Page 60 of The Savage Vow
She took a few steps forward and glanced behind the counter where her workshop and Yambul’s office were located. The contract felt heavy in her bag as if it weighed a full stone. She swallowed hard and forced her feet to move. A knot formed in her stomach.
Put it back exactly where you found it.
Bula’s voice echoed in her mind. Orlena slipped into the office. The small space smelled faintly of stale smoke and ink. His desk loomed in front of her, cluttered with ledgers and scattered papers.
Her hands shook as she pulled the parchment from her bag. For one reckless heartbeat, she considered keeping it. This was proof of her freedom. But Bula had been clear that they needed time.
Orlena carefully slipped open the drawer and tucked the document beneath a stack of papers where she’d found it. She adjusted the edges until everything looked untouched. She stepped back, her lungs burning. She scurried from the office and closed the door.
It was done.
She went into her workshop and set her bag down on the table. A strange feeling came over her. Technically, she was a free woman. The knowledge shimmered inside her like a secret flame. She pressed a hand to her chest, a smile tugging at her lips.
She was a free woman.
Those words just seemed unreal.
Soon, she and Bula would leave Soza. They would travel beyond the village walls, across the breathtaking lands of Aghon. She pictured bustling cities carved into cliffs, markets filled with bright fabrics and foreign spices, and roads that stretched endlessly toward the horizon.
For the first time in her life, her dream felt within reach.
A giggle escaped her at the thought of leaving. She glanced around her station and decided she’d better get to work. There was no sense in standing here grinning to herself and daydreaming. Yambul would yell and scream at her for wasting precious time.
The rhythm of carving steadied her nerves. Wood curled beneath her blade in thin ribbons, falling softly to the floor. She focused on her long list of tasks that she needed to accomplish. She hummed while she worked. Time flew by, and before she knew it, the sun was blaring through the windows. She glanced at the front door and frowned. Yambul had not arrived at his usual time. He was rarely late. When he was, it was never more than a few minutes.
Unease filled her. She wasn’t sure why, but a queasy sensation settled deep inside her.
Get a grip. Maybe he had business to attend to before coming to the shop.
Not that he would tell her any of that.
By the time the shop was due to open, he still hadn’t showed up. She went ahead and unbolted the door and opened up. The morning passed slowly. A few customers wandered in. She greeted them, answered questions, and sold some items.
Each time the door opened, her heart leaped into her throat.
But no Yambul.
She expected to see his broad frame blocking the entrance. Each time relief filled her that it was not him.
Near midday, a customer entered, a middle-aged human with kind eyes. He went over to the bow section and had plenty of questions for her. He finally selected a bow, and they went over to the counter. Orlena wrapped it carefully and was grateful for his casual conversation.
“You, my dear, have a talent,” he said warmly.
“Thank you. I’ve been doing this for a long time,” she replied. A genuine smile appeared on her lips.
“Well, I can sure tell. A friend of mine recommended me to purchase a bow. We are going on a hunting trip soon, and I figured now would be a better time to get me a new bow.” He went into details of his trip and his group of friends who were going.
She was envious of what sounded like a memorable time with friends. She couldn’t wait to start making memories with Bula when they traveled.
“That sounds like you’re going to have a lot of fun.” She took his payment and completed his transaction.
“I will. Thank you so much.” He picked up his bag and walked toward the door.
She turned away to grab the items that needed to be put back on the shelves. She made her way down one of the isles to find where the first item belonged. The bell above the door chimed.
Heavy footsteps thundered inside.
Orlena looked up just as Yambul pushed past the customer and stormed in. The warmth drained from her body. Yambul’s face was twisted with rage, his tusks bared in a snarl.
