Page 18 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

If Ronhold noticed her state, he didn’t make it known.

The powerful merchant rose to his feet with well-kept clothes of cotton and leather and a wide grin that engulfed his rounded face.

Ronhold looked like he was about to cut a deal sharp enough to make her toes curl.

Though, at this point, Trinia couldn’t be certain if that was because he was about to don her feet in some of his best footwear or attempt to chop off her toes.

“Trinia”—Ronhold’s grin somehow widened—“glad you could finally get here. We’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

“I had no idea,” Trinia said, casting Yerina a look out of the corner of her eye. Her sister refused to meet her gaze.

“You were at the bakery, weren’t you?” Ronhold asked, and Trinia was surprised to see a gleam of pride in his eye.

“Yes.” She glanced at Tobbis, who’s head was down as he also avoided eye contact. The boy was all bunched in on himself, shoulders hunched, fists balled on the tabletop.

“You work hard, don’t you, Trinia?”

“I believe that’s subjective based on who you are asking.”

“You supply bread to the village daily. I would say that is hard work.”

“I suppose.”

“You even moved into the bakery so you could complete tasks more easily. Bake more efficiently.”

“Why are you asking me all this?” Trinia narrowed her eyes.

“Why don’t you go sit down, Trinia?” Yerina said before Ronhold could answer. She pushed the small of Trinia’s back.

Trinia stepped away from her sister’s prodding. “I’d rather stand, thank you.”

Ronhold slapped his son’s arm. “Quite right, it’s better to stand for these things.”

“Father,” Tobbis hissed, as his father tugged him to his feet. He cast a disgusted look Trinia’s way before his gaze lingered on Yerina. “You said we would discuss first.”

“What is there to discuss?” Ronhold swept his hand toward Trinia. “She’s the best fit, clearly. Hard working. Dedicated. You would do well to learn from her.”

Trinia blinked rapidly in shock. “You... want me to take your son on as an apprentice?”

The idea of having to spend so much time with Tobbis made her skin crawl.

Ronhold burst into robust laughter that flooded the house until she felt like she was drowning.

“Of course not!” Ronhold’s voice was tinged with mirth. “No, no. Though I suppose you could consider him as such in some respects. He does have quite a bit of maturing to do, but I know with you at his side, he’ll age into a fine man.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Tobbis will be wed.”

The statement hit her so hard she felt like she’d been slapped across the face.

“It’s the perfect union. Tobbis needs to learn some discipline and working with you in the bakery will be just the thing to do it.”

She was reeling, completely gobsmacked. Her whole body froze up to the point that she couldn’t get air into her lungs, and the room spun a little.

“Tobbis, tell her how excited you are to be her new husband.”

The boy had gone pale, and his nose curled like he’d smelled something foul.

“Tobbis has been waiting a long time to come of age. He’s always wanted to have children. And won’t they be lucky to be born into such a profitable family?”

He’d always wanted what ? Trinia felt sick and she could tell from the color of Tobbis’s complexion he felt much the same.

“With my business sense, I’m certain I can make significantly better trades and get the bakery running the way it was meant to. Both you and your children will sing my praises by the end.”

The words punctuated through Trinia like a poker. They left her feeling raw, heated, and determined to escape this complete insanity.

She turned on her heel and stomped toward the exit.

“Where are you going?” Yerina snapped.

“Away from the lot of you. This is madness. I’m not marrying anyone.”

“Trinia, Tobbis will make you a fine husband,” Yerina said.

“I am not marrying the cobbler’s son.” Trinia punctuated each word so hard that she could feel them vibrating in the air around them.

“I think you will.” Ronhold’s confidence was something tangible, and Trinia could feel herself sinking even before he finished. “Because if you don’t, you will lose the bakery entirely.”

Trinia sputtered, undaunted by the man’s ruthless tone. “The bakery has belonged to my family for generations. You can’t do anything to change that.”

“I’m sure this is all coming as quite a shock to you.

Yerina tells me she never actually told you about the predicament you’re in.

” Ronhold looked her square in the eye, and she couldn’t break his stare as he shattered her world.

“The bakery is ours , girl. And I’ve got the contracts here to prove it. ”

Trinia felt a zing of fear go down her spine. Ronhold picked up a scroll that she hadn’t noticed on the table and displayed it to her view. “Take a look for yourself.”

Trinia’s hands shook as she snatched the yellowed and frayed paper from the man’s hands. She unrolled it to find her late father’s scrawling handwriting marring the surface.

A contract. A contract to get liquor on a regular basis from Ronhold.

In exchange for the bakery.

Her knees felt weak, her head spun, and the forest around her dimmed. “This... this cannot be.”

“I’m sure you recognize your father’s hand and signature. You see the bakery was officially owned by me the moment he died. It’s out of the good of my own heart that I allowed you and your sister to continue working these last few years. Well... that and Yerina’s prompting.”

Trinia shot a look at her sister and her stomach dropped so hard she felt dizzy. Yerina’s head was bowed, her eyes were misty, and her posture was defeated .

Trinia had never seen her sister look contrite before.

“She convinced me that the bakery means nothing without you at the helm to bake. And I very much agree. You have a keen talent, Trinia. Though you aren’t so wise on the business side of things.

