Her Orc Husband

“You want to buy books?” Marut asks when we stop under the bright-colored awning of the city’s largest bookseller’s shop.

I glance up at him from under my umbrella. “Just one. I’ve never had a book of my own.”

He flicks back his wet hood and fixes me with a stare. “Never?”

“They’re quite expensive.” I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “I had a card for the traveling library. That had to suffice, though I admit I’ve read all of the interesting books Mrs. Tompkins has in her cart—and some of the boring ones, too.”

He stares at me for a long moment, then clears his throat. “We, uh, we have a library at the Hill.” He shoves his big hands into the pockets of his cloak. “It’s well stocked. You’ll be free to borrow as many books as you’d like.”

I beam at him. “That’s wonderful. Do you have many novels?” I push open the glass-paneled door and enter the shop. A small bell chimes above my head, announcing our arrival. “They’re the ones I like most. But if it’s not too expensive, I’d like to buy one for the road. Maybe they have a section with used books…”

I stop short just a few steps from the door and simply soak in the atmosphere. The shop’s ceiling is low, and there isn’t much light coming in from the windows because of how gray the weather is outside. But it looks like the coziest space I’ve ever been in, with books stacked on tall shelves, on tables, ladders, and sometimes the floor. Here and there, a lantern burns, illuminating the room with yellow light.

“Oh my.” I carefully lean my umbrella on the wall by the door, not wanting to drip water everywhere. “Where do I start?”

“That depends on what you like to read,” a voice says from my right.

I start and turn toward what seems to be a working desk, though it’s half buried by stacks of leather-bound books. It takes me a moment to make out the person standing behind it, but when I do, I can’t help but smile.

Something about the bookshop keeper puts me immediately at ease. They make their way from around the desk and offer me a grin in return. Their tortoiseshell spectacles glint in the lantern light, and their velvet gown, a rich crimson that complements their dark-brown skin, seems perfect for lounging around and reading books all day.

“Hello again, Marut,” they say, addressing my new husband. “Back again so soon?”

Marut inclines his head, then straightens again, nearly hitting his forehead on a particularly low beam. “Aye, but not for myself this time. This is my mate, Violet. She’s come to buy her first book.” Then he turns to me. “This is Ellis. We have been cooperating for many years now. They provide most of the books for our library.”

Curiosity sparks in me. Does this mean Marut works at the library? But before I can question him on that, Ellis gently ushers me toward the back of the shop.

“I sense you might be fond of these.” We stop in front of a tall bookcase, and they motion at the multitude of tomes fighting for space on the shelves. “Take all the time you need.”

They disappear toward the front of the shop. I glance at Marut, eyebrows raised. I’ve never met Ellis before—or visited this shop. To think that this exact selection of books would fit me right is…strange.

He lets out a low chuckle. “Trust them. Their sense of what someone needs to read is impeccable.”

It turns out, both Ellis and Marut are right. The books stacked here are mostly travel novels, some ranging toward adventure and tales of brave knights, while others feature a dash of romance and intrigue. I page through one after another, getting caught in clever passages and witty dialogue.

“Gods,” I murmur as I replace yet another book on the shelf, unable to pick a favorite. “How do I decide?”

“Which ones did you like the best?” Marut asks.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I peruse the shelves again, then point out several books. “This one, too. I thought that one might be good, but the main character droned on and on about the virtue of drinking beer as a medicinal draft, which doesn’t seem that smart.”

Marut picks the books I indicated off the shelf. “So you would choose one of these?”

I sigh. “Yes. Let me see them again, I won’t be long.”

But instead of handing me the books, Marut turns his back to me and strolls to Ellis’ desk.

“Excellent choices,” the bookshop keeper says.

“I still have to choose one.” I think for a moment, trying to come up with a clear favorite. “You know what? I can’t decide. I’ll choose at random, here, give me—”

But Marut gently knocks my hand out of the way as I go to reach for the stack.

“We’ll take all of them,” he rumbles.

Ellis gives him a sly grin. “Am I to expect more correspondence from you in the future, my friend?”

Marut’s lips curl up at the corners, and my heart melts a little. From his interaction with Ozork, I thought that perhaps Marut was reserved with everyone—but clearly he likes Ellis just fine. I can’t wait to reach the Hill and see if he has other friends there.

We leave the bookshop minutes later with the stack of books wrapped in thick brown waxed paper to keep them from getting wet. The rain is letting up, and the street is busier than ever, so I stop under the shop’s awning for a moment.

“Thank you.” I smile up at him.

Marut shakes his head. “Don’t look at me like that, little bird.”

I widen my eyes. “Like what?”

Instead of answering, he closes the distance between us until our boots are touching and only an inch of space remains. I tilt my head way back to meet Marut’s gaze, and my breath stalls at his expression.

“Marut?” I whisper when he keeps staring at me in silence.

He lifts his hand and brushes back a lock of my hair. It’s barely enough for me to feel it, and he jerks away a second later, but a shiver goes through me. I’ve never wanted a man to touch me before. I’ve made it my life’s mission to avoid all contact, but my new husband is forcing me to reevaluate my entire existence.

