Page 22 of Faeling (Monstrous World #4)

It wasn’t that Vallek had left that Ravenna minded. He did that often enough. It’d been that he just left . Had she been still asleep when he returned to quickly gather a few things for his journey, she’d no doubt he’d have left without saying goodbye at all.

“If I’m not allowed to leave here without your consent, then I don’t think you should be leaving without mine,” she’d argued, more for the sake of it than anything else.

“The safety of the realm warrants exception,” he’d replied as he donned his lighter set of boiled leather armor.

“Oh, well, if we’re making exceptions, then mates shouldn’t—”

Turning on her quickly, he’d asked, “So you agree we are mates?”

Ravenna spluttered. “I never said we weren’t! I said it shouldn’t matter.”

It’d been the wrong thing to say, whatever playfulness glittering in his eyes snuffing quicker than a blown-out candle. He finished readying in silence before marching to the door.

“You will remain in my quarters,” he announced without looking back. “I will return anon.”

She was about to call out his hissy-fit, but he didn’t give her the chance, slamming the door behind him.

Ravenna stomped her foot in frustration, and then scrubbed her face in annoyance at doing something so childish.

Fates, she didn’t know whether she wanted to throttle him or pet him more. Right now, throttle him.

After the previous night, Ravenna didn’t know if it would ever be safe to touch him again.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed their passion. She did.

And it wasn’t that she didn’t have a little experience already. She did.

It was…well, everything. She’d thought herself able to handle her own azai .

She’d watched him for years, knew enough to suspect he’d be a passionate lover.

Knowing something and experiencing it were two very different things, however, and having all of that lust and attention focused on her—and in anger —was too much.

It’s not supposed to be like that.

Her handful of experiences and years of exploring her own body hadn’t prepared her for the onslaught. Of course, she wasn’t about to admit that to him. Oh no. Not like this, kept as his prisoner, under threat of an orcess wife.

Ravenna retreated behind her own defiance, a safe place that fit like a well-worn pair of boots.

Others may balk at finding solace in mischief and mayhem, but Ravenna found it soothing to look about his quarters and think of ways to make his life difficult.

She decided her best course of action was to burn his bed.

She knew of his love for comfort, how on longer trips, his large tent included a plush camp bed.

For as rough and rugged as the king could be, he did enjoy his luxuries, too.

His bed was a soft target, one she wasn’t above threatening, especially since she’d no plans of joining him in it any time soon.

Of course, she’d burn it once he was back. For now, it was all hers.

In the meantime, with little else to do than stew and wait for Brynhíl to check on her, Ravenna soaked in his private bath.

Hot springs could be found all over the mountain, as she understood it, and the restorative mineral water produced in them was renowned across the territories.

More than a few intrepid orcs ran thriving businesses bottling the mineral water up for sale, as well as adding it to creams, potions, and tonics.

Although the steam carried a fragrant tang to it, Ravenna still thoroughly enjoyed pulling off her linen robe and sinking up to her chin. The warm water did wonders for the crick in her neck, developed over a night on the sofa.

Alone in the baths, she felt safe enough to unfurl her wings.

Even though they folded up into discreet little bundles between her shoulder blades, it’d taken quite a bit of maneuvering to keep them out of sight when Brynhíl helped her bathe the other day.

Although Bryn was a kind orcess, and Ravenna as a half-fae was likely expected to have wings like a fae woman, wings were a vulnerability, an easy target for enemies.

That was why they were often only for azai to see and touch. And…Ravenna’s were small. Too small.

Another vulnerability she’d no intention of sharing with her own azai any time soon. Not after last night.

Sinking further into the water, Ravenna tried to leave thoughts of that outside the bath.

She’d just gotten relaxed when Oberon decided it was time to chat.

Are you safe, Crow? How are you?

I’m well enough. Still confined to his quarters, even though he’s left for some sort of derring do.

The king is away?

That seems to be the plan, she thought grumpily.

Ah, this works in our favor.

What does? she asked suspiciously.

It isn’t perfect, but mother has been forming an idea of how to break you out of there.

I see…

Do you know an orc that’d make a good hostage?

Ravenna sighed as she dipped below the surface, bubbles cascading around her face.

She would be wrinklier than a walnut by the time she finally made it out of the bath and convinced the herd not to take a hostage to negotiate her surrender to them.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that visitors came, and it wasn’t Brynhíl. Instead, after a swift knock on the door, making Ravenna jump up from her half-doze on the sofa, Eydis and another orcess entered the suite.