You give far too much away and offer far more charity than I will allow.

Giving away food to the needy and elderly.

.. pah! What good does that do you other than to diminish your resources?

Better to give scraps to the pigs. At least they get fattened up for our table. ”

Fury sparked in Trinia’s veins and the itch to slap the horrible man was so strong her palm tingled.

“From this moment forward, you will obey my commands, and I’ll hear no complaints. I could have left you destitute long ago, you know? Why, I’ve been extremely generous in allowing you to not only continue to take all the bakery’s profit, but also live inside it.”

“I’ll... I’ll go to Headman Gerald,” Trinia said in desperation, but Ronhold only laughed. The chortling sound swirled around her.

“Go right ahead, Trinia. This contract is completely valid . Anyone can see that’s your father’s signature.”

“Yes, and you took advantage of him. He was struggling, desperate, unable to give up the drink, and you took full advantage of that.”

“He was well enough to understand what he was doing,” Ronhold said. “I have three witnesses to contest if you try to say I forced his hand.”

“You did force his hand. You found his weakness and exploited him!”

Ronhold shrugged his thick shoulders, as if taking advantage of a drunken man was nothing of his concern. “That’s business.”

Trinia felt like she would be sick.

“I highly suggest you marry Tobbis.” Ronhold gestured to his son, who was standing behind him, looking pale and uncomfortable with his jaw clenched tight. His eyes shifted from Trinia to Yerina and the longing in his gaze when he looked at her sister was clear.

“If you don’t marry him, you’ll have no stake in the bakery whatsoever.”

A sinking feeling pulled Trinia down, sucking her in until she felt like she was being swallowed up whole.

There was no way out of this.

She couldn’t escape.

She was going to lose everything .

But she couldn’t give in. She just couldn’t!

She went to the front door and yanked hard.

It did not budge.

It was locked.

Her hand shot up to the bolt and found it had been replaced with one that required a key.

“Yerina! Let me out right now.”

“I can’t do that, Trinia. It’s high time you marry.”

“Excuse me?”

Yerina took her wrist. “Trinia, be reasonable?—”

Trinia yanked her hand out of Yerina’s grip so violently that her sister tripped. Then, without thought, Trinia marched over to one of the mended windows and threw it open with ease. It slid like a hot knife through butter. Didn’t even creak.

“Trinia, what are you doing?”

Yerina’s cry did nothing to stop her. Nothing could at this point.

“Stop this madness.” Ronhold barreled toward her.

But he wasn’t fast enough. In a blink, she swung up onto the sill and jumped out into the night.

“Trinia!” Her sister screeched on the wind. Trinia landed with a hard thud and broke into a run.

There was a lower bellow, likely from Ronhold, but she couldn’t make it out with the sound of the wind roaring in her ears.

She had to get out of here.

She had to get away.

She rounded a bend in the path and came into the clearing before the village gates. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but it still took her a moment to realize the gates were shut.

Of course they were. It was nearly the end of the day.

But she certainly wasn’t going to let that stop her. Because the only other option was to face the end of her life as she knew it.

She turned on her heel to run down along the wall, to the crack in the base she used to slip through as a child. She found it by muscle memory and tried to shove her way inside without thinking.

The space was so much smaller than she’d realized, but she pushed on without care. Brittle branches tore at her clothes and cut into her arms. One slashed her cheek, and she swiped at it, cursing at the stinging the action caused. Her hand came back wet with blood.

Her body was zinging with fury, and her mind was desperate for escape. She clawed her way through, and the branches gave into her demands, breaking apart to make room.

She burst out on the other side. Out of the village and into the night.

She set a bruising clip into the woods, uncaring where she went.

Undaunted by the dark and chill. The snow crunched under her feet and soaked into her leather shoes.

Shoes that had not been made by Ronhold.

She’d never once given him her business.

She’d never wanted anything to do with him or his high prices or his ruthless ways.

And now he was going to take control of her mother’s bakery.

Of her life .

And there was nothing she could do about it.

“Fuck you, Ronhold!” she screamed into the night as her steps slowed. Her lungs were giving out, but her fury had only just begun. “You and your worthless, whiny son! And fuck you Yerina! I hope you choke on that worthless selfishness of yours!”

If she hadn’t stolen all those pans, if she had just helped around the bakery like she was supposed to, perhaps Trinia would have been able to make enough profit to trade back the bakery.

If only she hadn’t given away so much free bread.

If only she hadn’t spent so much time on worthless house plans.

If only she could work faster and better and...

And if only Brovdir, the new chief of Rove Wood, hadn’t cut her off so completely, he might have been able to help her.

It wasn’t rational. She knew that. But the anger gripped her nonetheless.

“Curse you too, Brovdir! None of this would have happened if you’d just traded with me!”

She screamed, as loud as she possibly could. So loud that the Fades themselves would wake from their slumber. So loud that her rage bloomed into the woods and shook the ground under her feet.

No, the ground under her feet actually shook.

Trinia’s scream broke off as she looked down. The snowy ground was rippling . There was an odd roaring sound.

And then the surface of the ground ripped open .

Her stomach plunged.

And her whole body plunged with it as she fell into the dark icy depths.