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Ten Lives Nine Deaths
3.014 Sentiment

3.014 Sentiment

---LORD KLAR POV

“Why do you leave my warm bed, Lord?”

I mustn’t look back. I don’t look back, focusing instead on the dying embers of the fireplace. The glow weakly competes with the predawn light. “Why have you chosen not to feign sleep like usual?”

There is a rustle of bed coverings. I hear the Queen hitch her chest. Quickly, her feet slap one after the other on the cold marble floor.

“Somehow, tonight is different. You slink off instead of simply leaving.” Her warm breath caresses my neck. Her tusk nudges my ear. A shiver of affection skips down my spine.

I swivel to face her. Head-to-toe goosebumps adorn her naked, flawless green skin. Any previous modesty because of queenly decorum is a vague memory. Months of my vigorous and demanding lovemaking, the reason.

Without hesitation, my palm smooths over her growing belly. One of the two growing lives within kick. She believes she tempts me. Blackmails me.

“Why did your people refuse the goblin mercenary’s requests for help?”

She slaps my hand away and steps back. “We don’t speak of them. They aren’t in our history records, so how?”

I grin in petty triumph. “A prized secret, to be certain. It took weeks to nurture sufficient friendship and trust.” I offer my hand. “Some of your people believe it was a mistake.”

She grabs my hand with both of hers. “Is this why you are leaving? I wasn’t even born then …” A brief spark of hope grows in her moistening eyes. “We can talk …”

“They were Oath Keepers?”

A sullen nod. “My grandmother told me the story when I was a child. We couldn’t trust them. Spawn of Zoria, the ally of Rexa. Plus, the southern city they asked for help from was failing. The nearby desert had advanced over the years.” She sniffs. “They were in a terrible state. The city kept what little food they had.”

“Why couldn’t this city or the other help?”

“Pride.”

I shake my head and fling her hands away. My inner hob protests as I resist the urge to shake the mother of my children. “You will need to explain,” I say.

“Our founder decreed an alternative to fighting over our differences. As we prospered, a group of sufficient numbers could leave to establish another settlement. They needed to number more than the original founders, and then they could claim sufficient food and tools from the founding city to begin again. This has happened twice. Each new city determined to establish itself and not ask for help.”

“By emulating the original founders, the leaders of the new city could claim their own legitimacy and right to rule in the way they saw fit,” I finish.

“Yes. The coast is long, and the last city ensured their independence by travelling far, almost exhausting their food. If the stories are true, they saved enough grain for one planting. They fished and hunted until they could harvest the crop. It was a bumper crop. They felt vindicated. But each successive crop yielded less, and then the desert marched towards the city. Then the Oath Keeper mercenaries begged at their gates …”

I know the city became a ruin because I had found and gained the confidence of some old families who slunk back to the Queen’s City before the end. Over the years, more of their family joined them until none did.

I needed to return to my holdings and, importantly, my wives. Going south would mean crossing a desert of uncertain width. One that was sufficiently demanding to reduce a mercenary group to near starvation, except broader now. A desert I didn’t notice from the shuttle to confirm its size, but then I wasn’t looking for one, I suppose.

The other option was to climb the sheer mountain cliff. Climbing that cliff would only be possible with modern climbing equipment and high risk even then. It took little research to find out that the original escape journey through the mountains involved several cave-ins to keep the Klugites from following. There were also slides of incredible length. Lava tubes, probably. Easy to slide down, but probably impossible to climb.

My only quick escape from this side of the mountains was to return using the shuttle. Interestingly, this isolation would be an excellent location for anyone disagreeable. My inner Hob rejoices as I approve of his proposal.

“I have released you.”

“You can’t. I don’t want to be. The child hasn’t been born.” Her face blushes bright green. “Your lovemaking is, erm, enjoyable.”

More likely, my seed has given her a vitality she has never known. A youthfulness. For example, her entire court often commented on the glow and her skin’s health. My bound warrior wife had beaten all the females who challenged her and intimidated the males. Although to be fair, the males weren’t the city’s fighters; they were the harem keepers.

My third and fourth hobgoblin concubines were more circumspect. Occasionally taking hooded and robed trips to the markets. They prepared their own food and otherwise kept to their quarters in the Queen’s manor. The exception was different day visits by each of them every four days so I could service them until I got them with a child. These visits continued after pregnancy once they realised the benefit of my seed.

“It will please your crone when she shows you the release document. I asked her to prepare it, and I have signed it. There was only a single obligation on her.” I grin. “Keep it a secret until I leave.”

