Page 12 of My Orc Nanny

“What smells so—Oh.”

Yesterday had been a strange interaction with the boy. He was clearly on the cusp of puberty, and I’d learned enough about humans in the last decade—and I’ll admit, some late-night reading last night on physiology—to know the poor kid’s brain and hormones were being pulled in all directions.

“Hello,” I offered neutrually. “I’m reheating your mom’s soup. Did you want any?”

Watching me a little warily, he edged around his brother to sniff at the stove. “It smells spicy. What is it?”

I hesitated, then decided to tell him the truth. “I call it my Kickass Chicken Soup. I used to make it for my brother whenever he got sick.”

Abydos was sick a lot when we first found safety in Colorado, but he preferred the soup about eight times spicier than this.

Benny had whirled on me, brows raised. “Did you tell my mom that? Is it kickass because it’s good?”

My twin had been the one to name it. Gods below, at times like this, I missed him. I missed the peace we’d found in Bramblewood. I wished he hadn’t gone back to the mainland—to handle his business, he’d claimed—but I knew it was because he couldn’t handle being around this many humans.

But Benny was still staring at me eagerly, waiting for me to say the bad word again.

“It’skickassbecause I used to make it strong enough to kick your ass.” I held up my hand, palm out. “And I think that’s the last time we’re going to say that word around your brother, okay?”

The boy flushed guiltily and glanced at Joshua. “Why are you on the floor eating? That’s gross,” he muttered as hestruggled to lift up the toddler and carry him to his highchair.

I cocked my head to one side and watched him strap the little one in. It was clear Joshua loved his big brother, from the chortling…but Benny was frowning in concentration. He hadn’t been looking out for Joshua because he was necessarily worried, but out of…obligation?

“I’ll find you some crackers, Joshy,” he muttered, turning away.

But I was already there, holding out the box. “I got it, Benny. Or do you prefer Benjamin?”

He’d done a double take when I started to feed his little brother and now frowned thoughtfully. “My mom calls me Benny. My teacher calls me—calledme Benjamin.”

“Did you like your teacher?”

“Ms. Young? Yeah, she was cool.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared down at his bare feet. “When school’s back in, I’ll be in fifth grade. That’s the year before middle school.”

Ah. “Big changes, huh?” I said nonchalantly as I went back to measuring dry ingredients. “I’ll bet it feels a little weird to think about moving schools.”

The boy shrugged, not looking at me. “The upper school is right next door. Besides, I’m ready.” He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “I’m the man of the house, after all.”

I kept my gaze on the bowl, trying not to let him see the way my chest had tightened at that innocent comment.Obligation. That’s what this was. Where was his father? Where was Hannah’s Mate?

“You know,” I began carefully, spooning in the Greek yogurt that gave my pizza crust its tang, “orcs change our names frequently. We’re born with one name, and we get another right around the age you are, when we start to become adults. Our clans give us new names—or we choose them—with each milestone, like Mating or a battle or a particular achievement.”

“So your real name isn’t Aswan?”

“It is,” I corrected, turning out the dough to the floured counter. “I was given the name Aswan by human scientists when I crossed into the human world, and it is what your government calls me. Maybe one day I’ll choose a new name, but for now, Aswan is my real name.”

“Not a great name,” the boy muttered. “Sounds likeass-one.”

When I twisted my head to raise a brow at him, he flushed and looked away. “Let’s not use that language,” I gently chided. “Although to be fair, my brother used to say the same thing.”

“The brother who you made the soup for?” he blurted, moving over to the counter to watch me.

“Yes, that one. I have many brothers. Three of them came to the human world with me, ten years ago. My younger brothers are living here in Eastshore—Simbel works at your schools, and Memnon and his Mate run the garden shop. Go wash your hands, so you can help.”

As he followed my instruction, I carried on with the explanation. “My twin brother is Abydos, and he’s appointedhimself head of our little group. I don’t think he needed to, but he felt obligated. It is a heavy responsibility, and I think it has made him…” I frowned thoughtfully at the dough I was shaping. “Hard. Bitter.”

The boy’s only response was a little snort as he dried his hands, and I wondered if he got my point.

“I only mentioned all this to share that to me, at least, it’s normal to choose a new name when we make changes. So that’s why I asked you what you wanted me to call you. Benny? Benjamin? Ben?”

---