Page 43 of The Orc's Captive Bride
What am I in this world? Besides Lasseran’s pawn?
The question had no good answers.
He opened the library doors and she stepped into the beautiful, terrible repository of stolen knowledge. The morning light streaming through high windows transformed the space. Whathad been shadowy and mysterious last night was now revealed in stunning detail.
Books. Scrolls. Manuscripts. Codices. More knowledge than she could ever study in one lifetime. It stole her breath.
“It’s incredible,” she breathed, unable to help herself.
He made a noncommittal sound, but she ignored him, heading towards the table where the ancient text waited. Her text now. Her impossible puzzle.
She reached for it?—
“Dr. Monroe.”
The voice made her spin around. A figure cloaked in a dark robe that obscured every detail stood in the doorway.
“I am Master Vorlag,” he said, his voice dry and cultured. “High King Lasseran has assigned me as your… advisor. For the duration of your work.”
Her stomach sank.
Advisor. Right. More like a spy. Lasseran’s eyes and ears to ensure she stayed focused and compliant.
“How generous of His Majesty,” she said, keeping her tone carefully neutral.
“Quite.”
He walked into the library with the confidence of someone who’d spent considerable time here. When he joined her, she could make out more of his face beneath the obscuring hood. Intelligent eyes behind lined features studied her.
“I understand you’re a linguistic specialist,” Vorlag continued. “From… elsewhere.”
The pause was deliberate. He knew—or suspected.
“I specialize in dead languages,” she said. “Ancient texts and translation.”
“Fascinating.” He regarded the manuscript. “This is said to concern the Beast Curse—or so the king believes.”
“You sound unconvinced.”
“I’m old, Dr. Monroe. Skepticism is survival.”
Despite herself, she almost smiled. His tone reminded her of her favorite professors—the ones who taught her to question everything.
“May I ask your role? Besides advisor.”
“I’m a Veilborn priest. We believe in balance. Including the balance between worlds—the places where reality bleeds thin.” His eyes met hers. “We study the spaces between what is and what might be.”
A shiver ran through her. “You study portals.”
“Amongst other things.”
“Did you…” She swallowed hard. “Did you help bring me here?”
“No,” he said firmly. “And neither did Lasseran.”
That brought her head up. “He didn’t?”
“No. Although he may have been… encouraged to believe he did.”
