Page 6

I go back to the window and lean out, trying to see where the thief might’ve climbed over, but I can’t spot anything from here.

I’ll need to go out and check from street level.

Fast, since I’ve only got a couple hours before I report to Major Strahl and take over the evening shift watching the Ravens’ crew headquarters.

I consider bringing the whole lockbox with me, but it’s too bulky to haul around all day, especially if I’m going to be crawling over rooftops.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the note Marut left yesterday when he couldn’t find me.

He and his human mate, Violet, arrived in Ultrup four days ago with their twins, and with Sarrai, my best friend.

I should be staying at the clan’s townhouse with them, but the sudden crowd pushed me to move to this inn.

I didn’t want to be in the way, not when they arrived with a whole caravan to trade and haul supplies back to Bellhaven and the Hill.

I’d stayed long enough, taking advantage of free lodging while volunteering for Major Strahl.

But I’ll be leaving soon. I packed my things and let them settle in, though Violet had protested and said she felt awful about chasing me out.

Sarrai tried to get me to stay, too, though less insistently than Violet.

I guess I’ve been a lousy friend to her, always chasing my fortune.

She never understood how I could leave the Hill, but if she’s content to wait for her perfect lady, I’m not.

My whole life feels narrowed down to one thing—finding my mate.

I tear off a piece of Marut’s dinner invitation and wedge it into the narrow gap between the window and frame. It should be invisible from outside, but if it falls out of place, at least I’ll know someone’s been in here.

Then I slip the note back into my pocket.

If I can make it to dinner tonight, I will, if only to appease Violet and make sure she’s not fussing over me.

From the letters my friends and family have been sending, I think they’re all more than a little concerned about me.

I’ve always put the clan first and helped with whatever they needed.

Yet every time one of my friends found a mate, I grew more and more anxious to meet one of my own.

It’s not about fucking, either. There was enough of that to be had for any unattached, willing person, either in Ultrup or at the Hill.

But all those arrangements have been temporary, destined to fizzle out, because that’s the way orcs are.

I was free to be with whomever I wanted, but only for a short time, because I know that somewhere out there, she is waiting for me.

My fated mate, the woman destined to be mine.

The same went for any of the women I’ve been with.

I was never their final choice. Though that didn’t bother me at first, those shallow connections lost their appeal over the years.

The issue is, my mate might not feel the same, not if she’s human.

They don’t make the same lifelong commitments as we do.

In my desperation, I’ve even thought of returning to the Stonefrost Clan lands, to the old kingdom we escaped from more than a decade ago.

But I value my life, and I know any Bellhaven Clan orc would likely be killed on sight crossing the Stonefrost Clan’s borders.

So I’m hoping I’ll find my mate before I have to resort to that.

My mood takes another turn downward when I discover that my soap is missing.

There’s no real way to misplace a bar of fucking soap, and I doubt the maids would have thrown out a fresh cake of homemade stuff.

That means the thieves must have taken it, and I can’t think of a single good reason for them to do so.

I’m dealing with madmen.

I braid my hair and secure it with a tie, throw a cloak around my shoulders, and make sure the Duke’s papers are still in it.

I’ll need them today. The Duke’s seal goes a long way in convincing people I’ve got a right to question them or search their houses, even if I don’t wear the city watch colors like all the other guards.

A light drizzle mists the city when I walk from the inn and into the street.

I turn my face to the sky for a moment, surveying the rooftops, but there’s no sign of anyone crawling up there.

Not that I expected it. The thieves struck at night, which makes sense.

Darkness gives them cover, and late-morning light is the worst for skulking around.

They’re probably asleep right now after drinking away their stolen loot.

And they likely threw away my letters when they realized they’d stolen useless personal correspondence.

My blood boils at the thought, and I bang on the door of the townhouse across the way with more force than necessary.

A moment later, a short, stocky man throws the door open and scowls at me. “What is the meaning of this racket? Who are you?”

I grit my teeth and try to school my face into some semblance of a smile.

“Hello. My name is Arlon, son of Takmor, and I would like access to your roof.” I reach into my coat pocket and withdraw the Duke’s letter stating that I’m part of a team of guards tasked with making this city safe.

