Page 77 of Ogres Don't Play

“You can’t face her. She’s got a lot of magic,” I said, grabbing onto the back of his shirt.

He smiled and patted my hair. “Such an adorable princess. I can see why he couldn’t run from you.” His scent changed. One moment he smelled of broody archangel, the next it was ogre. Pungent ogre who didn’t bathe very often. He also wasn’t very large, much smaller than Rook.

Wait, Gavriel was actually an ogre? Was he also a prince? Another strike of lightning came at us, but that time, Gavriel/ogre raised a shield out of the soapy water on the floor with a swoop of his blue hands, using it to catch the electricity and then send it down and over the floor towards the bloodthirsty elven elite who was standing in a puddle.

It all happened so fast. The ear-shattering boom of thunder, then the screech from the elf as her own lethal electric charge went through her, making creepy blue pattern lights all over her skin. Her hands stayed stretched out, frozen as she threw more and more and more of that deadly magic at us, unable to stop,unable to do anything but fry until her neat chignon was nothing but sizzling gold fluff.

The light show finally stopped and she dropped to the floor like her strings had been cut. I stared at her, then at Gavriel who was actually an ogre.

He was frowning at the elven woman. “Didn’t mean to kill her. Was supposed to record her confession, particularly about the elf under geas. No way to get that out of her if she’s dead. Unless you’d like to take her to the Necromancer.”

I shook my head at him. “Sorry, but what? Are you really Gavriel?”

He snorted and patted my head again. “So cute. No. He’s an archangel. You don’t honestly think that anyone would leave your protection to someone so delicate, do you?”

I blinked at him. Archangels weren’t delicate. “Who are you if you aren’t Gavriel?”

Just that moment, the doorway filled up with a group of pretentious-looking elves as well as Gray Society officers. The shortest elf pointed an accusing finger at me as he took in the scene. “Arrest her! She’s killed an elf princess! Not only is she a thief, a liar, and a scammer, she’s a murderer!”

The gray society officers were followed by a tawny, brawny fellow in a plaid suit who looked at the water on the floor cautiously. Seriously? Someone was going to arrest me? This just wasn’t my day.

“I didn’t kill anyone!” I snapped, raising my bandages. “How could I kill someone while I’m still recovering from the last great battle?” Had that elven princess actually set me up to fight Garnagth? I mean, it was a good thing to get it out of the way so I could marry Rook and we could live happily ever after, but…

The sneering elf wasn’t finished. He turned his pointy finger towards the ogre. I was so sick of sneering elves. “And him! Working with this tiny runt of an ogre to overthrow SingsongCity, are you?” His voice was really lovely, if you didn’t get caught up on the dripping contempt. His hands were also lovely, with the perfect taper for a harpist. I squinted at that face until recognition finally clicked. Was that really the Music Master over the entire country? He’d brought his very own Gray officers from Apple City? I was toast.

“Tiny runt?” the ogre rumbled, clearly less than impressed with the music master. “Who are you to insult me?”

He sniffed and straightened up. “I’m Georfus Fendelson, the Grand Music Master, and you are both under arrest.”

The ogre snorted. “You and what army?”

Tiago took that moment to groan and sit up. He stared around the kitchen, shocked gaze landing on the fallen princess. Then he saw me and stumbled to his feet, coming at me with hands outstretched.

“You’re alive!” Tiago cried.

The ogre expanded into this monstrous beast, blocking Tiago, and knocking him back to the floor.

I winced. His head didn’t need any more bumps.

“Be careful with him,” I snapped at the ogre, going towards Tiago.

The ogre picked me up and put me on the counter, blocking every danger. He was a very conscientious bodyguard. “He’s under geas. You can’t trust him, even if you think you can. He can’t even trust himself.”

Tiago shook his head, scrambling back to his feet. He sniffed and adjusted the monocle. “I beg your pardon, but the geas is gone. I can confess everything. And I will. Her name will be utterly erased from time.” He gave the princess a look so scathing and condescending, I was a little scared. “She was killed by her own magic? She was nothing more than a fool after all.”

“Princess Tarilee is a legend!” the short elf cried, clearly upset. “You will hang for your crimes!” Once again, he was pointing at me.

“Makes you want to bite off his hands, doesn’t it?” the ogre rumbled.

I frowned at him. His diction was extremely good for an ogre. “You’re Rook’s dad?”

He grinned at me, a vicious smile with such sharp tusks, it had to be a threat. “Just so. That makes you my daughter-in-law. I heard that you’ve been married.”

“What are you waiting for? Take her!” the grand music master said, starting to really get upset, flapping his hands at the Gray Society guards and the walking plaid demonstration.

“Ahem,” someone said from behind them. Then my grandfather slipped into the kitchen, glanced at the fallen princess, shot a look at the ogre king, and then turned a serene smile on Georfus. “But you are quite mistaken.” His voice was mellow, but the Grand Music Master inhaled and started turning several shades of color.

“Emperor Silvertongue, you never leave the golden lands. What brings you here?”

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