Page 28 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“Yes.”
“Cooperative?”
He hesitated. Cooperative wasn’t quite the word for Thea. Curious, perhaps. Stubborn and impossibly brave for someone who should have been terrified.
“She asked questions,” he said instead. “But caused no trouble.”
“Questions.” Now Lasseran did turn, and his pale blue eyes fixed on Khorrek with the cold intensity of a predator. “What sort of questions?”
“Where she was. Why she was brought here. What you want with her.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That I didn’t know. Which is true.”
A slight smile curved Lasseran’s mouth, but it held no warmth. “How refreshingly honest of you.”
He remained silent. Years of training had taught him when to speak and when to simply wait. Lasseran enjoyed his games, but it was safer not to play.
The High King moved away from the window, his footsteps silent on the polished floor, and circled Khorrek slowly, like a buyer examining a horse.
“You’ve served me well,” Lasseran said.
“I live to serve you.”
Do I? There was a time when it had been true, but now there were… doubts.
“Do you?” The question was soft and dangerous. “I wonder sometimes, Khorrek, what thoughts move through that savage brain of yours. Whether loyalty truly binds you, or merely fear.”
His Beast stirred at the insult, but he crushed it down.
“I owe you everything.” That lesson had been beaten into him as well.
“Yes.” Lasseran stopped in front of him. “You do.”
The silence stretched between them, but he kept his expression neutral and his body in the correct position. Finally, the High King smiled, and this time it almost reached his eyes. Almost.
“I am pleased with your work. The woman should be exactly what I need, and you delivered her in a timely manner with minimal complications.” Lasseran turned away, moving to a side table where a crystal decanter sat. “Wine?”
“No, thank you, High King.”
“Ah yes. The savage palate prefers stronger spirits, doesn’t it?” Lasseran poured himself a glass. “No matter. Tell me, did she give you any indication of her skills? Her… aptitudes?”
He thought of her endless questions and her quick grasp of his language.
“She’s intelligent,” he said carefully. “She learned our language faster than should be possible, and she observes everything.”
“Excellent.” Lasseran sipped his wine. “She’ll need that intellect for the task ahead.”
The words hung in the air. He knew he shouldn’t ask, that he shouldn’t care what happened to one human woman, but the question forced itself out anyway.
“What task do you have in mind?”
Lasseran’s eyebrows rose fractionally. “Curious, are we?”
“I simply wish to know if my efforts served their purpose.”
It was a diplomatic answer, exactly the kind of response a loyal warrior should give, but Lasseran studied him over the rim of his wine glass. Those pale eyes stripped away pretense like flesh from bone.
