Page 7
“Nadir, escort Registry Brides to throne hall while Grak deal with interrupting Bride,” he instructs. “Grak will continue going over Rules once Brides are gathered there.”
I gulp as the guy with the serrated spear comes forward to escort everyone but me to the stairs. Adelaide looks worriedly over her shoulder at me as she and Aimee are herded away with the rest of the Registry Brides.
But soon my view of her is blocked by the hulking Orc General, who has to stand at least seven feet tall.
Super intimidating, to say the least. Yeah, I can definitely imagine him taking me down if I went for any of his weapons.
So, I’m surprised when he smiles and says, “Yes, of course, Human Female can opt out of Emperor’s Bride selection.”
“Oh, really?” I let out a huge sigh of relief.
Before he adds: “If Human Female wishes to spend rest of life in Orc fortress dungeon for breaking Registry covenant.”
My heart sinks.
“Grak will call Human Female Complainer,” he informs me with a dead-eyed smile before asking, “How long do humans live, Complainer? Seventy, eighty Lower Realm years? If Complainer in thirties, that would give Complainer about forty more Lower Realm years to live.… So around five hundred Middle Realm ones.”
“Actually,” I croak, my throat going dry. “I’m twenty-seven.”
“Twenty and seven,” he repeats with a disdainful look.
He then takes a step back and sweeps an arm toward the stairs. “Grak assumes Complainer would now prefer to join rest of Brides.”
With a gulp, I do just that, running to catch up with Aimee and Adelaide.
Chapter 6
Chosen
Sooner than I want, we’re herded into a massive hall with stone walls. In the center of it sits a throne made of various skulls and bones. How many animals died to build such a monstrosity? I wonder.
Then my stomach pitches when I see the decidedly humanoid shape of some of the skulls, and I realize it’s not made of animals at all, but a bleached collection of the Orcs’ enemies, which include Fae, Sun Elves, satyrs, and a few goblin species.
The guards start pushing us to our knees in a straight line before I can consider the full implications of the kind of person who would make a throne out of corpse bones.
No one looks happy to be here anymore, and a couple of the other women in the row are full-on sobbing.
“I don’t want to marry an Orc!” the redhead in the pink sundress cries out. “The Registry promised me a Fae King!”
“As Grak was saying…” The enormous Orc General comes to stand in front of us, his lip curled between his tusks, as if he’s smelled something foul.
“Registry Brides will not speak to Emperor unless spoken to,” he informs us. “Registry Brides will not look Emperor directly in eyes.…”
His gaze lands on me, the Complainer, who dared to question the weird eye-contact rule the first time he tried to go over it with us.
“Among Orcs, direct eye contact is challenge. Emperor will remove head of any Registry Bride foolish enough to issue such challenge.”
Another warning look gets shot my way.
“If Emperor wishes to inspect Bride, Emperor will lift Bride’s face. Registry Bride’s eyes must remain lowered during this inspection.”
His hard gaze sweeps over all of us this time.
“Do not challenge Emperor.”
He stops pacing for the last bit. “Emperor’s selection will begin anon and take no more than two Lower Realm minutes. If Emperor chooses Bride, unchosen Human Females will immediately be escorted back to train for next auction. If Brides have any questions…”
Several hands shoot up in the air, including Adelaide’s.
