Page 103 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s the best I can offer.”
She turned in his arms, and smiled up at him. “Then it’s enough.”
He kissed her gently, trying to convey all the things he didn’t have words for. When they broke apart, she smiled. Shaky but genuine. “I trust you.”
The words were a knife and a balm all at once.
Don’t. I might get you killed.
But he only nodded. “Then let’s get you packed.”
She selected texts with the precision of a scholar who knew exactly what she needed. No wasted motion. No second-guessing. She’d done this before—packed for research trips.
The thought was oddly comforting. She wasn’t completely unprepared for this.
“What about clothes?” he asked and she glanced at the wardrobe. “I don’t need much. A few changes. Something practical.”
“Take the warmest things you have. Norhaven is colder than Kel’Vara.”
“Right. Of course.”
She pulled out a heavy wool cloak, sturdy boots, thick stockings, and a few practical tunics and trousers. When she’d changed into traveling clothes, she looked more like the woman he’d found at the stone circle. All wild hair and determined eyes.
This is who you really are. Not the polished scholar forced to play court politics.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do you need anything?”
“I have what I need.”
“Weapons?”
“Always.”
She glanced at the sword strapped to his back. The knives at his belt. “Is that going to be enough?”
“It’ll have to be. I can’t exactly walk into the armory and requisition additional supplies without raising suspicion.”
“Right. That would be bad.”
“Catastrophically bad.”
She took a shaky breath. “This is really happening. We’re really doing this.”
“We are.”
“When do we leave?”
He glanced at the window. The sky was still dark.
“Within the hour. While most of the palace is still asleep.”
“What about guards? Patrols?”
“I know their schedules.”
“You sound very confident about that.”
