Chapter 7

If I kept it from Luciano, I'd be stuck having a baby and raising it all alone in this world. Just a human woman with a half-orc kid—trying to survive in an orc-dominated world like this? That was pretty much impossible.

I still hadn't decided.

But fate didn't give me much time to hesitate.

On the tenth day after opening my clinic, we got an unexpected guest in Velburg.

It was Luciano's second-in-command, the general of the Nine-Tailed Fox Tribe—Harley Atkinson.

He stood in front of my tiny clinic, clad in armor with a long sword at his hip, fox ears standing at attention. He looked dead serious, like he was here to bust the place up.

"Your Highness," he said, locking eyes with me, "the King's been missing for ten days. The elders are freaking out and demand he return to Tharburg right now."

Before I could say a word, Luciano poked his head out from behind the medicine cabinet, still holding a handful of licorice he hadn't finished chopping.

"I'm not going back," he said.

Harley looked like he'd just been hit with a brick.

"Your Majesty." He went down on one knee. "You're the King of the Nine-Tailed Fox Tribe. You can't be chopping herbs in some human clinic."

"I like chopping herbs," Luciano said.

"Your people need you," Harley protested.

"They don't need me. What they really need is a symbol on the throne. That symbol could be anyone. It doesn't have to be me," Luciano said, tossing the licorice into the jar and brushing off his hands. "But I need to be here."

Harley jerked his head up, glancing between Luciano and me, his eyes full of complicated emotions.

"Your Majesty," he said in a low voice, "you've lost your memory. You don't even remember her."

"I don't need to remember," Luciano cut him off. "My tails remember."

Harley just went silent.

I went silent too.

Harley stared at the nine tails poking out from under Luciano's robe, all wagging wildly in my direction. He didn't say a word for a whole ten seconds.

Then he stood up and looked at me deeply.

"Your Highness," he said, "please take care of the King."

With that, he turned and walked away, his steps resolute.

I rushed to the door. "Wait, I'm not the Queen anymore; he divorced me."

Harley didn't even glance back. "Those divorce papers weren't stamped with the royal seal, so they're not valid. You're still his wife."

I stood there, stunned.

From behind me, Luciano's voice floated over, soft and uncertain. "Miss Robinson, does that mean you're still my wife?"

I turned around and saw Luciano standing in front of the medicine cabinet, all nine tails sticking straight up, his ears poking out from his hair. He looked like he'd been frozen in place, completely stunned.

"So those divorce papers don't count?" Luciano asked again, his voice shaking.

"They don't count," I said.

His eyes went red with emotion, instantly filling with tears.

Then he shifted back into his true form—a massive silver-white fox—and lunged straight at me.

"Luciano, get off me. You're crushing me. I'm gonna suffocate. Quit stuffing your tails up my nose. Luciano!" I shouted, struggling.

That afternoon, the people of Velburg witnessed a real spectacle.

A gigantic nine-tailed fox was parked right in front of the Robinson Veterinary Clinic, all nine tails bundled tightly around a human woman, making her look like one enormous, fluffy silver-white furball.

The woman's angry yelling echoed out from inside the furball, loud and fiery as ever.

Meanwhile, the tips of the nine-tailed fox's tails were wagging with pure joy, each one whipping around like a propeller.

All the orcs passing by stopped in their tracks, gawking at the scene.

"Wait, is that a nine-tailed fox? Aren't they supposed to be up north?" one of them asked.

"No idea, but that fox looks seriously happy," another chimed in.

"Look at those tails, they're wagging so hard, it's like they're about to take off," someone else said.

"Tsk, getting yelled at by his wife and still looking that pleased? That fox must be out of his mind," another orc joked.

Luciano didn't care one bit about what anyone else thought.

He buried his face in my hair, breathed me in deeply, then spoke directly into my mind—his voice muffled and gentle.

"Darling," he murmured.

"Don't call me that." I snapped.

"Okay, darling," he answered.

"Luciano, let me go," I said.

"No way. I'm never letting you go, not for my whole life," he shot back.

I squirmed in his fluffy tangle of tails for what felt like forever, but eventually just gave up.

His tails were so, so warm.

And through all that fur, I could hear his heartbeat—thumping quick, like it was saying, "I'm here. I'm not letting you go alone ever again."

I pressed my face deeper into his fur, closed my eyes, so he couldn't see the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.

After Harley left, something subtle shifted in Luciano.

He started having nightmares almost every night. Every time, he'd wake up drenched in sweat, his nine tails fanning out wildly and knocking furniture all over the room.

The first night, I was woken up by all the noise.

I rushed into his room and found him curled up in the corner of the bed, still in human form but with his ears and tails poking out, looking like he was trying to disappear into himself.