover,” I reply, reaching into my pocket and clutching a wooden box in my hand. “I’m going to let you decide.”
Before she gets a chance to emphatically tell me she’s already decided, I drop to a knee. I bow my head respectfully, open the box, and look up at her.
Her eyes light up with an emotion I’ve never seen before when she sees the ring. The diamond is mined from the earth near Troona and is slightly green because of The Salting. The band is mithril blended with one of the stones from my throne room in Zrogmul. It gives it a golden shimmer.
“Are you…” she gasps, her lips moving, but no words coming out.
“Asking you to sit by my side in my throne room? Asking you to share my burdens. All of them,” I say, smirking and huffing slightly. “Yes, Clover. I’m asking you to be my queen. My wife.”
“Oh, uh, um,” she stammers. “Is that even allowed? Can a human be… your queen?”
“If I say you can be my queen, you can be,” I assure her with some force in my tone. “I’m the king. My word is law. But I can’t make the decision for you. You still have to say yes.”
She swallows hard and nods furiously. “Yes! Oh, yes! Absolutely!” she squeals, throwing her arms around me.
“Mmmpphh, hold on, you’re supposed to let me put the ring on you first,” I grumble, holding her with one arm.
I manage to pull the ring from the box while she’s still clinging to me. Her hand is shaking when I take it, but mine isn’t much steadier. I’ve worn a crown for centuries, through peace, war,funerals, and two hundred years of loneliness, but sliding the ring onto Clover’s finger still makes me tremble.
Finally, she pulls back and looks at the ring. Then at me. If I wasn’t already certain this was the only decision I could make, then her smile confirms it. It’s never been bigger. Almost ear-to-ear.
Then the smile vanishes and she looks troubled. Her pretty brown eyes cloud over with concern. She drops her hands and puts them behind her back.
“What’s wrong? You’re not getting cold feet already, are you?” I ask, my chest tightening.
“No, I’m going to have the warmest feet in Uzrirgard on our wedding day,” she mumbles. “If you don’t make me give you the ring back after I tell you this.”
