Page 25 of When the Merchant Met the Orc
“Oh,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean it that way. Sorry! I never say quite the right thing, do I? I guess you’re makingHalvard court you for longer than most, then? That’s a fine idea. It might even make for a stronger bond when you finally give yourself to him in the woods.”
I toss the needles and yarn onto the chair beside me. “I’m not giving myself to anyone anywhere!”
Aila drops her hands and her knitting into her lap. “You don’t have to yell.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Apologies, but you have to stop talking and listen to me.”
She presses her lips together and gives me a nod.
“Thank you,” I say, feeling like I can finally take a breath and clear things up. “Halvard and I will never mate. I don’t want a romantic relationship.”
“At all?” Aila studies me like I’ve grown antlers.
“My parents were in love, and that didn’t stop them from shouting at one another in anger. Love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” A memory of hiding under the kitchen table and pushing oven mitts against my ears slips through my mind, and I feel sick.
The fairy sets her hand on mine. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Rychell.”
“Thank you. It was ages ago.”
Aila goes back to knitting. “Doesn’t mean the memory can’t cut you deeply.”
I nod and focus on the soft feel of Aila’s fingers on mine. “I adopted a son. He’s been through a lot during his young life, and I want our lives to be peaceful. I don’t want a messy affair, or worse, a bad marriage. Nate deserves peace and stability.”
“Ah, that is lovely of you. How beautiful to take in an orphan and love them as your own. You are perfect for Halvard. Wait,” she says, gaze cutting from her yarn to my face. “I didn’t mean that. Of course, you are friends and that’s it.”
“Yes. I like a simple, tidy life. The only dramas I want in my life are the plays put on by the traveling actors.”
Aila laughs, and it sounds like bells. The beauty momentarily dazes me. I shake my head.
“Oh, Rychell, I can’t wait.”
“For what?”
And she laughs again. Is she suffering from madness? What is going on in this faerie’s head?
The males walk in, offering bread and cheese, so we put our knitting aside—not that I accomplished much; I’ve never been a knitter—and dig in.
“Is there any reason why you won’t consider my cousin here as a mate?” Magnus asks.
I choke on my bite of warm bread, and Halvard hands me a cup of tea from the tray.
“I’m sorry,” Halvard whispers to me. Then he faces Magnus and Aila. “Stop harassing her. I know you mean well, but she isn’t used to our pushy orcish ways. Let’s discuss tonight’s party.”
The firm tone he used makes me feel the same way I did when he dispatched those bloodthirsty thieves on the road. It’s thrilling knowing a friend who is so good to me can stop killers in their tracks and command a room filled with the two most impertinent, albeit kind, folks I’ve ever met.
I grin and finish my tea. “I hope there will be dancing.”
Aila claps her hands and bounces on her chair. “So much dancing! And since you two are friends and don’t have plans to be lovers, Halvard can possibly find a female there. Oh, you should do that. You can move here to Honey Sands, and we can get together like this every other day!”
I realize my mouth is hanging open, so I shut it quickly and look to Halvard. A coiling, nasty sensation is attacking my chest and stomach. I pick up the last slice of cheese Magnus handed tome and give it a sniff. Smells like proper cheese, not mold. Why am I feeling bad suddenly?
“Do they still do the Blind Reel?” Halvard asks, obviously changing the subject. “I’ve never danced it, but I’ve heard it’s fun.”
While Magnus and Aila are discussing who Halvard might dance with, Halvard’s gaze slides to my face, and he mouthsSo, so sorry. I wave him off.
“Yes, they usually do the Blind Reel,” Magnus answers. “It’ll commence toward the end of the evening.”
Halvard nods. He notices my empty tea cup and refills it. As he does, he looks into my eyes, then at the door. I think he’s asking if I want to leave now. I give him a very subtle nod.