The Queen cackles, releasing the tension in the room. Nevertheless, I quickly reach forward and place my hand over her mouth. Her eyes radiate calm, and she doesn’t back away. My action was to prevent her bodyguards from running in to check. Instead, she confirms her absolute trust in me. She would probably run away with me. She is their Queen. I can’t be the reason she abandons her duty. Instead, I have left her with double joy to balance her single sorrow.

As I remove my hand, she says, “Well, that is a miracle.” Her wide, sad smile hits me. “She must not have spoken to anyone to ensure that!”

She squeezes me. “Will you ever return to me?”

“I must return to where I came from. So unlikely, but I didn’t intend to visit your city this time either, so who knows?”

I leave the Queen of the City prone on the floor, quietly sobbing to herself.

---

As I march past fallow fields, a rising dawn silhouettes the city behind me. The late harvest was done. The days grew colder and shorter. I intended to retrace my steps. Instead, I travel along the shore to avoid a couple of goblin villages. They would want me to linger, and I have already been away from the valley for too long.

---

After three nights and two days, I took pity on her. Given her brainless determination, the reason she followed me is probably worth finding out.

She staggers into my camp and doesn’t hesitate to warm herself by my fire. I throw her a couple of fire-cooked rabbits. She devours the first bones and all. Between gulps of food, she empties a waterskin.

“Why?”

She shifts her sword. “I would protect you, Lord. Why do you think I have trained every day and evening, bested the best in the city since you won me?”

Her belly distorts her armour, but some lacings permit the addition of pieces. Does she intend to let out her armour as her belly expands?

“You will be a mother, outgrow your armour?”

“Many a female has given birth in the morning, placed their babe in a pouch on their back and fought in the afternoon. Plus, I have asked.” Her eyelids flutter.

“Asked what?”

“Pregnancy is supposed to be tiring. I am full of energy. When I call on my body for more speed, it answers. More strength, it answers again. At worst, I am thirsty afterwards. I told my body to keep going for the days I have been following you.”

“But you are near exhausted now.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it and nods.

“You wouldn’t return to the city if I told you to, would you?”

She continues to bite into the second rabbit.

I sigh. “You would rather die trying to follow me, I suppose? What am I left with?”

The Queen would have been no different, except her duty bound her as good as any unbreakable chain.

---

After a night of spooning, she thought she had won me over. Unfortunately for her, I didn’t want to delay any more than needed.

“I am not a sack to be carried, Lord.”

“You will get to use your own two feet when rested. Have you been talking to your body like I instructed you?”

“Yes, Lord. I obey.” She is sulking, of course. She thought of herself as my protector and was now reduced to a burden. It was a compromise. My journey would take slightly longer, but I didn’t have to wait for her to recover. Also, she would die before she gave up, and this way, I wouldn’t be responsible for another death.

My inner Hob growls out his disagreement.

---LINMERE, SHIFTER OF THE GPA SCOUT SHIP POV

From afar, bouncing over the waves in our makeshift boat, the settlement promised so much. Sharing glances with Lord Klar’s two wives, we realise the settlement is a ruin. The sand of the beach joins the sand of the desert. We skipped docking at the fragile-looking wharf and skied to shore on a low cresting wave.

We drag our raft out of the surf until it rests on dry sand.

“Water is our priority. An old well, perhaps.”

Luda eyes me. “Unlikely. Sand and more sand await us. A settlement not lived in for years, maybe generations.”

Koria kicks a rock, which rolls down the beach and into the water. “I say we pile back into our boat, pick a direction and paddle.”

I grunt when I mean to swear. “We need water. Our fruit is nearly gone, so food will be next.”

The two of them giggle. “Our bottoms will welcome the change.”

They exaggerate, of course. They didn’t eat as much as I did, yet they seemed healthy enough. I thought that explained their lack of need to hang their bottoms over the side of the boat as often as I did, but now I am unsure. After believing the fruit was more important, I only felt satisfied after drinking the milk-water from the coconuts. Does that explain my need for water now? Why do I suspect they know a secret? Tinuna told me to consume his seed, his blood. Become one of his bound wives to discover his true benefit to Shifters. Yet my body isn’t a Shifter body anymore; no, I am a hobgoblin. She sounded so convincing …

“We splitting up? We can cover more ground that way,” I suggest.

“No.” They reply as one and then giggle again.

Koria continues, “They wouldn’t hide a well. We need to hope they made the well from stone. Wood doesn’t seem to survive here, or maybe they had none in the first place.”

