Chapter 1: A Short Ride Away
Aella's eyes darted back to the guard and away again. Window—rolling green hills, sheep pastures, orchards. Guard—eyes glued to her. Window.
He hadn't said anything, but the crooked half-smile told her he'd noticed her little glances. He was muscular, broad, dark-featured, handy with a sword. All her favourite things, usually. But he watched too close. His eyes were too bold.
Fiddling with a seam of her sleeve, she dragged the pad of her thumb across the stitching, keeping her eyes on the scenery.
A short ride away, her father had said.
It was what he hadn't said that echoed in the frightened recesses of her mind.
But you're never coming back.
She took a steadying breath and bit her lip, gaze flicking over to the guard for the eight-thousandth time. "Um, sorry," she breathed, "how much longer did you say it would be?"
His lips pulled into a dark smirk. "Eager to meet your betrothed, Princess?" His eyes raked her form. "Would you like a warm-up first?"
Aella winced, bringing her arms around herself and holding tightly. "No, thank you," she whispered to the window, "I'm fine."
Fine. What a ridiculous thing to claim, under the circumstances.
The guard said nothing more. The carriage rocked and swayed on down the road, creaking and jostling. Aella hated being confined. To rooms, to courtyards, to carriages. Grass underfoot and sky overhead—that was the only time she felt any peace. Being a princess didn't afford much freedom for that.
And now I'll have no freedom whatsoever.
She shivered and tried to ignore the roiling in her belly. Where she was headed, her royal life of confinement would seem like a dream. She set her mouth in a grim line, brows drawn down in determination. This was what princesses were for. Her brothers got to fight over the throne. And she alone had the responsibility of securing alliances… even if it was through marriage. Even if that marriage was to… a brute.
The carriage jolted to a halt, skidding on loose gravel. Aella was thrown from her seat, landing hard on her knees—right between the guard's legs.
He looked down at her, eyes wide. He made no move to help her up, or check what the commotion was. The splintering of wood made them both whip their heads to the carriage door as it was wrenched off its hinges. Slivers of wood showered the ground, landing at the feet of a monstrous figure.
A hand, green-skinned, the colour of bog water, gripped the carriage handle. The orc stumbled back a step, looking down at the dismembered door still held in its grip. The hourglass figure and large bust held back by leather corsetry marked this orc as female—and, therefore, one of the most fearsome monsters to roam the wilds of the North.
Her dark hair glistened in tight braids down her back and over her shoulder, woven with blood-red horse hair. An axe and a sword hung from her belt, clanking gently as she turned to look inside the carriage.
The orc met Aella's alarmed gaze, blinking rapidly and tilting her head. With one eyebrow cocked suggestively, she looked between Aella and the guard. It was only then that the princess remembered the compromised position she'd been thrust into.
Aella threw herself backwards and scrambled to her feet, forgetting too late how low the ceiling was. With a resounding thump, she knocked her head on the hard wood above her, and slumped back into her seat, clutching her ringing skull.
"Pffft." The she-orc barely smothered her laugh with a huge hand over her tusked mouth. "Ah, yes. The graceful human princess, come to save the orcs." The she-orc shook her head and dropped the carriage door on the ground, dusting splinters from her fingers. She lifted a hand and gestured for Aella to follow. "Come, highness. Time to meet the clan." Without waiting for Aella to acknowledge her request, the she-orc turned and strode towards the front of the carriage, making the horses whinny in distress.
Aella looked over to the guard, who sat motionless on the seat opposite her. At his side, he gripped a dagger, since his sword was too big for the small space. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again without a word. Aella straightened, careful not to strike her head a second time, and adjusted her dress and cloak to muster up a little dignity.
She flicked a wayward blonde curl over her shoulder and looked down at the guard. He gazed up at her, something clearly burning in his mind. She waited a beat, but when he remained silent, Aella clicked her tongue.
She went to take a step outside the carriage, but the guard grabbed at her skirts, threatening to pull her dress down. Aella gasped, clutching the fabric and tugging against his grip.
"Princess." He licked his lips. He glanced toward the open door. Gone was his earlier smirk. "Mine might be the last friendly face you see." He tugged again at her dress, eyes fixed to her bosom as it threatened to spill. "Seems a shame to send you off to them, without something… more pleasant to hold on to."
The guard didn't wait for an answer. He lurched to his feet, stooping in the cramped space, and leaned in close. "We can be quick." He moved to lift her skirts.
Aella raised a hand and brought it across his face with an almighty crack that echoed off the stony hills lining the mountain road. His fingers clutching her dress went slack and he plopped back onto the bench, palm against his reddening cheek.
She leaned towards him and he flinched. "I'd rather lie with a dog," she hissed, before stalking out of the carriage and into the open. Aella drew in a long slow breath, crisp Northern air laden with frost kissing her lips and turning her cheeks pink.
She started at the scene. A boulder lay in the roadway, blocking the horses. The beasts nickered, shifting and chomping at their bits. The driver sat stock-still, hands gripping the reins so tightly his fingers were bleached of colour. And there, leaning against the boulder and picking at her teeth with a wickedly sharp dagger, was the she-orc.
Her lips pulled into a toothy grin as the last echoes of the slap faded.
Aella put her hands on her hips. "What?" Her mother would have been horrified at her tone, but the she-orc only gave her a half-shrug.
"We'll make an orc bride of you yet, Princess."
