Page 35 of The Orc's Captive Bride
He didn’t respond, but something in his eyes acknowledged the truth of her words.
“Come,” he said finally, moving to unlock the door. “The library is this way.”
CHAPTER TEN
Leading Thea through the palace corridors felt wrong. She didn’t belong in this place of cold stone and colder politics. She belonged somewhere warm and safe where she was free.
But that choice wasn’t Khorrek’s to make.
He watched her try to memorize the route. She was always thinking, always planning. Good. She’d need every advantage she could get.
The library doors loomed ahead—massive oak panels carved with the history of the Five Kingdoms—Lasseran’s version of it, anyway. The official narrative where orcs were savage beasts tamed by human wisdom and the High King’s family had ruled with benevolent strength for generations.
Lies.Lies that had begun two hundred years ago. He pushed the thought aside and opened the doors.
She gasped, coming to a halt beside him as she stared at the vast collection of books and scrolls that filled the multi-storied space.
“Sorry. I just…” She stepped inside, and her expression filled with wonder. “This is incredible.”
He followed her gaze, trying to see the library through her eyes. He’d been here countless times, retrieving texts for Lasseran or occasionally standing guard while the High King researched his various schemes. Multiple stories of shelves stretched towards a ceiling lost in shadows, with smaller Reading alcoves tucked between the shelves. Tables covered with open books and scrolls filled the center of the room while carefully shielded oil lamps provided a warm, flickering light.
“The High King collects books from across the Five Kingdoms,” he said. “Conquered libraries. Purchased collections. Some acquired through less… conventional means.”
Stolen, most of them, including orcish texts that were supposed to have been burned. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“Is that it?” she asked, pointing to the small book on the central table.
“Yes.”
She approached it slowly and reverently, her fingers hovering over the dark leather binding like she was afraid it might crumble at her touch.
“May I?”
The question surprised him. Most people just took what they wanted, but she was asking permission.
He nodded, and she carefully opened the book and began turning the pages. She scanned the incomprehensible symbols with fierce concentration, and then she smiled, a bright genuine smile.
“What is it?” he asked roughly.
“It’s magnificent,” she breathed. “Look at this.” She pointed out a symbol that reappeared on several pages. “This appears at the start of several sections. It could be a sacred symbol, or even just a header, but it creates a pattern.” She turned more pages, completely absorbed. “And here—see how these characters cluster together? That suggests word boundaries, which means it’s not a continuous script. It has grammar and structure.”
He stared at her as if she started speaking a new language.
“You can read this?”
“What? No. God, no. Not yet.” She pushed her glasses up as she leaned closer to the pages. “But I can start to see it. The patterns. The logic.” She looked up at him, her eyes were shining. “This is going to be one of the most challenging projects of my career.”
“The High King expects results quickly.”
“The High King needs to manage his expectations,” she muttered, then immediately paled. “Sorry. I know. Death threats. Consequences. I’m just…”
“Excited,” he finished.
She nodded, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. “I know it’s insane. Trust me, I know.” She turned back to the book. “But this is what I’ve done my whole life—deciphering languages and solving puzzles. Finding meaning in chaos.” Her fingers hovered over a line of text. “Someone wrote this. They had knowledge they wanted to preserve, and I get to be the bridge between their world and this one.”
The passion in her voice made something ache in his chest. When was the last time he’d felt that way about anything? When had belief turned to duty and then to chains?
He couldn’t remember.
