Page 197 of The Orc's Captive Bride
But someone had laid down white petals, creating a path to the main entrance. And the servants who stood waiting—human and orc alike—bowed deeply as they passed.
Not the fearful, cowering bows Thea had seen people give Lasseran in her brief time at court.
These were respectful. Almost… hopeful.
They’re looking to me for something, she realized with a jolt. They want me to be better than what came before.
The weight of that expectation settled over her shoulders like a physical thing.
Khorrek carried her through corridors she didn’t recognize, climbing stairs that seemed to go on forever. The orcs who’d accompanied them fell away one by one until only Khorrek remained, his breathing barely labored despite the climb and her added weight.
Where is he taking me?
Not to the rooms she’d occupied before—they’d passed that level already. Higher. Always higher.
Finally, they reached a door of simple dark wood, unadorned and unguarded. Khorrek shouldered it open and stepped through, and she blinked in surprise.
The room beyond was nothing like the rest of the Obsidian Keep. White walls warmed by colorful tapestries depicting forests and mountains and ocean waves. Large windows—without bars—opening onto a balcony with an unobstructed view of the moonlit sea. Elegant but comfortable furniture arranged around a fireplace that radiated gentle warmth.
It was beautiful. Peaceful. Nothing like the harsh grandeur of Lasseran’s domain.
“What is this place?” she asked as Khorrek finally set her on her feet.
“Queen Marise’s chambers,” he said quietly. “Lasseran’s grandmother. Vorlag said she was the last ruler who actually cared about her people.”
She moved slowly through the space, her exhaustion temporarily forgotten. Her fingers trailed over the back of a chair, across the smooth wood of a writing desk positioned perfectly to catch the morning light.
Someone had loved this room and chosen each piece with care.
She walked to one of the windows, looking out at the vast expanse of dark water beyond the city walls. Moonlight danced on the waves, and somewhere in the distance, she could see the faint glow of what might be fishing boats.
People. Lives. A whole city full of them, and now they were all…
My responsibility.
The reality of it crashed over her all at once. The goddess’s presence had cushioned her, kept the full weight of the situation at bay. But Freya was gone now, and Thea was left alone with the consequences of what had happened.
She’d helped kill a king.
She’d been declared queen in his place.
She had no idea what she was doing.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
The words hung in the air, stark and honest.
“Why not?” Khorrek asked quietly.
She turned to face him, gesturing helplessly at the room, at herself, at everything.
“Look at me! I’m a linguist, Khorrek. I study dead languages and ancient burial customs. I’ve never run anything more complex than a university seminar. How am I supposed to rule a kingdom?”
“The same way you decoded the Beast Curse,” he said, moving closer. “The same way you survived being pulled into an unfamiliar world. The same way you walked into the Stone Circle knowing what it might cost you.”
“That’s different?—”
“How?”
