Page 54 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“You serve at the High King’s pleasure. As do I.” Khorrek’s voice dropped to a growl that made the guard step back involuntarily. “And the High King ordered me to guard her. So I will be there.”
The guard swallowed, then nodded.
Smart man.
They walked through the corridors she was beginning to recognize, though she still couldn’t have navigated them alone. The Obsidian Keep was designed to confuse—to keep outsiders disoriented and dependent. It was another form of control.
She focused on her breathing, and on keeping her steps measured and calm.
Don’t show fear.
Predators could smell fear, and Lasseran was the apex predator in this world.
The throne room doors opened with theatrical slowness. Inside, the High King sat on his throne—an ostentatious thing of carved wood and precious metals that somehow looked both magnificent and grotesque.
Like the man himself.
Lasseran didn’t stand. He didn’t even smile his usual silk-and-poison smile. Just watched her approach with those pale eyes that held no warmth. No humanity.
She stopped at what felt like an appropriate distance. Close enough to hear him speak. Far enough to—what? Run?
There was nowhere to run.
“Dr. Monroe,” he said smoothly. “How delightful to see you again.”
Poison dripped from every word.
“Your Majesty.” She managed a credible curtsy, despite having never performed one in her life. “Thank you for granting me an audience.”
“Granting.” Lasseran’s smile was a knife’s edge. “How polite. As if you had a choice.”
“I am at your service, of course.”
“Are you?” He leaned forward slightly. “Because I find myself wondering, Dr. Monroe, whether you are truly committed to the task I set you.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs. “I assure you?—”
“It has been over a week since I gave you access to the finest library in the Five Kingdoms. A week of comfort. Of leisure.Of my considerable hospitality.” His tone never changed. Still smooth. Still pleasant. “And yet I have received no reports of progress. No updates on the translation. No indication that you are any closer to unlocking the secrets of the Beast Curse.”
“These things take time, Your Majesty. The text is fragmentary and the language archaic. I’m having to cross-reference multiple sources just to?—”
“Excuses.”
The word cracked through the room like a whip, and she flinched despite herself.
Lasseran rose from his throne with liquid grace, and descended the steps with the controlled power of a predator.
“I did not bring you across worlds to hear excuses, Dr. Monroe. I brought you because you were supposed to possess unique capabilities. Insights no other scholar could provide.” He circled her slowly, and she fought the urge to turn with him. “Tell me—was I mistaken in my assessment?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“Then perhaps you are deliberately delaying the translation? Hoping for some miraculous rescue? Some intervention from the gods themselves?”
“I’m working as quickly as I can?—”
“Not. Quickly. Enough.” Each word was punctuated with a step closer. “I am not a patient man, Dr. Monroe. And I find my tolerance for incompetence has its limits.”
She could see Khorrek’s rigid body behind Lasseran, his eyes blazing with fury.