“What about the boat? The remaining food?” I ask.

“It will be a test. This place looks deserted. If someone takes our food, that will confirm it isn’t,” says Luda.

I cast a side-eye at her. “And what, we track them down and hope they haven’t eaten any?”

She shrugs while casting me a mischievous grin as we struggle up the beach over the dry sand. Shortly after, she dashes forward and leaps on Koria’s back. Scrambling up and with Koria’s hands around her ankles, Luda the goblin perches high on the tall hobgoblin’s generous shoulders.

“Little left and then straight ahead,” she announces, and Koria adjusts to suit.

---

We stroll down what would have been the main street.

“Wait,” I whisper.

Koria swivels about, and with Luda on her shoulders, two heads of questioning eyes look down on me.

The ruins of a once proud town are before us; on either side of the street, squat shells of sand-filled roofless buildings.

“Creatures are waiting ahead.” I stammer. Even I can’t believe what I somehow sense.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Smell? Seen something move?” questions Luda.

Ugh. I knew they would want an explanation. “I just know.”

They giggle, and then their laughter overtakes both, causing Luda to fall from Koria’s shoulders, yet she lands on her feet.

“You cretins!” I growl. “While you slept on the boat, I reached out with… my magic. How do you think we found schools of fish to eat or didn’t bump into anything too large in the water?”

Both their faces flush green as they stomp towards me. I instinctively backpedal.

Luda hisses while Koria snarls back, “While meditating …” She draws the word out. “We put our Lord Klar’s blood to good use. Capturing moisture from the air to save our thirst. Enhancing our bodies to diminish our need for food or water. Using the fresh water from rain to restore our health. You know why?”

My eyes fall on Koria’s tusks for some unknown reason. No, I know, I admit to myself. They are thick, with a long curve. Typical, perhaps desirable. I touch mine. Stunted fragile twigs. They barely break free of my lips. My skin is the lightest shade of green. Koria’s and Luda’s skin, in a word, vibrant, probably desirable.

“Because we believed we needed to look after ourselves to leave as much as possible for you.”

“But the fish?” I stammer.

“How were we to know early on that you could do that?” sneers Luda. “You weren’t exactly happy with Lord Klar and his way of saving your miserable life. You have shared little since.”

“Neither have you two!” I stab a finger at them.

“Take that finger back before I bite it off,” says Koria, who then snaps her mouth at me.

My finger escapes her attempt. “What do you mean by meditate?”

They exchange a glance and nod. “His blood.” They share a salacious smile. “His seed. Special.”

“Special, how?” I ask. Too keenly, it seems, as they rock back on their heels and flash me a grin of triumph.

“You first,” says Luda.

I run my fingers through my hair and double up for a moment. How do I explain what I hardly know?

“The nanorobots within me harvest energy, a magic perhaps, present in this world’s air, plants, soil, and animals. I can gather, store and, when ready, manipulate so I can project my will. The nanorobots I gained in the spaceship are somehow the key.” I stare at them. They are on the verge of laughing again. “Your turn,” I bark.

Luda grabs Koria’s shoulder and plunges her face into Koria’s arm to stifle her laughter. Koria coughs. “You need Lord Klar’s seed.” Her eyes inspect me. “You are an ugly hobgoblin, though, and if I convince him, you are worth it …” She taps her chin. “You will owe me a big favour. Agreed?”

Bitch! I shake off my self-pity and straighten. Try as I might, I can’t stare her down. She is half a head higher, even though I am tall and slim. How can she be taller with such muscular bulk? I hear Luda snicker. Tinuna said I must. These two believe he won’t give me his seed because they think I am inferior. When I compare myself to Koria, our differences are apparent. I have to spit the word out. “Agreed.”

“What about these hidden ones?” chirps Luda.

---

With Koria as a distraction, Luda snuck up on each of the ambushers, who, fortunately, were far enough apart they couldn’t support each other. Either a poor ambush plan or too few. We then threatened our captives. Strange, my companions didn’t kill anyone who offered to surrender. After fruitless questioning, we continued.

The central well was dry, as were several others.

We returned to our boat with our prisoners in a line between us. When there wasn’t a boat to be found, Luda licked her lips and smiled.

With Luda leading, we followed telltale footfalls in the sand. Further along, some tracking was guesswork, but Luda rubbed her hands together when we turned inland. Our line of captives became unruly, and Koria needed to growl at them. I knew then we were close.

The goblin village proved challenging to find with my eyes, but it didn’t escape my magic. Koria patted my back, and Luda threw me a begrudging nod. It was a start.

