Page 55 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

Chapter

Forty-Three

TRINIA

“ I t’s cold out. Take another cloak.”

Brovdir held the thick leather garment out and Trinia could feel herself start to sweat already.

“Two is more than enough, Brovdir. It’s not that cold.”

His hand came up to brush at her cheek. “You still feel chilled from yesterday.”

“I am not.” She clasped his hand, but couldn’t bring herself to push him away. Not after everything from the night before.

It had taken until dark to get the wall braced properly. Nearly every able-bodied man in the village and every orc conjurer had worked tirelessly at the task. Cutting trees, hammering limbs together, digging holes to set the logs.

Brovdir had lost his voice almost completely, but he’d still managed to organize the orcs. It was like the warriors could read his mind and the conjurers took lead from them. Watching Brovdir so effortlessly give orders by way of pointed looks and hand gestures was...

“You did really well yesterday.” She reached up to stroke his forehead with her free hand, brushing away his shaggy hair. “You’re a good chief.”

He smiled in a way that made her heart flip over and touched his forehead to hers. “Because of you.”

“You were always a good leader, Brovdir.”

“And you helped me to see it.”

She was flooded with warmth and went up on her toes to kiss him. She could feel every bit of his devotion to her in the way he kissed her. It rooted her to the spot. Rooted her to him.

“Must go,” he said against her lips, even as she teased him further. Gave into her, dueling with her tongue before groaning. “Trinia, the headman.”

With that reminder, she found the will to break off the kiss. “I suppose we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Brovdir nodded and then led her out of his tree, into the crisp dawn. The sun had barely started to rise, but the world was iced over. Glittering frost lined every leaf and twig. The path crunched under her feet. It smelled fresh and crisp.

It was so beautiful it was almost painful. She’d only spent two nights here, and it already felt like home.

“Thank you again.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “For letting me live with you.”

He plucked a kiss to her forehead, and they continued up the path, hand in hand.

She looked up at the canopy of trees, at the blue sky poking through the barren branches.

The orange of fall was gone and replaced with the crisp smell of incoming winter.

“This really is the end, isn’t it? My job as town baker is over. ”

Today was likely the last day she would ever step foot in the bakery. Her chest felt tight and she couldn’t manage a full breath.

“Wish it was your choice,” Brovdir said quietly. “Your choice to stay with me.”

Trinia blinked up at him in shock. His expression was tense, telling her that while she’d been lost in her thoughts, he’d been lost in his too.

“It is my choice. I could stay anywhere. I have many friends who would take me in. I’m choosing you, Brovdir.

” She wasn’t certain of anything else, but staying with him she was certain of.

“What if the bakery was a choice?” Brovdir asked, holding her gaze. “Would you go back?”

Her stomach dropped. What good did it do to muse over things that could never be?

“Hello.”

Trinia nearly jumped out of her skin and whirled around to find Sythcol with an amused smile on his face. One that didn’t quite meet his tired eyes.

He looked far better than he had the day before though. Actually, he looked better than he had in days . His hair had been brushed out. The bags under his eyes were not so prominent.

But the blackness of his hands was darker than it had ever been. There was an odd, spiral pattern etched into them.

“Sorry.” He tugged down the sleeves of his brown cloak. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Trinia waved him off and then gave Brovdir’s hand a squeeze.

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

The lead conjurer took a long, deep breath and then said, “No. But I will after today.” He looked to Brovdir. “I’d like to come with you to speak to the headman.”

Brovdir nodded. “Good.”

Sythcol sagged with relief, and they began walking again. “I heard you did well bridging the gap yesterday.”

Trinia’s brow furrowed and Brovdir looked just as confused. “You mean the sinkhole?” he asked.

“No,” Sythcol said with a slight chuckle. “Though it is good you found a way to mend the wall. I mean the gap between the warriors and the conjurers of Rove Wood Clan. And the even wider chasm between the warriors and the humans .”

