Page 50 of When the Merchant Met the Orc

“Believe me, loving a youngling is worth the spots on clothing, the occasional disaster, and the inherent drama.”

“You’re considering my offer to marry and work together for him, aren’t you?”

“That’s not the only reason. I’m serious about my business.”

“I know you are. Everyone I met on my way into the square spoke highly of you. But I heard something else. Something I hadn’t already figured out myself.”

“What’s that?”

“This was probably rude of me now that I’ve had time to think it over, but well, the talk around your little town here is that you want Nate to attend Ivydowns.”

“How long have you been here today to find that out?”

“I arrived in the early afternoon, actually.”

“Then why did you come to the party late?”

“Because I was busy sending tuition funds to Ivydowns for Nate.”

“What?” I realize I’m standing. “We haven’t signed a contract. Why would you do that?”

“It was pushy of me. I’m sorry. I can take the money back. But Rychell, will you consider something before you instruct me to do that?”

I am furious. That was a step too far. But I sit again, even though I’m fuming. “Talk.”

Chapter 26

Halvard

Realizing my nails are digging into my palms, I force my fists to relax. I hate seeing Rychell with Osric. If she was head over heels for him, I would wish them well. But she’s not. Her discomfort with this decision of hers is written in every stiff line of her beautiful body. Her shoulders are bunched toward her ears. As she sits, she crosses her legs tightly and turns slightly away from Osric. Her lips are pursed. She is bullying herself into this sham of a relationship.

I wish I could assure her that I would never leave her or Nate and that I would do absolutely anything to help her business. I know she’s attracted to me. That hasn’t changed. Her scent is easy for me to find now, even at a crowded event like this.

“That’s not how you get them into bed, friend.” Cyrus has walked up and is slapping me on the back. “You should toss that icy gal over a shoulder and make her melt.”

I know he’s joking, so I shake my head. “I still have a chance.”

“You do. Until they seal the deal at the altar.”

“Yep.”

“Have they set a date?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Would she have told you?”

“Not sure.”

Cyrus puts a mug of strongly scented ale in my hand. “Drink this and we can keep plotting.”

I laugh and take a hearty swallow. It smells of cinnamon like Rychell’s hair. I finish the mug.

“Thanks for the support,” I say to Cyrus.

“You’re basically my brother at this point, so no need to thank me. When you’re happy, I’m happy.”

I clasp his shoulder and squeeze, my heart warming.