Each hovel in the grotto was a masterclass in concealment. The fur rags of the goblin villagers were enough to protect their modesty. Their weapon of choice was a wooden club. To improve our welcome chances, we released our prisoners. As they peeked, curiosity winning over caution, Luda greeted them as long-lost friends. Her opening question took all our hosts by surprise.

“How many Oath Keepers are still alive?” asked Luda. Koria hung off to the right of her. A tower of muscle. I tried to hide behind Luda and failed. Several of their judgemental eyes fell on me. None spoke until a gnarled, bent, overaged goblin pushed his way clear from his hidden hovel.

“Few,” says the male elder, his voice slightly in awe. “Are you a powerful crone?”

“No,” answers Luda.

“But how did you know? No blood tasting, sniffing only?”

“In time. First, answer my questions.”

He nods and settles down, crossing his legs as he does. The rest of the villagers squat as well. The youngest are consuming our fruit, I notice. He waves to Luda to continue.

“Mercenary Troop?”

The old one was talkative. He still wanted Luda to be their crone, which seemed vital to them. They were a fifth Oath Keeper mercenary troop called the Black Spears. The Old Crone of all the Oath Keepers dreamt of all their futures and determined that one troop of the six had to venture south until they could travel no more. With a good number of Oath Keeper females, they would create a haven for Oath Keepers if the rest of them failed in their mission to destroy Rexa, the High Priestess of Lord Klug. All of this was news to me, of course. After listening for some time, my attention drifted. This was all meaningless prattle as far as I was concerned.

The most foolish thing they lauded over was the purity of their blood. For example, they still knew how to purify it as originally taught. A few females and males with a drop of Oath Keepers blood they gained on their travels south became Oath Keepers by that method.

To me, the ability to purify their blood meant Oath Keeper blood purity as something honoured or sacrosanct meant nothing. Also, the females lost their pots of Lord Klug’s blood in the desert, which seemed tragic for some profound reason. Why not purify their blood to Lord Klug’s instead of Oath Keeper? I didn’t speak my thoughts, as Luda had them as an audience in the palm of her hand. They hung on her every utterance.

We agreed to go chase shadows from their past. A break-away group who, after being rejected by the town, didn’t want to return to the desert. They headed towards the mountains. We found some huts and caves, which contained firepits. Elsewhere, we found bones, but scant bones were recognisable, being only fragments.

On our third overnight, we found out why. Enormous animals visited, furred, large fangs, and if we were still on Earth, I would call them a long-lost relative of the tiger. The goblins hid in fear. I stayed with them. Koria and Luda told them I was their protection. The wives of Lord Klar revelled in the hunt. Some nights, they would return with wounds, other nights with carcasses. On those nights, we ate well. They saved everything: furs, teeth, claws, and bones.

They coerced the Oath Keepers to dig pits, arm themselves with crude spears, and join the hunt. I don’t think they understood their role fully. They were bait. Only the juvenile tigers remained, and these shied away from their parents’ killers. His wives also talked about their past and how Lord Klar taught them this exact way to hunt. Their powerful emotions in this regard impressed me. I knew if the choice was between saving him, themselves, or me, they wouldn’t hesitate to save him. With this clarity, I became even more determined to ensure I would be Lord Klar’s next wife. I just hoped the novelty of an ugly wife would win him over.

By the time we headed north, the foolish Oath Keepers practically worshipped the two wives of Lord Klar. They questioned no order, beyond reasonable or not. We found a string of goblin villages. Luda would approach them with tiger furs to barter, and she would gain clothes for her followers. She finished the trades quickly in the last few villages because they expected her.

Koria guided the rest of us around the villages. I am sure she did this to shield the primitive Oath Keepers, but I also got the strong feeling not showing my face and alarming the locals was a plus. By the time we approached the first sprawling town, with no walls to speak of and bustling, all the Oath Keepers could pass for peasant farmers. Koria and I still circled around and waited for Luda to return each day.

The number of Oath Keepers dwindled with each passing day. Luda found distant Oath Keeper relatives. She insisted her followers needed to wait with them as she may not return and needed to see them safe.

A small mix of young and old, male and female, escorted us north. Those few assuring Luda that their relatives could have journeyed onward. Luda traded her way through several more villages until we discovered another town. This town had several rings of walls, each outgrown until someone decided the last sprawl didn’t require a wall for protection.

Luda presented me with a fine dark blue woollen cloak, and both sisters insisted I draw the hood over my head. My joy rose and fell in the space of several heartbeats. Then we all entered the town.

