Page 33 of The Orc's Protection
“He showed them how to check whether a classroom door is secure,” I correct, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “During a routine safety walkthrough. Hardly fighting moves.”
“I understand that. But combined with rumors about your… friendship, some parents worry about appropriate influences.”
The unfairness of it burns, hot and immediate. “Because he’s an orc.”
Principal Winters winces at my bluntness. “Cultural integration remains complex, Riona. The school board strongly supports diversity, but they are also elected officials sensitive to parental concerns.”
“What exactly are you asking me to do?” I challenge, meeting her gaze directly.
“I’m asking you to be mindful of perceptions,” she says carefully. “The board has requested that Mr. Vraag’s classroom visits be reduced to regular security checks only, and that demonstrations like the proper way to lock a door not be repeated without prior approval.”
My hands clench in my lap. “That’s ridiculous. The children learned valuable safety information, and they connect with him in a way that builds trust rather than fear. Isn’t that exactly what integration should be about?”
“Ideally, yes,” she agrees wearily. “But we’re dealing with the reality of where our community is now, not where we wish it was.”
I take a deep breath, fighting to maintain professional composure. “And what about my personal time? Am I forbidden from having dinner with a colleague?”
“Of course not,” Principal Winters says quickly. “Your personal time is your own. I’m simply suggesting discretion might be advisable while tensions ease.”
The word lands like a slap. “Discretion. As if there’s something shameful about being seen with him.”
“That’s not what I—”
“It is, though,” I interrupt, surprising myself with my vehemence. “If I’d been seen having dinner with Mr. Walsch or any other human staff member, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Principal Winters doesn’t deny it, which only fuels my indignation.
“Mr. Vraag is one of the most dedicated professionals I’ve ever worked with,” I continue, unable to stop now that I’ve started. “He connects with the children on their level while maintaining appropriate boundaries. He takes his security role seriously, not just as a job but as a sacred duty to protect. The fact that parents are complaining about him teaching safety checks while ignoring how he’s transformed our school security is both hypocritical and shortsighted.”
My voice has risen despite my efforts to remain calm. Principal Winters blinks, clearly taken aback by my passionate defense.
A subtle movement at the door catches my attention. Through the narrow window, I glimpse a familiar towering figure pausing briefly before continuing past. My heart clenches at the realization that Vraag may have overheard at least part of my outburst.
Principal Winters sighs, rubbing her temples. “I understand your frustration, Riona. Truly, I do. And for what it’s worth, I agree with much of what you’ve said. But my job is to balance multiple interests, including parent concerns, board directives, and yes, the important integration work you’ve highlighted.”
The fight drains out of me, replaced by a weary recognition of the reality we’re facing. “So, what happens now?”
“Mr. Vraag will continue his security duties, including regular checks of your classroom, given the previous break-in attempt. His classroom visits will be limited to security purposes only. And as for your personal relationship…” she hesitates.
“That’s not within your purview,” I state firmly.
She nods slowly. “No, it’s not. But I would be remiss not to mention that it could impact both your positions here if it becomes disruptive.”
The warning is clear, although delicately delivered. I stand, gathering my dignity. “Is that all?”
“For now,” she confirms. “The students will be arriving soon.”
I leave her office with my head high but my thoughts roiling in turmoil. As I round the corner toward my classroom, a large figure steps from the alcove near the water fountains.
Vraag stands before me, his expression carefully controlled yet somehow more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen it. My breath catches at the sight of him, memories of starlight and stolen kisses momentarily overwhelming the present tension.
His gaze flicks briefly to my throat, just long enough for me to know he’s noticed I’m wearing the necklace. Something unreadable passes through his eyes before he schools his expression again.
“You heard,” I say simply.
He nods once. “Perimeter check brought me past the office. I did not intentionally eavesdrop.”
“How much did you hear?”