“I’m searching for a group of burglars who may have been using the roof of your house as a perch to watch the homes and establishments on this street. ”

The man squints down at the Duke’s seal, then reaches out and inspects it closely, tilting it this way and that as if trying to tell if it’s legitimate.

“I haven’t heard anything about any burglaries,” he replies finally, thrusting the letter back at me. “How can I know you’re not only trying to rob us ?”

My smile is more than a little strained as I force out a partial truth.

“A hotel guest at the inn across the street was robbed last night, and we’ve heard rumors of another job being planned.

” I lower my voice and glance to the side, pretending to check for anyone who might be eavesdropping.

“They gained access through the upstairs window, sir. Are your upper floors secure?”

“Yannik!” an outraged female voice pipes up from behind the door. “Is he saying someone might break into the house through a window ?”

“Hush,” the man says, turning his head to speak to the woman. “Not now, darling.”

“Don’t you hush me. Our children sleep in those rooms. Are you saying you want some filthy thief walking through their rooms to get to your office safe?”

The man turns an interesting shade of red, his brow showing the first faint drops of sweat. “No, of course not. Er, you said you needed access to our roof?”

I could kiss the woman. “Aye, that’s right. We don’t know how they’re getting up there yet, but if you have a roof window I could peek through, that would be wonderful.”

He clears his throat, visibly wrestling with himself, then finally steps back and motions me inside. “Come on, then. I’ll show you the servant’s stairway. It’s the only way to reach the attic.”

I duck into the cool shadow of the entryway. A woman steps into view, slightly younger than the man, her posture poised, her dress simple but finely made. They’re merchant class, clearly successful enough to afford a house in this tidy district of Ultrup, but careful not to flaunt their money.

The entryway feels almost austere, but as I step farther inside, the thick carpet muffles my steps, my heels sinking deep into its lush pile.

“Good morning, madam,” I say with a respectful bow and a smile. “I’m so sorry to disturb your day. But we’re trying to capture the thieves, you see.”

She flushes a soft pink and raises a hand to pat her hair back into place. “Of course. We’re happy to help.”

Her husband, still scowling, crosses his arms. “Yes, well, can we get this over with?”

I trail behind him as he strides down the hallway, his boots clicking on the dark wood floor. We pass the grand staircase and enter the kitchen, where the scent of bread and roasted vegetables still clings to the air. The woman follows, footsteps light, and soon I hear the patter of little feet.

Glancing back, I spot three children, two girls and a boy, staring up at me with wide blue eyes. The boy’s mouth hangs open, a wooden horse gripped tightly in one chubby fist. When he notices me watching him, he blinks, then darts behind his mother’s skirts.

The merchant leads me to a narrow wooden staircase at the back of the house and begins to climb, clearly not willing to let me wander around alone.

I don’t blame him. But to his credit, he doesn’t scold the children or order his wife to keep them out of sight.

He’s not one of those humans who distrust orcs on principle.

I wonder if our clan has done business with him before.

The thieves couldn’t have picked a more fortunate house to squat on.

“We should tell them,” comes a whispered voice from behind.

“No, we’ll get in trouble !” another hisses back.

The two girls are whispering with their heads close together. They must think we can’t hear them. Or perhaps their parents can’t, as neither of them reacts. I tune out the merchant’s heavy breathing and focus on the girls’ words instead.

“But what if it wasn’t a cat we heard? I don’t want a thief to come into my room at night.”

I clear my throat. “Has anyone reported any unusual sounds?” I ask the merchant. “Perhaps a servant who might have visited the attic recently?”

The man shakes his head. “No, there’s nothing of use up there, apart from storage for some old clothes and furniture. Bits and bobs, you know how it is.”

I don’t, actually. I grew up in an underground palace without an attic, but there’s no use explaining that. I hum in agreement anyway and I glance over my shoulder again. The older girl stares up at me, chin lifted. I smother a grin—she’s feisty, that one.

Then I shift my gaze to her sister. “Did you notice anything strange, young lady?”