The Inn of the Lost Tankard served as our base, and by whatever means possible, Luda offloaded the last of the Oath Keeper goblins.

None approached me at the bar as we relaxed at the end of the first day, free of Oath Keeper goblins. A couple of regulars would point me out to others, and it took none to little guessing to understand what they explained. Physically, I fell short. I quickly recovered my hood when it occasionally fell, for example. Looks of disgust and confusion from the Inn’s other guests confirmed my place. In contrast, the hobgoblin wife of Lord Klar and even the goblin wife attracted attention and easy-going conversation. Early on, I accepted I needed to be happy with eavesdropping because everyone considered me a hobgoblin in name only.

“Yes!” yells the innkeeper suddenly. I almost jump out of my skin. She is a robust and round female, taller than a goblin, shorter than me. “This is the first city on the coast. Founded by Zuba, daughter of Luda, when she and her followers settled to escape High Priestess Rexa many years ago.”

“Hail Zuba, daughter of Luda who earnt her name! Luda the Delver!” shouts another, and the entire bar of customers cheer and drink deeply.

From what I could gather, Koria asked about the founding of the town and found civic pride.

Settling back into non-existence, I notice the goblin wife of Lord Klar wipe moisture from her eyes. Immediately after, her face darkens, and she lifts her beer tankard to her lips, taking small sips. I sense she is trying to hide her face. As those around the bar continue conversing, discussing the migration and impossible survival trip through the mountains, she wipes her eyes more than once. She is enduring some sort of private pain. No one else notices. Koria is busy being the centre of attention.

When they regale the tales about Zuba’s goblin and hobgoblin sons, Lord Klar’s goblin wife makes a quiet excuse to no one and heads off to our room. A few still wave her off. I follow. None wave goodbye or call my name when I leave the bar.

I knock softly on the door. I don’t wait for an answer and push back the door.

“Crud!” she swears.

I close the door behind me and face her. Tears run down her cheeks despite her desperate attempt to wipe them away.

“I can go,” I offer.

“It is our room,” she snipes.

I thought about opening with a friendly chat, asking after her and so forth. No, the direct approach would serve me better.

“Why does Luda’s daughter Zuba bring you to tears?”

She stares up at me. My heart pounds in my chest. I resist the urge to make conversation, as my role is to listen.

“Being a wife of Lord Klar brings many benefits. Sometimes, though, great pain. On our deaths, Lord Klar will call us back to him. He gifts us with a body.” She spreads her hands to point out the obvious. “I was a goblin before this life. My name was Luda. I was Zuba’s mother.”

I take a step towards her and then halt. “You should be proud of her,” I offer.

“Should I be proud that she succeeded despite her mother having given up in every way possible except for taking her own useless life?”

“You gave birth to her. She resisted the High Priestess and forged her own way. That takes strength of character. Holding on to her independent thought. As her mother, you are at least half of her. She took your name as part of earning her name. She remembered you.”

Luda wipes her face. “For an ugly bitch, you can prattle, can’t you?” I open my mouth to speak, and she holds up a hand. “The truth remains that I hid like a scared, lost rabbit on The Farm, tending bees. When everyone’s fate depended on me, I released the greatest secret. Since then, all have been paying for my lapse.” She covers her face with her hands. “I died without earning my name, lonely, insanely muttering to bees. I didn’t know the fate of my daughter or, at the time, care. Rexa took my daughter from me like she did with others shortly after they were born. I didn’t get the time to be any sort of mother.”

I rush forward and knock away her protesting arms. Hugging her, I realised if she didn’t want this embrace, she could have easily beaten me to a pulp. Such is the advantage of being Lord Klar’s wife, consuming his seed and blood.

She was sleeping when a tipsy Koria joined us.

After much-repeated questioning, Koria tells me this is our last night. Our last breakfast will be in the morning. She also tells me she will need a sleep-in and to tell her sister when she wakes. Sister? Doesn’t she mean sister-wife?

The hobgoblin wife of Lord Klar admitted, between slurred speech, that she had to use their last tiger teeth to confirm a stranger had visited the town several months ago. Further, he won the Queen and three others to his loins.

“Tell my sister her nose was true. The female she smelt him on was one of the four. Her round belly was full of his child.” Through her drunken speech, I still detect sadness in her voice. Does their idol, the Lord Klar, deny them childbirth?

She crashes onto her bunk bed and grunts. When I think she is done, she waves a finger.

“The common view is the stranger headed north, returning to where he came from.”