Trinia couldn’t help smiling at the memory. The villagers had been so stunned that the warrior orcs were helping mend the wall. They’d been especially shocked by Ogvick who had worked tirelessly to evacuate every child and teacher from the school.

“You make a good chief, Brovdir,” Sythcol continued. “Far better than I’d given you credit for.”

“Trinia helps.” Brovdir took her hands, and her cheeks flushed at the praise.

“That she does,” Sythcol said quietly. “Can I assume you will continue helping?”

Trinia nodded. “For as long as he wants my help.”

“Forever.” Brovdir’s grip on her hand tightened. “I want your help forever.”

A warm tingle shivered from the top of her head, all the way to her toes, and she smiled at him helplessly.

Sythcol cleared his throat. “That is good, then. With the two of you working together, I believe you will mend the bridge between our communities.” He took a deep breath. “As long as I stay out of the way.”

Trinia exchanged a shocked look with Brovdir. “Sythcol, you’re stepping down?”

The male took a deep breath and then nodded swiftly.

Decisively. “Not... completely. I’ll still aid you when you need it.

I’ll act as your second-in-command and help as much and as often as I am able.

It’s just that...” Sythcol sucked in a hard breath and closed his eyes as if trying to find the words.

“I’ve been spending too much time in Ergoth’s head. ”

Trinia clutched Brovdir’s hand tight. “What does that mean?”

Sythcol wouldn’t meet either of their gazes. “I’ve been poring over his notes, his thoughts, his very essence. It’s swirling around me faster than the sinkhole from yesterday, and I don’t have the strength to shake it off.”

He broke off and placed his palm to his forehead, wincing like a headache was blooming.

“Should you stop?” Brovdir asked.

“I can’t... I must discover what is going on, what he was hiding or we’ll...”

“We’ll what?” Trinia asked, but Sythcol just shook his head.

“So, my plan, if you will agree”—Sythcol looked at Brovdir—“is to default to you the same way you’ve been defaulting to me.”

She could feel Brovdir tensing against her.

“You’re ready,” Sythcol insisted. “You have what it takes to lead this clan well and I know you will put the wellbeing of our orcs first, both conjurers and warriors alike.”

Brovdir swallowed hard. “Will still . . . need help.”

“And I will still be around to give it. And I know Trinia will too. I know you will do well.” Sythcol chuckled, but the mirth didn’t meet his eyes as he looked up at the tree canopy and said quietly, “In many ways, you are a much better chief than I am.”

“We are good in our own ways,” Brovdir said. Then he stopped and held out his hand to Sythcol. “Leave it to me.”

Sythcol hesitated for a moment before clasping Brovdir’s hand and giving it a shake. “Thank you.”

The rest of the walk was passed in companionable silence and Trinia found herself holding Brovdir’s hand tight as the wall of oaks that gave her town its name came into view. Back when her town was founded before the wall was built, the orcs were considered fearsome enemies.

So much had changed since then. For the better.

Today she was making a change for the better too.

“Well, I’m off to pack then,” she said as they crossed through the village gates. Smoke billowed from chimneys. The paths were empty and sparkled with frost. The smell of porridge and eggs wafted in on the breeze. So familiar it made her ache.

Brovdir tightened his grip on her hand.

“I have quite a bit to do, you know?” She patted his chest. “Lots to organize and pack up.”

“You’re really moving to the clan?” Sythcol asked.

“Is that so shocking?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Your family has baked here for generations, and I know what those traditions mean to you.”

They did mean a lot to her. They had been her whole world .

Until now.

Now her world was changing.

She looked up into Brovdir’s worried eyes and went on her toes to kiss him. He leaned down so she could reach. He felt so good against her. Warm and sweet and right .

“You’ll do great.” Trinia gave him another squeeze. “I know you will.”

“Thank you.” He nuzzled the top of her head with his cheek, and she found the will to step away.

And then she turned up the path and started the familiar trail from the village gates back to her mother’s bakery.

For the last time.