“You looked happy,” he growls at last. “In there. For the first time since we met, you looked happy.”

My insides squeeze painfully. He noticed that?

“I-I’ve always liked books,” I stammer. “They helped me get through…”

I swallow, not knowing how to complete that sentence. Yes, reading helped me get through my grief when my mother passed, then through the less acute pain of losing my father. But it’s more than that. Books have made my drab days interesting. They let me travel when I couldn’t, they let me live out a hundred different lives that showed me what was possible—if not probable—for me.

“I will give you as many books as you want,” Marut says. His words are a solemn oath. “I will do whatever I can to make you happy, Violet.”

I reach up and hover my gloved hand over his broad chest. Then I place my trembling palm over his heart. And nothing happens. I don’t collapse in a heap. My skin doesn’t boil at the touch. Marut only sucks in a deep inhale, his eyes closing as if he’s savoring the moment.

“And what makes you happy?” I ask.

Because if he is going to devote himself to the task of bringing me joy, shouldn’t I do the same for him? I am his wife, after all.

Marut opens his eyes and gives me that heart-stopping half-smile. “You. You make me happy.”

I frown up at him, an argument on my lips. He can’t possibly be serious, and after this intense moment, I can’t believe he’s being flippant like this.

But he steps away, books in hand, and moves back, into the stream of people rushing to complete their daily chores. I go to follow him, bracing myself for the inevitable collision with people, but Marut stops me with a gesture of his hand.

He faces forward—and offers me his arm.

I hesitate, my fingers tightening around the damp umbrella. I touched him just now, though I have no idea what possessed me.

And I know Marut won’t say anything if I refuse him. He gave me his word that he wouldn’t force himself on me, and even though we’ve known each other for such a short time, I believe him. He doesn’t glance at me, doesn’t encourage me or try to coax me closer. He only stands there, arm at the ready, his cloak thrown back, letting me decide.

It’s his calm, unrushed manner that tips the scales for me. I take a step and put myself by his side. Then I reach up and tuck my hand in the crook of his elbow. His arm is massive compared to mine, and the moment I touch him, his muscles shift under my palm, rock-hard and impressive. I swallow a gasp and fight the instinctive urge to shy away.

Then I brave a glance at Marut’s face.

He stares at where my hand rests on his jacket sleeve. Then he looks at me and smiles. His full lips stretch around his white tusks, and his dark eyes light up. His imposing features are transformed, turned immediately more handsome and approachable. My heartbeat races, and a flush creeps into my cheeks.

So I face the street again, hoping my cheeks aren’t flaming red, and clear my throat. “We’d better get going. My brother’s house isn’t far from here.”

Marut lets out a low chuckle. “Aye, lead the way.”

I’m incredibly grateful he doesn’t comment on what just happened. On what is happening right now, with us strolling down the street together. I wonder what we look like to others, with him more than a foot taller than me and me walking so awkwardly beside him, then decide I don’t care. Flashes of blue sky are showing between the clouds, I have new books—and a new husband.

I lift my left hand quickly to glance at the glittering green gem of my ring, a swoop of something powerful surging through me.

I have a husband.

My life has changed irrevocably, and I cannot wait to see how it turns out.

An hour later, I know exactly what my sister-in-law thinks about my recent decisions.

“You’re ruining your life,” she whisper-shouts at me as she follows me from my bathing chamber back to my bedroom.

I’ve collected my soap, my hair oil, and all the other bits and bobs a woman needs for her daily cleansing rituals. When Marut asked me if I had any personal items to pack, I didn’t think I’d have that many, but I’ve been rushing around my room, and still I haven’t prepared everything I want to take with me.

I need to hurry, though, not because I think Marut might get impatient with me, but because I don’t want anything to ruin this thing for me. Huck isn’t expected home quite yet, but I can’t shake the feeling that he would try to exploit my new situation if he learned of it. I never wanted to think so ill of my brother, but after the visit to the bank, I cannot say for certain what he’s capable of.

“You can change your mind,” Amber pleads with me, wringing her hands. “Please, let me help you.” She stops suddenly and stares at me, her blue eyes wide in horror. “You haven’t consummated your marriage yet, have you?”

I snort, thinking of all the places Marut and I have visited since this morning. Does she think we might have done it in Mrs. Pimms’ office? At the bank, perhaps, or right on the magistrate’s desk?

“It’s all right, I know what I’m doing.” I try to sound more confident than I feel because I actually have no idea what marriage with an orc might be like. “You needn’t worry. We’ll be out of your hair very soon.”

She collapses on the edge of my bed, squeezing her dress in her fists. “Won’t you at least wait until Huck returns? He’ll be so angry to know what you did.”

At that, I pause and turn to look at her. Amber’s face has gone pale, and what I’m seeing in her expression right now isn’t just worry for me. No, she’s afraid, properly afraid.

“Amber,” I say slowly, “is everything all right between you and Huck?”

Her chin wobbles, and she blinks hard, her eyes wet with tears. “Yes, of course. He only… I’ve not been a very good wife to him, have I. I’m always messing up, and if you leave, I’ll have to keep the house, and you know how mad he gets when everything’s not…”

I sit next to her and take her hand in mine. “I know.” I’ve been on the wrong end of my brother’s outbursts before, but I’d hoped he’d be kinder to his young wife than his sister.

