My Orc Husband Is Rather Handsome

[Chapter 2] Maddox

The next morning, Cecile stirred awake, the dim light of dawn filtering into the small, cave-like room. As she shifted, she felt the weight of something soft against her shoulders. A hideskin cloth had been draped over her, providing some warmth. Confused, she looked around, slowly realizing it must have been left there by him—the orc who had stumbled in drunk the night before.

Cautiously, she glanced toward the other side of the room. The orc was gone, but near the door, a single bucket of water sat waiting. Relief and a sense of urgency washed over her. It wasn't much, but she was covered in the grime of the past few days—blood, mud, and sweat sticking to her skin in layers. She couldn't stand it any longer.

Cecile quickly undressed, peeling off her bloodstained skirt and top, the fabric stiff from dirt and wear. She knelt by the bucket, scooping the cool water into her hands and splashing it over her body. It was far from luxurious, but it was better than nothing. The water felt like a brief salvation, washing away the filth that clung to her skin.

As she worked, she realized that her skirt was too thick and cumbersome for the small amount of water in the bucket. She tore the skirt into pieces. Smaller strips of fabric were easier to clean with the limited water she had. She scrubbed each piece as best she could, her fingers raw from the effort.

When she finished, she stood, wringing the water from the torn fabric.With no choice but to wait for her clothes to dry, she used the stool and the edges of the fireplace to spread the damp pieces of fabric out, hoping the heat would quicken the process. She started a small fire, feeding it carefully with bits of dry wood scattered near the hearth.

The warmth filled the room, making her feel a little more comfortable today, at least the cold did not seep into her skin and cause her ill health. Cecile sat down, completely bare, her skin still damp from the makeshift bath and the hideskin cloth remained draped over her shoulders. She stared at the fire, the crackling flames the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

As Cecile waited in the silence, the door creaked open again, and she immediately jumped to her feet, instinctively wrapping the hideskin tighter around her bare body. Her eyes narrowed, heart racing, as she pressed her back against the wall, panic surging through her veins. Could this be it? Was this the moment she had dreaded since her capture?

It was him—the orc from the previous night. He returned, a massive boar draped across his broad shoulders. Cecile's breath caught in her throat as he glanced at her, his towering figure making her feel even smaller. She didn't dare speak, too afraid that any wrong word could ignite a violent rage. But to her surprise, he simply looked away, dropping the dead animal in the corner of the room. Without hesitation, he pulled out a large machete, clearly preparing to butcher it on the spot.

"Wait!" Cecile blurted out, unable to stop herself. The orc paused, his brow furrowing in confusion as he turned to face her. Her heart pounded as she realized the language barrier between them. She gestured to the boar and the machete, then made a cutting motion with her hand, hoping he would understand. He watched her, puzzled but attentive, his knife still poised at the animal's neck.

"No, stop! Do that outside!" she said, pointing toward the door. For a moment, he just stared at her as if trying to decipher her meaning. But then, slowly, he set the machete down and stood, moving toward the door. Cecile exhaled, stunned that he had actually listened. For a moment, she stood frozen before shaking herself back into action.

Tying the hideskin tighter under her arms, she approached the boar and gripped its legs, dragging the heavy carcass with great effort toward the door. Her body strained with exhaustion by the time she reached the entrance, but the orc, seeing her struggle, watched curiously. She placed the boar at his feet, panting, then hurried back inside to fetch the machete.