“Good day,” Eydis greeted her. “I hope we’re not disturbing you.”

“Not possible,” Ravenna replied, rising to bob her head in deference.

The second orcess smiled as Eydis introduced her. “This is my mate Hilde. She’s been anxious to meet you.”

“Can you blame me?” said Hilde. “The one who felled Vallek Far-Sight…my everlasting respect.” She reached out to gently lay her hand on Ravenna’s right shoulder, a friendly greeting amongst orcs.

A little shorter and stockier than Eydis, Hilde was nevertheless far more fashionably dressed than her mate.

Artfully draped in blue linen robes cinched with a tooled leather belt, she wore sandals laced halfway up her calf.

Little fringes of leather decorated her belt and sleeves, some studded with turquoise beads.

The same little pops of turquoise could be seen in her many braids, elaborately knotted together atop her head.

Whereas Eydis was all understated elegance, Hilde presented as the height of orcish beauty.

Broad shoulders, sharp tusks, and a jet-black mane, she was all powerful lines softened by gold ornamentation.

Vallek and Eydis both had blue eyes, though of different hues, fairly rare for orcs.

Hilde’s were brown, much more common, except that hers were such a light brown they were almost gold, matching the golden clasps in her braids, gold bands around her wrists, and the gold mating torque around her neck.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s been felled,” laughed Ravenna, “maybe tripped up a little. That’s all.”

Hilde and Eydis shared a significant look. Taking her hand to pat sympathetically, Hilde said, “Of course, vini mun, that’s why he’s left all of a sudden. Not because he can’t make sense of you.”

Ravenna’s brows rose nearly to her hairline. Surely not.

“My brother is many things. Right now, one of those things is stupid.” Eydis shrugged. “Males.”

“Vallek is one of the best ones, though,” Hilde said diplomatically. “He’s just out of sorts. The call of the beast can unnerve even the hardest warrior.”

“I know him to be a good king,” Ravenna replied, “if a bit tyrannical of late.”

Hilde and Eydis snickered, nodding in agreement.

“Try to be gentle with him,” said Hilde.

“In the meantime…” From a deep robe pocket, Eydis produced a familiar leatherbound book. “I believe this is yours.”

Ravenna gasped, rushing to reclaim her mother’s grimoire. The book almost sang when it touched her skin, and she swore she nearly heard her mother sigh. Giddy with relief, she clutched the grimoire to her chest, defying anyone to take it away again.

“The lord commander is also many things. In this, he was wrong. Please accept my apologies.”

“How did you…?”

Eydis shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult with Ulrich gone.”

“She picked the lock,” Hilde whispered loudly.

Ravenna’s eyes rounded with surprise. “You would take such a risk?”

The orcess snorted. “It’s hardly a risk. He hasn’t changed the lock in over a decade.”

Her mind whirred with the implications, but most important was that the sister of her azai had done this for her. Knowing something of the canny orcess, it wasn’t without its reasons, but that mattered far less to Ravenna than having the grimoire back.

Ravenna reached to place her hand on Eydis’s shoulder. “Thank you, Eydis. This book is precious to me.”

Expression gone serious, the orcess nodded in understanding. “I know what it is to only have a few precious things left of a beloved mother. Had they been taken from me, I wouldn’t have been half as restrained as you.”

Ravenna’s restraint had been born from a need to survive, but she suspected Eydis understood that, too. This gesture wouldn’t ever be forgotten.

Clapping her hands, Eydis announced, “Now, onto business. I’m afraid this isn’t a mere social call.”

No, Eydis didn’t seem the type to ever make social calls. Information-gathering excursions, yes.

With a fond look at her mate, Eydis explained, “Hilde is the best seamstress in Balmirra and owns one of the most successful workshops in the city. She’s come to take your measurements.”

Ravenna’s brows rose again. She didn’t know why she’d let them descend from her hairline in the first place. “Whatever for?”

“An excuse to meet you, for one,” said Hilde.

“And for when my brother makes up his mind,” added Eydis.

“ And do you really want to wear that robe around forever?”

Ravenna peered down at herself. She honestly hadn’t thought about her attire much. Bryn had provided an extra robe, and it was far more comfortable than her disguise kirtles.