Page 44 of When the Merchant Met the Orc

She doesn’t respond, but she curls into me, which I take as a good sign. I start to ask her more questions, but her finger finds my lips and she presses them to quiet me.

“Let’s sleep.”

I shut my eyes and lean my head against hers. For the first time in my life, I feel completely content.

Chapter 23

Rychell

Iwake up in Halvard’s arms, and a swirl of powerful emotions threatens to drive me mad. I can’t believe I agreed to sleep with him; it will only hurt him when I reject a romantic relationship.

But it was fantastic.

I can’t lie to myself and pretend I didn’t fully adore everything Halvard did and said to me. I will hoard those moments like a dragon does gold and silver.

The third whirling thought is the toughest for me to bear. I can imagine Nate growing attached to Halvard—who wouldn’t? He’s smart, fun, and incredibly kind. Interesting and surprising, too. But the vast majority of relationships don’t last. I’ve seen the surveys in the herald’s newspaper and how many marriage end in sadness. Numbers don’t lie, while the heart practically thrives on ridiculous optimism. Nate would be crushed if Halvard had to leave us or we had to leave Halvard. If we ever fought around him… Nate went through enough as an orphan. I will not be selfish and risk his well-being on a chance at love. I will not.

Halvard is snoring lightly, his massive arm draped over my hips. I carefully disentangle myself and stand. The cave’s entrance glows with the sunrise, and the light catches somethingsparkly on a stone not far from the pool. Errant storm magic? I hope not. I approach it carefully, then frown at my discovery.

It’s Fiorella on her back, drooling, her head tilted to one side, and her wings half folded behind her. Magic dances around her like tiny stars, and her silver and deep blue colors are brighter. Guess she feasted on Halvard’s and my passion yesterday.

“Glutton,” I mutter.

I straighten my dress and slip on my stockings and boots. Once I’m fully dressed and have an empty waterskin under my arm, I greet Tamar with some quiet words and stroking. I bridle her and lead her out of the cave so she can munch to her heart’s content and drink from the creek nearby. Purple and orange spearbeaks chirp above our heads. The light autumn breeze smells of falling leaves and someone’s distant hearth fire. Red maple and yellow broadspan leaves drift through the air and catch in Tamar’s mane. She slurps from the glittering, burbling creek, and I pick the leaves out of her horsey locks, then I braid her mane in sections.

I would be relaxed and happy in this lovely place if it weren’t for the war my mind is waging on my heart and body. Nate is my priority. His heart is what truly matters here. I want to give in to Halvard’s seduction, but I can’t. Kaya will give me a good price for the purple turmeric, but spices alone won’t pay for Ivydowns. Osric may be dull, but he’s security. My eyes fill with tears, so I wipe them quickly with the back of my hand. I take a deep breath and lock my feelings for Halvard deep inside like buried treasure.

My handsome problem stalks out of the cave like my thoughts called to him.

“Morning,” Halvard says casually. Light sparks in his eyes, and the edge of his lips quirks up before he heads for a dense part of the woods, farther from the road. “I’ll be back with some berries for breakfast.”

I stutter something vaguely friendly and approving, quickly braid my hair to match Tamar’s mane, and crouch at the creek to fill the waterskin. Halvard returns with a sack of wishberries. We gobble them up and eat some of the pale white cheese and dark bread Magnus gave us to take on our journey. Halvard chats about the blue deer he saw while gathering and about a time he caught a fawn as a youngling.

“I wanted to keep the little fellow, but of course, my father and mother made me return the creature to the forest. Orcs don’t have familiars usually, but I’ve always felt a kinship with the blue deer in this area.”

“I remember being amazed by the idea of familiars when I first came to the Veiled Kingdoms. We don’t have those in the human world. Kaya taught me about the bonding and how to tell the difference between a pet and a familiar.”

“Tamar is one to you, I think. In her way.”

“I agree, though we can’t communicate on the level that Tully does with her owl and Kaya does with Sios.”

Will Halvard ever bring up what we did in the cave and where he wants to go from here?

Or is he truly letting it go and waiting patiently for me to tell himyesorno?

I chew the inside of my cheek and ponder what might be going through his head.

We load up and finish the trip home, chatting amiably along the way. My mind rehashes the feel of Halvard pressed against me, his scent, his hands… I do my best not to dwell on those thoughts.

In Leafshire Cove, Nocturne decorations are everywhere. Orange, black, and purple strips of linen and wool dance from tree limbs to help spirits find tree portals. Dusk hollows carved from orange, yellow, and purple squashes sit at each door, one with a grin and one with a frown. Some have been carved toresemble fat cats with ears made of extra bits of squash, while others boast little bat wings.

In the market, we pass Tully who is selling her magically propelled brooms to parents of younglings who are leaping from foot to foot in excitement. Argos, her minotaur mate, stands beside her, measuring out a sparkling, purple-black potion of some sort. They wave as we go by. Kaya is at her bakery stand, handing over steaming, cinnamon-scented pastries to a family of four wolf shifters. One youngling howls in approval, and his little sister elbows him.

“Manners!” she says in her small, raspy voice.

Beside Kaya, I spy a very familiar head of dark hair. I pull Tamar to a stop.

“I’ll be right back,” I say to Halvard.