Page 51 of The Orc and the Innkeeper

I think back to all the times Thorak talked about his vision for the brewery, how he wanted it to be a place that brought the magical and non-magical communities together. A symbol of unity and understanding.

And regardless of what happened between us…if there’s even a small chance that his vision for his brewery is real, I want the business to succeed.

I can’t let Kingsley leave without trying to salvage this deal.

Decision made, I come around the desk, startling him.

“Robert, wait.” I plant myself in his path, holding up my hands. “Please. I need to talk to you before you go.”

He arches an imperious brow. “I think you and your ‘fiancé’ have done quite enough talking, don’t you? Now if you’ll excuse me?—”

“Just hear me out,” I plead. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

Kingsley heaves a put-upon sigh, but to my relief, he sets down his luggage. “Fine. You have five minutes. Start talking.”

I meet Kingsley’s steely gaze head-on. “As you know now, Thorak and I were never actually engaged. It was all a ruse, a ploy to win your investment.”

Kingsley’s eyes narrow, his face darkening with displeasure. “I see. So you thought it appropriate to deceive me, to manipulate me for financial gain?”

“No, that’s not—” I break off, shaking my head. “We shouldn’t have misled you. And I’m sorry for that, truly. But Robert, the only reason we even considered such a scheme was because of your own prejudices.”

“Excuse me?” Kingsley sputters indignantly.

“You made it very clear that you wanted to see human involvement in Thorak’s business,” I press on, undeterred. “That you didn’t believe an orc could be a capable businessman on his own merits. Isn’t that right?”

Kingsley opens his mouth, clearly prepared to argue, but then something shifts in his expression. A flicker of realization, perhaps even a touch of chagrin. “I...suppose I may have implied as much, yes.”

I soften my tone, sensing an opening. “And now? After spending time here, getting to know Thorak and his vision...what do you think of him as a business owner?”

Kingsley is silent for a moment, considering. “I must admit, I’ve been quite impressed with what he’s managed to build,” he acknowledges grudgingly. “His brewery shows immense promise. The only thing giving me doubts is this whole fake engagement scheme.”

“Robert, that was on me,” I say quietly, my voice trembling. “I’m the one who proposed the idea to Thorak. I needed money to handle an unexpected crisis here at the inn, and I...I took advantage of his need. Of his dream. If it wasn’t for my selfishness, Thorak would’ve come clean to you from the start.”

I blink back the sudden sting of tears.

“Please, don’t blame Thorak for any of this,” I continue. “The fault is mine, and mine alone. He’s a hard worker who deserves a chance to prove himself. To make his vision a reality.”

Kingsley regards me with a frown, and for a moment, I’m certain he’s going to walk away, my pleas falling on deaf ears.

But then, to my shock, he nods slowly.

“Alright, Ms. Parker. You’ve given me much to consider.” He picks up his luggage once more, but pauses. “I’ll be in touch with Thorak directly. To discuss…potential next steps.”

With that, he strides past me and out the door, leaving me standing alone in the lobby, my pulse racing and my emotions a tangled mess.

24

THORAK

Islump back against the couch cushions, surveying the wreckage of my usually tidy living room. Empty beer bottles litter the coffee table, mingling with days-old takeout containers. Clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor. It’s like a tornado tore through here, leaving chaos in its wake.

I suppose that tornado is me.

Snuffles snorts softly beside me, his tiny snout twitching as he burrows deeper into my side. I stroke his glossy fur absentmindedly, my chest constricting as I think back on the events that led me here.

Mariah’s face flashes through my mind—the hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she confronted me in the town square last week, in front of everyone. The way her voice cracked as she ended things between us.

I rake a hand through my overgrown beard, wincing as my fingers catch on tangles. I haven’t had the energy or motivation to groom myself since that day.

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