Page 23 of Faeling (Monstrous World #4)

Honestly, she hadn’t thought about her attire much at all throughout her life.

She and her mother wore practical trou for working, breezy cotton or linen shifts in the summer, and heavier wool skirts in the winter.

While her father always provided the best of everything, including silks to line their garments, brocades and fashionable cuts served little purpose in their cottage.

The only real nod they made to beautiful clothes were the embroidery they added, something to do during the long winter evenings.

“What else am I supposed to languish in captivity in?” she asked, earning her a round of laughs from the orcesses.

“You’ll only have to bear your captivity a little longer, I suspect,” said Eydis as she settled down into one of the plush chairs in the den. “Even a king must obey their beast, and his will make him pay for this separation.”

Ravenna cared less about his being gone than her being confined, but she kept that to herself. At least for now, she had company.

Hilde ushered her to one of the low tables and helped her step up onto it. It made her only a hair taller than the orcess, but it would have to do.

Pulling a measuring ribbon from her robe pocket, Hilde mimed for Ravenna to hold her arms up parallel to the floor. She did, holding onto the grimoire. It was too soon to let it go again.

“May I?” asked Hilde before coming closer with her ribbon.

Ravenna swallowed hard. Orcs were far more tactile than she was used to. She doubted Hilde ever needed to ask any of her other clients. That she did planted a little seed of fondness in Ravenna’s heart.

“Yes. But…please don’t touch my back.”

“All right,” the orcess agreed easily. Hilde seemed to think nothing of it, but Ravenna didn’t have to look to know Eydis’s eyes glinted with interest. There would be nothing getting past her.

“So, Ravenna. Tell me about yourself.” Not really a question from Eydis.

Ravenna’s gaze fell to Hilde, and the orcess’s lips twitched into a grin as she rolled her eyes. “Humor her while I do this, if you please.”

Clearing her throat, Ravenna began, “Well, I lived with my mother by the sea…”

And so Ravenna spent her afternoons, Eydis and Hilde making a point to visit every day of Vallek’s absence. Hilde often brought fabrics for Ravenna to see and feel, wanting a better sense of what would suit her.

“Your coloring is beautiful,” she remarked, “I’ve so many ideas!”

Something about her fervor, and the stylish way she dressed herself, had Ravenna sweating.

Still, she liked the orcesses very much, and if sampling fabrics and letting Hilde stick pins into prototypes was how she had to spend her time, there were certainly worse things.

Though subtle, the afternoon never went without Eydis fishing for more information. Ravenna revealed enough of what she thought would satisfy Vallek’s sister. She didn’t think it dangerous to speak of her mother and their cottage, nor the little beach where they fished and looked for sea glass.

These soft interrogations had to be borne, of course, and weren’t unexpected. Still, it was a relief when the subject turned to politics.

When Eydis asked what she knew of the conflict between fae and orcs, Ravenna delighted in discussing one of her favorite subjects—history.

Much as she might have resented her father’s plans, she’d loved nothing more than spending an evening listening to him tell her the many stories of his people.

He brought her books of history, rhetoric, philosophy, and mathematics. He taught her languages and swordplay.

In everything he did, Maxim ensured that Ravenna knew about the world she’d one day be thrown into.

Staying with her mother for decades by the sea meant that she didn’t truly understand the world—she quickly found that out when she snuck into a certain chieftain’s camp—but still, her father had done everything in his power to arm her.

Eydis too had a love of history, and it was a treat to compare the histories they knew from a different perspective.

With only an occasional good-humored eye roll, Hilde listened on as afternoons were spent debating important decisions and turning points, their discussions often continuing over dinners.

Eydis seemed pleased with Ravenna’s knowledge, especially over internal orcish politics.

“Well, I have been paying attention,” she delighted in informing her. “Not just sitting around waiting to have visions.”

“Indeed. And what say you about the marriage question?”

Hilde snorted over her chickpea and goat meat pie. “Is that what they’re calling it? The marriage question? ”

“Yes,” Eydis sighed. “Hardly original.”

Ravenna pushed the seasoned carrots and chickpeas around her plate. “I don’t have an unbiased opinion.”

“I should hope not. Neither do I.” Eydis popped a spoonful of pie into her mouth, waiting for Ravenna’s answer.

“It seems…short-sighted to agree to an Innrini bride,” she said finally.

“Why do you say that?”

“It will bring Hrothgar onside, yes, but it will also invite him into Vallek’s circle.

He will be family . He’ll try to influence Balmirra through his daughter or niece.

Vallek will never be rid of him. Such influence may very well ostracize other chieftains like Kennum, who will certainly be offended that one of his own daughters wasn’t chosen instead. ”

Sitting back in her seat, Eydis swirled her goblet of wine with a satisfied grin. “Very good. We’ll make a politician of you yet.”

Ravenna bit back her satisfaction. It shouldn’t please her so much to have impressed Eydis, but here she was.

