Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 109

Zaroka

After a few hours of rest, my energy had been restored; orcs were known for their quick recovery. My gaze swept across the tent to the other corner, separated by a curtain, where the soft murmurs of Thalia tending to Draven could be heard.

Beside me, Vespera maintained his characteristic composed silence, though I noticed his sharp eyes tracking every movement outside our makeshift quarters.

Following his gaze, I saw a group of young soldiers practicing swordsmanship under the watchful eye of a white-haired sergeant. Their movements were crisp and disciplined. Although they lacked the raw strength of orc warriors and the supernatural grace of werewolves, their precision was admirable.

"They're braver than I expected," I admitted, running my whetstone along the curved blade edge. "When Father described human military tactics, he made them sound like frightened rabbits with pointy sticks."

Vespera's lips curved in what might have been amusement. "Your father's encounters with humans were likely quite different from what we're witnessing. These are elite soldiers, not village militia."

Before I could respond, nervous coughing drew our attention to the tent opening. A young woman in healer's robes stood there, holding a wooden tray laden with food and medical supplies. She couldn't have been more than twenty, with mousy brown hair and wide hazel eyes that kept darting between us with poorly concealed fascination.

"I... um... the High Priest sent me to..." she stammered, clearly struggling with standing so close to the legendary beasts her people had feared for generations.

"Come in," Vespera said gently, his voice taking on that soothing tone I'd noticed he used with frightened creatures. "We don't bite. Well, not unless invited."

"And when we're hungry," I added mischievously, baring my fangs to tease the timid human girl.

The girl's eyes went wide with terror. "I was joking," I said quickly, setting aside my weapons. "Bad orc humor. We appreciate the provisions."

She stepped cautiously into the tent and set the tray within easy reach. Her eyes kept flicking between us, absorbing details like a scholar studying particularly interesting specimens.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, her face flushing pink. "I know it's rude, but I've never seen... I mean, the stories we're told about your people..."

"Are mostly nonsense, I'd imagine," Vespera replied kindly. "What's your name, child?"

"Nyssa," she answered, emboldened by his gentle manner. "The High Priest says you were injured fighting vampires."

Vespera nodded, rolling up his sleeve to reveal claw marks from our encounter. They were healing well thanks to his werewolf constitution, but the wounds remained visible. "Vampires are real, Nyssa. And they're far more dangerous than werewolves or orcs have ever been to your people."

Nyssa leaned forward, her fear giving way to professional curiosity. "May I?" She gestured toward his arm.

With Vespera's permission, she examined his wounds with practiced efficiency. Her touch was gentle but confident, and despite my general skepticism about human capabilities, I found myself impressed.

"The vampire claws left traces of necrotic magic," she observed, her brow furrowing in concentration. "But your natural healing is already neutralizing it. Remarkable."

"We're not the mindless beasts your stories claim," Vespera said quietly. "Most of us simply want to live in peace, protect our families, and honor our ancestors. Not so different from humans, really."

Nyssa nodded slowly. "You're not like the monsters in the tales." Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink as she looked at Vespera. "You're... you're actually quite handsome."

Something primal and possessive roared to life in my chest. Before I could think, I was on my feet, placing myself bodily between Nyssa and Vespera. My hand dropped instinctively to my axe handle, and I felt my lips pull back from my teeth in what could only be described as a territorial snarl.

"Time for you to leave," I growled, my voice low and threatening. The poor girl scrambled backward, mumbling apologies and practically fleeing from the tent.

I maintained my aggressive posture until her footsteps faded, only then turning to face Vespera. He was staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read—surprise, certainly, but also something that might have been amusement.

"That was... protective of you," he said carefully.

Heat rose in my cheeks. "She was making eyes at you," I replied, not entirely sure why I felt the need to justify my reaction. "Humans are weak. If she'd gotten ideas about pursuing you, someone could have been hurt."

"Zaroka." His voice was gentle but firm. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, I met his gaze. Those impossibly green eyes seemed to see through all my carefully constructed defenses.

"Is that really why you reacted that way?"

I wanted to deny it, to laugh off his suggestion and pretend my aggressive response had been nothing more than protective instinct. But orcs weren't raised to be liars, and something in his expression told me that honesty—even painful honesty—was what this moment required.

My throat felt dry. Among my people, a female would typically claim her chosen mate through combat and territorial displays. The realization hit me like a war hammer to the chest.

"Maybe," I said finally, my voice rougher than usual. "Would that... would that bother you?"

Something warm flickered in his eyes—not rejection, not disgust, but something infinitely more complex. "No, Zaroka. It wouldn't bother me at all."

The admission hung between us like a bridge neither of us was quite ready to cross. I found myself standing closer to him now, close enough to catch his scent—woodsy and clean, like forest streams and morning mist.

"I... that is, we..." I stumbled over words in a way that would have made my war-band laugh themselves senseless. Where had all my eloquence gone? I was a princess of the orc clans, trained in diplomacy as well as warfare, yet here I stood stammering like a green recruit.

Vespera's expression softened further. "The situation is complicated, isn't it? With the war, the alliances..."

"The war won't last forever," I said, finding my voice again. "And when it's over, there will still be alliances to maintain. Connections between our peoples." I paused, then added more quietly, "Personal connections."

He nodded slowly. "Yes. There will be."

After a moment of tranquility, I stood up and tightened the strap of my battle axe. "Let's go," I said firmly, "We have a war to stop."

A hint of a smile flashed in Vespera's eyes as he rose as well.

The sounds of the camp continued around us. Whatever was growing between us remained unspoken but acknowledged, a fragile understanding that would have to wait for a safer time to be fully explored.