"I know. I'll just massacre a couple million dissidents at most. I consider the dwarven people mine already, so I won't destroy them."
"...Good."
Quinlan moved to the window, thoroughly pleased with the new mission, and collected his second-in-command on the way, one arm scooping Ayame off the window seat and folding her under it like a sack of very expensive potatoes.
"Wha... Quin!" The samurai's legs kicked once at the indignity. "I can walk!"
"I'm excited."
"And?!"
"I felt like picking you up."
"..." Ayame went still under his arm, chin propped on one hand, ears faintly pink.
She sighed. "Carry on, then."
The window swung shut behind the Primordial Villain, his dangling samurai, and the sound of a governor pretending very hard that her hands weren't still shaking over the tax rolls.
...