“Well then, you little tyrants, what’s the answer instead?” asked Hilde.

Eydis grunted unhappily. “Now that’s the question.”

Ravenna’s satisfaction fizzled when she realized even Eydis didn’t have an answer to this mating mess.

She knew she couldn’t be Vallek’s mate, not in truth. Being a true mate to him would mean abandoning her plans, everything she’d worked for to avenge her parents. Taking a half-fae queen would mean forsaking his own plans and everything he’d worked for to unify the orcish territories.

It was and would always be impossible. A cruel joke by the fates. There was no use mourning what would never be, nor missing someone she would never truly have.

She didn’t consider it a mistake that she never saw visions of herself beyond her campaign of vengeance. Whatever her fate, it was tied with Amaranthe’s. Her future wasn’t hers to give.

Stubborn as he might be, not even a king could change fate.

On the fourth day of her solitude, she received her visit far earlier in the day—and this time it was Asta rather than Eydis.

Vallek’s younger sister breezed into the suite, light on her feet despite hauling an enormous basket. Even set on the ground, it rose nearly to her hip, with a lid almost as wide as Ravenna’s wingspan.

“Good morning, tristah, ” she chirped.

“Good morning,” Ravenna replied, hiding her smile at being called little sister .

“I’ve been talking with Hilde, and we had an idea. I know you’ve been cooped up in here, so…” Asta gestured at the enormous basket.

Ravenna scowled. “No.”

“But it’s perfect! You’ll fit just fine.”

“It’s a laundry basket.”

“Yes. That’s why no one will suspect.” Asta winked. “Go put on your human disguise.”

It was ridiculous, but Ravenna still found herself eyeing the basket. She would indeed fit. Rather comfortably, actually.

The truth was, apart from her visits with Eydis and Hilde, she was breathtakingly bored. Cooped up was an understatement. She’d scream if she embroidered anything else, and she’d already reread her mother’s grimoire twice.

There were only so many baths and naps she could take. And sleeping in Vallek’s big bed, the silk bedding saturated in his scent, only made it worse.

Her desire for him had been bad enough but manageable when she was hidden in her disguise. Now though, having been recognized and acknowledged by his beast, her needs were growing more acute. More than once, she’d come awake from a hazy dream of him, her hand caught between her legs.

She refused to touch herself in his bed, and after that disastrous night of angry passion, she didn’t dare do it elsewhere, either. The temptation was too great. Given the chance, she’d roll herself up in his sheets and never stop. Not until he returned and she begged him to make the aching stop.

So, no, she dared not even start for fear of never stopping.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking she spent her time longing for him.

A day outside could help. She could truly stretch her legs. Get a little sunshine. Perhaps even visit the herd and quell their more murderous plots to take the city and overthrow its government in her name.

“It’s your choice,” Asta said, far less subtle than her sister would be, “if you really want to spend another day in here…”

“ Fine, ” Ravenna relented. “But if anyone asks, this was your doing.”

Asta hooted with laughter as Ravenna ran to put on her human disguise.

In no time at all, she was huddled in the basket, wearing a plain brown kirtle as well as her cloak.

Asta piled more linens on top of her, giving the appearance of true laundry.

The air was oppressively hot within the basket, and when Asta picked it up to begin walking, a moment of seasickness accosted Ravenna’s stomach as she swayed.

Her attack of nerves didn’t help as the door opened and they walked past the guards. With a friendly word from Asta, they closed the door, not even asking to see inside the basket or check that Ravenna was still within the suite.

The thrill of getting out was tempered only by her swelling nausea. There was nothing to really see in the basket, the weave too tight to spy out of, and so Ravenna closed her eyes and listened as Asta strode down through the citadel.

They crossed paths with dozens of orcs, many of whom called out greetings to Asta that she returned. Still, the orcess’s pace never slowed, and no one ever stopped to peer inside the basket.

Ravenna could hardly believe her luck, and it was downright shocking when Asta finally came to a stop and put down the basket. Cool air smacked Ravenna’s face as the orcess lifted the layers of fabric off her.

“Welcome to freedom, tristah! ” Asta whispered.

Poking her head out, Ravenna took the hand Asta offered and quickly clambered out of the basket in her human face.

Asta peered down at her false face, releasing a low whistle. “It’s uncanny. I can see you under there in a way. But you look every bit the human.”

“I’ve gotten a lot of practice.” Looking around, Ravenna realized they were standing in a quiet part of the citadel, near where the laundry did truly get done. A small door in the curtain wall would lead down a set of narrow steps onto a side street below.

Replacing the lid on the basket, Asta said, “Meet me back here before sundown and I’ll take you back up.”

“I will.”

“And don’t even think of leaving the city. Ulrich’s warned the garrison to keep an eye out for you, particularly at the gates.” Pointing a big green finger in Ravenna’s face, she warned, “Don’t make me regret this, tristah .”

“I won’t. I promise.”