“So…will you?” she asks, her voice quiet. “Will you wait and explain?”

I shake my head sadly. “I can’t. Marut and his clansmen will travel back to the orc lands tomorrow morning. And there’s nothing here for me, you know that.”

Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I do. And I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend to you.”

This is unexpected, especially since I went out of my way to make her feel welcome and always had the impression she thought I was beneath her in some way, what with her noble family and all. But maybe she just never knew how to make a friend.

“Listen,” I say, standing again and throwing the last of my stockings into one of the small leather suitcases by the door. “I’ll write to you when I get there. And right now, I’ll write a letter to explain to Huck what happened so you won’t have to.”

I don’t owe him that, but if I can ease her mind by writing a few simple lines, I’ll do it.

Amber swipes her hands under her eyes and sniffs. “All right, thank you.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Then I crouch by the suitcase, find the money purse Marut gave me, and reach inside.

“Here.” I extend my hand toward Amber, and when she comes close enough, I drop five gold marks into her palm. “Hide these. Do not tell my brother about them.”

I quickly explain to her what I learned at the bank this morning.

“If I’m right,” I add, “he’s spending more money than he should. So make sure these are hidden, and if you ever need to leave, for whatever reason, take the boys and go to your parents. They’ll help you.”

She seems doubtful, but she takes the coins anyway. “I’ll tuck them away,” she promises.

I lug my suitcases down to the front parlor of the house, where we left Marut with my books because I didn’t think he’d want to see my childhood bedroom. I’d served him tea and some of the biscuits that Huck’s cook made this morning, and promised him I wouldn’t be long, but now I’ve gone and spent all this time packing. I burst through the parlor door, an apology ready on my lips, then stop on the threshold, staring.

My nephews have found Marut. The boys are giggling happily as Marut dangles Darren by his feet and Jamie sits on his shoulders, tugging at Marut’s braids. And my husband…my husband is laughing, a deep, booming sound that warms something deep inside my belly.

“Oh!”

Amber arrives to the parlor right behind me, and she stops, her hand flying to her mouth.

Marut freezes, a child still dangling from his hand, and his eyes go comically wide. His gaze darts from me to Amber, then he reaches for the back of Jamie’s collar with his other hand, grips him tight, and slowly puts both boys on the floor.

“Again!” Jamie yells, tugging at Marut’s pants.

He’s so much smaller than the orc that he looks like a little doll. Darren tumbles over to his mother, grinning widely.

“Did you see, Mama? We found an orc!” He points at Marut as if anyone could miss him standing by the fireplace. “Just like in our stories, but he didn’t eat us at all. He says he only eats eggs and sausages for breakfast, not little boys.”

I can’t hold back a laugh, and when Amber looks at me sharply, I shrug. I told her the book of fairy stories her mother bought for her grandsons was full of superstitious nonsense.

“They’re lively,” Marut rumbles as Jamie tries to climb his leg like a squirrel.

Amber finally unsticks herself from her spot and rushes forward. “I’m so sorry.” She drags both boys back. “They were supposed to wait in the nursery.”

Marut raises both eyebrows. “Aye, well, in my experience, children will rarely stay put.”

I crouch next to Darren, who’s still staring at Marut wistfully. “We’ll come visit you,” I promise him. “I’ll bring Marut back to you.”

He stares at me with wide blue eyes, so much like his mother’s. “You’re leaving?”

At his exclamation, Jamie drops to the parquet floor and races over to me. “You can’t leave,” he says imperiously. “We’re supposed to go riding tomorrow, remember?”

My heart stutters at his words. It’s true, we’d planned an outing together, and I’ve never backed away from a promise.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “But I didn’t know I’d get married when we last talked. Today has been…surprising.” I glance up at Marut, then focus back on the boy. “But perhaps you could go riding with your mama?”

Jamie’s small face goes red, and he looks from me to his mother and back. “Mama doesn’t like horses.”

It takes all my willpower not to break down right there. I wish I could stay with them and be what they need me to be. Their aunt. Their nurse.

Then Amber crouches beside me and takes Jamie’s hand gently between hers. “I’ll go riding with you tomorrow,” she says, her voice hitching slightly. “I promise. You can teach me how.”

I hug the boys and promise Amber I’ll be in touch. When she leads her sons out of the parlor, my heart twists, and a hard lump lodges in my throat. I take Marut’s handkerchief from my pocket and dab at my eyes, then turn to him.

My husband stands by the fireplace, arms crossed, his back to the flames. He doesn’t pressure me to hurry, doesn’t question my tears or offer inane advice. He merely waits for me to pen a short letter to my brother in which I explain about my marriage. And when I set the letter on the side table where Huck will easily find it, he doesn’t ask how I can say goodbye to my only remaining family member in such a short missive.

“I’m ready,” I tell him.

Marut merely picks up both my suitcases in one hand as if their contents weigh nothing and offers me his other arm.

I take it, and we depart, leaving my old life behind.