Four submitted to his loins, and four are now with child. All that tells me is that Lord Klar favours spreading his seed. In fact, has a reputation, and I am a female hobgoblin. Fortunately, he doesn’t need to see my face when he ruts with me, and maybe I will keep my cloak on to cover most of my pale skin.

---

We break our fast at the same table where Koria had drunk her last ale early this morning.

The doors of the Inn swing open, and a robed hobgoblin steps in. Her cowled face surveys the common room and stops when she spies us. Flipping back the cowl, she approaches our table.

“Word has reached my ears that a certain goblin and hobgoblin pair have been asking about a stranger, one with virile seed, acceptable to even Queen Luda.”

Koria stands while shoving back her chair with a loud scrape. “Maybe.”

“My twin sister and I are beneficiaries of this stranger.” She pats her not-so-obvious belly. The voluminous robe is a clever disguise. “He has left the city. We consider he has broken his obligation. His token release letter, which he asked another to present to us, was not an honourable substitute. The Queen can’t abandon the city, of course, and we know she is heartbroken. But we, unlike another of his concubines, who foolishly chased after him in the middle of the night, plan before we journey. My sister and I have stores of food, water, and beasts of burden. We would like to invite the group of three who have been asking after him if they wish to join us.”

Luda tries to step forward to speak, but a look from Koria stalls her. Given Luda’s low point yesterday, I assume she would have nothing but venom for anyone trying to claim an obligation from Lord Klar. How Koria detected her mood is a guess, but my firm favourite explanation is that there is an innate magic between sister wives of Lord Klar. Not like my magic, but a magic.

“We have skills which can protect ourselves and others we keep company with. What do you and your sister offer?”

She sniffs deeply and smiles directly at Luda. “My sister and I have benefitted from multiple recent deposits of Lord Klar’s seed. You and the goblin know what that means. We are also the daughters of a wise mother, a merchant. Overland journeying is in our blood. We prepare, and then we check and prepare more if required.”

From the depths of her robe, she frees and throws a sword in a scabbard to Koria, who deftly catches the gift. She retrieves a short bow, quiver of arrows, and dagger next. Then kneels and offers them to Luda. I notice Koria’s fingers squeeze Luda’s shoulder as she passes her. The goblin accepts the weapons without comment or fuss.

“The weapons are a gift for hearing me out or a sign-on bonus if you agree to travel with us.”

Koria drops the last of our tiger teeth on the table. I thought she said we had none left. She throws a glance at me, then Luda.

“North then?” says Koria.

“North,” the concubine confirms. “We know he came from the North, as there are at least two goblin villages where he has left multiple deposits of his seed. We will avoid these villages because they will ask us about our business. Once they suspect or discover, we will inherit a horde of lovesick goblins wishing to be reunited with Lord Klar. Well, that is what our agent suspects will happen after he visited all the northern villages several weeks ago.”

“Why would you send an agent north?” I ask.

She examines me. Her eyes linger and study. The silence reaches an awkward stage.

“You are most unfortunate.” I almost drown in the deluge of pity in her eyes. “Everyone knows about the ugly female, but only now I can confirm the stories are true. Most unfortunate.”

Tell me something I don’t know! I think and fume. Her hands reach for her throat. See if she can talk without air!

A hand slaps my face while a voice shouts my name. I blink and take a deep breath. The concubine staggers back, flinging out a hand to steady herself while filling her lungs with air. Her watering eyes glare at me. Yet behind those same eyes is fear. Yes, bitch, some may consider this female hobgoblin to be ugly, but she has a sting.

Strong fingers grab my jaw, forcing me to look away from the concubine. Koria is in my face.

Her snarl is loud enough for me and the concubine to hear. “Don’t do that again to the help, you hear me? Otherwise, I will rip out your tusks.”

My tusks! Can I do the same to Koria? Two things quickly cool my impulse. I don’t know how I did that to the concubine. Seething anger one moment, and she couldn’t breathe the next. The second reason revolves around Koria being Lord Klar’s wife. I am uncertain if my trick would work on her or any of his wives. She and Luda slaughtered tigers with crude spears. Steel in her hands would end me, if I tried, and fail. And unlike everyone else travelling north, I am the only one yet to be gifted Lord Klar’s seed, and I mean to by any means possible. But to succeed, I need to remain alive.

I prepare my most sorrowful eyes and nod. Koria releases my jaw, and we follow the concubine out of the Inn.

P.S. If you are not reading this chapter for free on Royal Road or Scribble Hub, then the website you are on has stolen my story.