Elf Defence (Adventures in Aguillon #2) - Lisa Henry Page 0,15

enough for you?” Gretchen asked. She walked over to a trestle table at the side of the workroom and poured herself a drink from a pitcher.

“No.” Benji rolled his eyes. “We should be dismantling the systems of power, not running around playing quests!”

Gretchen took a long drink and set her mug down. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Talk me through this ‘dismantling systems of power’ when you’re a part of the systems of power again.”

Benji scowled. “I’m infiltrating them. Anyway, we could still burn things to the ground, is all I’m saying.”

“And replace them with what?” Gretchen asked curiously.

“With ashes!”

Gretchen snorted. “If you’re going to burn something down, you should at least think about what to replace it with.”

“No, that’s not true.” Benji lifted his chin. “Because until you burn it down, nobody thinks ‘Oh, we need a new thing.’ You have to burn it down first, so then people can talk about what to put there in its place. Back at my old collective, they didn’t even realise they could have had a children’s playground the whole time, until I burned the schoolroom down. Three times. I did them a favour!”

“You have interesting ideas, Benji,” Gretchen said.

“Thank you!”

Gretchen raised her eyebrows. “What makes you think it was a compliment?”

Benji shrugged. He’d take it anyway. He plonked himself down on a barrel and inspected his new bollock dagger. The blade was beautifully sharp, and the whole thing was perfectly balanced. He practiced a few parries and thrusts.

“Careful with that,” Gretchen said. She stretched, and her impressive muscles popped.

“I think I know what I’m doing,” Benji replied archly.

“Well, aren't you just the cutest little murder puppy?” Gretchen asked, and leaned forward to tousle his hair.

Benji thought about stabbing her, but she’d just given him a knife for free, and also he wasn’t totally sure that even if he stabbed her he would win. She could snap him like a twig, and he’d probably thank her for it and ask for more.

“So why are you skulking about in here instead of helping your cousin and the new duke?” Gretchen curled her lip when she mentioned the new duke, and Benji warmed to her even more.

“They’re so annoying,” he said. “It’s like Calarian is spending all his time showing Lars how to be a duke, and it’s stupid and dumb, and boring.”

Gretchen snorted. “I can’t believe Duke Klaus made that idiot his successor.”

“Right?” Benji exclaimed indignantly, before he remembered that technically Duke Klaus hadn’t. Still, he was enjoying his and Gretchen’s shared outrage far too much to correct her. “Me neither!”

“I mean, I knew the old man was getting a bit senile, but Lars?” Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Lars is useless.”

“I know!” Benji was definitely in love with Gretchen now. She was perfect, and he wanted to worship her. Maybe she’d let him lick her boots after she stood on his balls? Because he could be up for that. He gazed longingly at her magnificent forearms and wondered how hard it would be for him to convince her to join him for a romp between the sheets. Or on the floor, after she’d kicked him a bit.

He was just about to suggest it when Gretchen looked over towards him, her expression softening into something unspeakably fond. Benji barely had time to hope that all his ball-crushing, blacksmith-schtupping dreams were about to come true and was preparing to open his mouth and deliver his best pickup line (‘wanna fuck?’) when Gretchen strode right past him. “Wifey! Did you bring me lunch?”

At the word wifey, Benji felt his heart crumble like an overbaked gingerbread horse as the realization struck him that Gretchen was never going to crush his head between her thighs after all. Of course someone as magnificent and intimidating as Gretchen was going to be taken. Benji turned around to see who had stolen his magnificent blacksmith goddess, and his dreams, and did a double take, because he recognised Gretchen’s wifey at once—it was Hannah, the master baker’s dick-bread baking apprentice. He had to admit, it made a weird sort of sense for them to be together. Gretchen had picked up the tiny red-headed woman carrying a large wicker basket who’d just entered the forge, and was swinging her around. He tried not to stare in admiration and/or jealousy as the two of them shared a lingering kiss, and when they finally broke apart Hannah nodded in his direction.

“Hey, it’s the royal advisor,” Hannah said. “The one who