Page 12 of My Fated Minotaur Hero

The two orcs lumber up to the bar, already three sheets to the wind by the looks of it.

"Nah, I can see you got those fairy lights up... they make me dizzy,” Grunk slurs.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” I say, trying to figure out how to get rid of them.

“No, we wouldn’t. We came here because we know it’ll be a human-free zone!” Borgin announces to the empty bar.

“Oh, is that a thing now?” My heart sinks.

“It damn well should be! You heard about that human?" Borgin grunts. "Living with Thokk now. It ain't right. Ain’t orc-like you ask me."

I feel a flash of protectiveness, both for Zoe and the woman currently hiding under my bar. This is exactly what Iwas worried about. "Now, now," I say smoothly. "Let's not judge too hastily. Thokk seems happy, doesn't he?"

Grunk snorts. "Happy? He's gone soft. What's next, inviting the whole human world over for tea?"

I laugh, though it feels forced. "Come on, you know Thokk. Soft isn't exactly in his vocabulary. How about a round on the house, eh? To new beginnings?"

“To a human-free zone!” Borgin slurs.

Things are getting worse and worse.

As I pour out my strongest ale, Grunk grabs something off the bar.

“What the hell is this?”

It must have spilled out of Fiddle’s pocket or something, I realize as I make out the object in his hand.

“It’s a twenty-sided die.”

“Oh, from Cubicles and Chihuahuas?” Grunk eyes it.

“Those nerds,” Borgin interjects. “Roll for drunkenness!”

Without another word, Grunk casts it across the bar as they both erupt into raucous laughter.

Orcs aren’t known for their sophisticated humor.

It clatters and rolls until it falls right over the edge, landing right in front of Olivia. Our eyes lock, even as I notice her eyes go wide at the sight of the die. But she doesn't move or even make a sound. But again, I feel that wave of excitement hit me for that instant. It’s like we are in on some secret together that no one knows about. Even though we only just met, it feels like we have shared the secret for years. The effect is only heightened when we both realize the orc has rolled a twenty.

Congratulations Grunk, you have rolled for max drunkenness.

But they have both already forgotten about the die and have returned to arguing about what they seem to think of as the human scourge of late. Thankfully, they really are that drunk, and I breathe a sigh of relief as they soon stumble out,but my reprieve is short-lived. More customers arrive, and soon the bar is bustling again.

I shouldn’t complain. It seems the beer garden is an overwhelming success. But, gods, the timing of all this couldn’t be worse.

Hours pass, and guilt and worry still gnaws at me. Poor Olivia, cramped under there. But I have little choice. I am still a bit nervous she may be discovered, so I artfully pile some crates behind the bar to further conceal her, just in case.

Finally, mercifully, the last patron leaves. I lock up, then rush back to Olivia.

"I'm so sorry," I start, but the words die in my throat.

She's dead asleep, and actually looks comfortably so. She’s pulled in some clean bar rags to use as a pillow, and overall looks remarkably relaxed. Something tugs at my heart. She looks adorable. She’s so small, so vulnerable. Before I know what I'm doing, I scoop her up gently in my arms and head toward my private rooms.

She stirs slightly as I carry her upstairs. "No maze," she mumbles. “No bad minotaur ...”

"No maze," I whisper back, bemused. "And, I’m a good minotaur,” I whisper. She rearranges herself in my arms and buries her head in my chest as I bring her into my bedroom. I can’t help but lower my head into her hair to breathe in her intoxicating scent. It’s an odd combination of honeydew and ... dusty books? I focus on the honey dew.

I tuck her into my oversized armchair, draping a soft blanket over her. It easily fits her little human frame comfortably. On impulse, I leave a glass of milk on the side table.

---