Page 61 of First Comes Orc, Second Comes Baby
It stood to reason that if the strategy was to differentiate the poisoned cupcake from its to non-poison counterparts, that that same strategy would apply to the trio of chocolate cupcakes and the trio of vanilla cupcakes.
Charlotte turned her attention to the chocolate and lifted one. “Death by chocolate—but not today.”
They all smelled as they should, but she didn’t expect each test within the test to be the same.
She set it down, then lined the other two next to it and stared down. Crouched again, turning her head from side to side to not miss a single detail. And as she did so, it occurred to her that the swirl of the fluffy frosting on two of the cupcakes went in the left direction—and the swirl on one chocolate cupcake went right.
The difference was subtle, especially since the cupcakes were monochromatic and otherwise unadorned. She stared for a few more moments just to be sure, but yes, the swirls on one definitely went in another direction. She couldn't imagine that this was an oversight, not in a test of life and death, of courage.
She set aside the right swirl cupcake, and savagely ate the remaining two, wiping frosting from her mouth with her sleeve.
The Orcesses screamed, their wild shrieks blasting primal fury into the afternoon sky.
Charlotte took another sip of lavender lemonade. Deliberately—was there any other way—she set the glass down. It sat lonely and alone, only a quarter full, a forsaken herald on a field of battle.
Never give up. Never give in.
She turned her attention to the vanilla trio.
Deceptively innocent, insidiously elegant.
After twenty minutes of examination, could findnothingthat set any of the cupcakes apart from the others. Sugar laced bile rose in her throat.
“It’s too late to turn back now,” she said to herself. “I accepted the call. The only path is forward.”
Regine came to Charlotte’s side. “There is always a choice.Thischoice must be made without coercion. If you wish to turn back now, none of us will stop you. In this, my son was right.”
“But he'll start a war.”
Regine said nothing.
Charlotte rested her hand on her belly. “For you,” she whispered. And knowing that her chance of death was one in three—that damn boy math—she chose a cupcake at random. Closed her eyes, raised it to her lips and—
The cupcake was knocked from her hand. Charlotte’s eyelids flew open. . .they didn’t actually fly, but they did open. “What!?”
“The smallest bite would have killed you,” Regine said, sounding unbothered.
“I. . .wasn’t that the point?”
“It is also,” Eldest Orcess said, “a test of commitment, and trust. You could have turned back; you did not. Regine could have chosen to let you eat the cupcake; she did not.”
Blood rushed to Charlotte’s head. “Hey, hey,” she heard Milgrida exclaim. “No fainting! I wouldn’t have let you eat it either.”
It took moments for the dizziness to clear. It was one thing tothinkshe might die, it was another to have it confirmed that yes, she woulda been a goner, her and baby. Except Regine was in a good mood or something. Or didn’t want to piss off her son.
“I think. . .” Charlotte said faintly, “I think I need a steak.”
When she threw up on Regine’s shoes, her mother-in-law didn’t do anything but snarl.
* * *
“Congratulations, Regine,” an Orcess said, clasping Charlotte’s mother-in-law on the shoulder. “She’s not pathetic. You did good.”
Charlotte didn’t think Regine had anything to do with it, but she also knew better than to open her mouth, or to move at all. She continued to lie on her back, staring up at the sky. Someone would notice she wasn’t moving soon, and hopefully pick her up and carry her into the house. Maybe feed her meat. Milgrida had mentioned a fire pit and barbecue, and officially inducting her into the clan so she could marry Brahnt, and Charlotte was down for it.
As long as she didn’t have to sit up.
A shadow blocked out the sun. Charlotte opened her eyes. “We’re going to have to discuss the marriage proposal,” Milgrida said.
