"Kleim found someone roaming the tunnels alone. He's bringing her to the common area." The nameless orc spoke the words, then backed out of Nemia's room.
Nemia turned to Azlinar. "Who do you think it could be? The entrances were sealed. Vron should have been the last orc to enter. Do you think they're looking for him?"
"I don't know," Azlinar said. "I thought we made it very clear to the general that Vron had caught the infection. They'd be fools to send someone else down." He shuffled across the floor, listing to the side, his right shoulder hunched.
Nemia felt so bad for him. Though he was in full control of his mental faculties, his body had betrayed him. She understood how that felt. Her body had kept her from fulfilling the destiny assigned to her at birth. She was a princess. And someday, thanks to Azlinar, she would be a queen. She would make sure he was always cared for, too. No one deserved to be pushed aside like rubbish.
"Then where shall we put her?" Nemia asked.
This woman could ruin all of their plans if they didn't handle her properly. The miners were nearly all infected now, and those who weren't served Nemia directly. Only Azlinar's magic kept them from dying… though it also kept them from living. There was no cure, and yet there was no death. The infection needed to continue to thrive until Nemia was ready to unleash it aboveground.
"Allow me to handle it," Azlinar said. The tip of his tongue caressed his dry lips as he rubbed his gnarled hands together.
"No." Nemia stood and squared her shoulders. "I want to do it. After all, if I am to be queen someday, I need to know how to deal with others diplomatically. I'll practice on her."
"And if it goes poorly?" Azlinar asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Then I'll send her to the quarantine room next." Nemia's heart jumped as she thought of the innocent exposed to the infection. Still, it was necessary. If Nemia was to make a claim, she needed an army. And her army's only weapon was the infection.
She gathered her skirts, holding them up ever so slightly so she wouldn't trip, and walked down the hall. She knew breeches were a better choice, but she preferred the gowns that would have been hers if she'd been presented as the princess. She had watched Sabniss, the slave orc they'd chosen to take her place, prance around in the gowns for years. Before retiring underground, Nemia had fetched those gowns—and she'd worn them ever since.
She swept through the hall to the common room, a place where the few healthy, loyal orcs spent their days. The infected were kept far away, deep in the mines, in special locked rooms.
Kleim entered a moment later, a woman behind him.
Nemia immediately recognized her. It was the faun, Alyna, who had helped Tace and Vron take down the xarlug. Nemia had only seen her briefly, but it had been enough to leave an indelible impression. Alyna's beauty was exceedingly rare. Her curly red hair streamed down her back, and her green eyes flashed, even in the dim light of the underground. She stood tall and proud, as if the world had never pressed down on her shoulders. The only question was, did Alyna recognize her? They hadn't even formally met before Tace so cruelly dismissed Nemia, sending her away as if all the help she'd given Tace had been for naught.
"Hello," she said to Alyna in the human tongue, leaving the woman an opening to admit she knew Nemia.
Alyna's green eyes scanned the room before settling on Nemia. There was no spark of recognition. Not so much as an extra blink or the cock of an eyebrow.
"Hi, wow, I had no idea there were so many orcs down here. I'm grateful, though, that Kleim found me." Alyna rested a hand on her chest.
Nemia watched the faun curiously. Her horns hid under her hair, and her hooves were firmly ensconced in boots. She appeared human.
The faun thrust out a hand toward Nemia. "I'm Agatha."
Nemia took a few steps forward and shook Alyna's hand. It was a strange human custom, but one Nemia knew from watching her royal parents. They had rarely entertained humans at the castle in Agitar, but when they did, Nemia paid attention.
Nemia feigned laughter. "I'm sorry, too, that you are lost down here. Tell me, how is that you ended up in our tunnels?"
Alyna looked down at her boots, then took a deep breath before telling her lies. "After the beast attacked, I was separated from the human encampment. I took shelter in what I thought was a cave. I went deep into the back of it, hoping to hide from anyone who would do me harm, and before I knew it, I was lost. I never did find my way out, but I'm hoping you fine orcs might be able to help me."
"I promised her some food and drink," Kleim said.
Kleim was one of the orcs Nemia trusted most. He didn't know her full plans with the infected orcs, but she felt that when he did, he would understand. He was young, like her, and felt trapped in his station. But he had remained loyal to his fellow miners and stayed underground when he could have fled.
"Of course." Nemia swept an arm out. "We would love to have you dine with us before we take you aboveground."
Alyna smiled and dipped into a quick curtsey, another strange human custom, this one done only by the females. Nemia found human gender roles strange. Orcs could be anything they wanted, despite the body parts they were born with. Human females pretend to be weak to please their men. It wasn't a trait Nemia admired. She wondered if it grated on Alyna to feign submissiveness. In a way, it amused Nemia to watch her do it.
Kleim brought Alyna a serving of gruel and a cup of water. The faun took them greedily, as if she hadn't eaten in days. Nemia supposed part of her story might be true. Not long ago, they had scared that stupid General Dalgron out of their tunnels for the second time. If Alyna had been with him, that would explain her presence. Nemia would have preferred they'd both escaped, but it was too late now. She would have to deal with Alyna.
Making small talk wasn't a skill Nemia possessed. She preferred to be ignored. Despite her anger at being denied her rightful place on the throne, she had learned quickly to be present without being seen or heard. She knew how to appear uninteresting, to blend in with the other slaves while her hair hung about her face, hiding her birthmark.
Down here she didn't have to hide—not from anyone or anything. Here, everyone knew her as a young girl who had been fostered out to work as a slave to the queen. And yet Alyna, who had seen her during the battle with the xarlug, had never truly seen her. Nemia had blended in that day, as she always had. She was nothing, and was treated as such.
Well, Alyna would pay for her lies and deceit. She wasn't a lost human. She was a faun, a friend of Vron's, who had snuck down here hoping to play them all for fools. Nemia wouldn't have it. Not even for a moment.
She lifted her skirts ever so slightly and sat next to Alyna, who was ravenously wolfing down her food. Either the faun truly was starving, or she was very good at faking hunger. It mattered little. Once Alyna was well fed and relaxed, Nemia would take care of her. She would take Alyna to the quarantine room herself and introduce her to the orcs riddled with disease. Then she would use both Alyna and Vron as leverage.
She had to keep herself from cackling, though. She was, if nothing else, extraordinarily patient.