Page 136 of The Orc Chief's Baker
“It’s cold out. Take another cloak.”
Brovdir held the thick leather garment out and Trinia could feel herself start to sweat already.
“Two is more than enough, Brovdir. It’s notthatcold.”
His hand came up to brush at her cheek. “You still feel chilled from yesterday.”
“I am not.” She clasped his hand, but couldn’t bring herself to push him away. Not after everything from the night before.
It had taken until dark to get the wall braced properly. Nearly every able-bodied man in the village and every orc conjurer had worked tirelessly at the task. Cutting trees, hammering limbs together, digging holes to set the logs.
Brovdir had lost his voice almost completely, but he’d still managed to organize the orcs. It was like the warriors could read his mind and the conjurers took lead from them. Watching Brovdir so effortlessly give orders by way of pointed looks and hand gestures was...
“You did really well yesterday.” She reached up to stroke his forehead with her free hand, brushing away his shaggy hair. “You’re a good chief.”
He smiled in a way that made her heart flip over and touched his forehead to hers. “Because of you.”
“You were always a good leader, Brovdir.”
“And you helped me to see it.”
She was flooded with warmth and went up on her toes to kiss him. She could feel every bit of his devotion to her in the way he kissed her. It rooted her to the spot. Rooted her tohim.
“Must go,” he said against her lips, even as she teased him further. Gave into her, dueling with her tongue before groaning. “Trinia, the headman.”
With that reminder, she found the will to break off the kiss. “I suppose we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
Brovdir nodded and then led her out of his tree, into the crisp dawn. The sun had barely started to rise, but the world was iced over. Glittering frost lined every leaf and twig. The path crunched under her feet. It smelled fresh and crisp.
It was so beautiful it was almost painful. She’d only spent two nights here, and it already felt like home.
“Thank you again.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “For letting me live with you.”
He plucked a kiss to her forehead, and they continued up the path, hand in hand. She looked up at the canopy of trees, at the blue sky poking through the barren branches. The orange of fall was gone and replaced with the crisp smell of incoming winter. “This really is the end, isn’t it? My job as town baker is over.”
Today was likely the last day she would ever step foot in the bakery. Her chest felt tight and she couldn’t manage a full breath.
“Wish it was your choice,” Brovdir said quietly. “Your choice to stay with me.”
Trinia blinked up at him in shock. His expression was tense, telling her that while she’d been lost in her thoughts, he’d been lost in his too. “It is my choice. I could stay anywhere. I have many friends who would take me in. I’mchoosingyou, Brovdir.” She wasn’t certain of anything else, but staying with him she was certain of.
“What if the bakery was a choice?” Brovdir asked, holding her gaze. “Would you go back?”
Her stomach dropped. What good did it do to muse over things that could never be?
“Hello.”
Trinia nearly jumped out of her skin and whirled around to find Sythcol with an amused smile on his face. One that didn’t quite meet his tired eyes.
He looked far better than he had the day before though. Actually, he looked better than he had indays. His hair had been brushed out. The bags under his eyes were not so prominent.
But the blackness of his hands was darker than it had ever been. There was an odd, spiral pattern etched into them.
“Sorry.” He tugged down the sleeves of his brown cloak. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Trinia waved him off and then gave Brovdir’s hand a squeeze.
“How are you feeling? Any better?”
