Gyda Lionrock thinks her visit to Asclan Peak is for one reason and one reason alone-to procreate and finally welcome that child of her own. She could have never guessed she would also leave something behind inside the mountains, but it was her hear...
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"Look at you! Every time I see you, your belly has gotten rounder and rounder!" Ms. Glover shouted from behind her desk after I'd stepped into the library. "How far are you now?"
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Every week, she asked how far I was in my pregnancy. As if my pregnancy duration was not the same as any other woman's. We'd all conceived during the same night.
"Five and a half months, Mr. Glover." I put my hands on my belly and gently patted against the bump when I felt my baby kicking for the first time today. I smiled. Every morning when I felt that first little—or not so little—kick, I felt relieved. I suppose I had to thank Ms. Glover's shrill voice this time. Nobody could sleep through that, not even the little person inside of me. "Just like your daughter, remember?"
"Yes, of course. I just like to ask. I'm silly like that!"
I had to suppress a giggle when I looked at Bo, one of the writers, who was rolling her eyes for me.
"And how are you feeling today?" She walked around her desk, holding something in her hand—a soft little package, wrapped with ribbon.
"Still great," I replied.
"That's good." She reached for my belly and rubbed it. "Did she already announce herself today?"
"I just felt a kick."
"Wonderful! Anyway, I made something for my daughter and for a few other girls in town." She took her hand off my belly and offered me the package. "And I also made these for you. Or actually for your baby!"
"Thank—"
"Go on, open it!"
"Thank you." I put my bag on the ground, needing both my hands to open the present. After untying the ribbon and folding open the linen cloth that was wrapped around it, I found a pair of brown leather baby boots. "Aw, they are so tiny!"
Seeing these little shoes made me realize it was bizarre how fast a baby could grow. My littlest niece Cici was only one and a half years old, but she was already so big that I could hardly imagine she'd ever fit shoes this small.
"Do you like them?"
"Yes, I love them." Ms. Glover had the ability to exhaust me beyond words, but this was a sweet gesture. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome! Now, let's pray for a girl, hm? Or even better—a human boy! So that you can actually use them! Though we both know that the chance for a boy is small..." She looked defeated. "Sadly."
So that you can actually use them? What did she even mean by those words?
Did she mean that orc babies didn't even get to have shoes while they were brought to their fathers in the cold autumn weather? Were they so inferior that even a gifted pair of leather shoes were too valuable to put on their tiny feet for the journey?
