The Olympian Affair (The Cinder Spires, #2)

by Jim Butcher

He had to look up at Ransom slightly to frown in disapproval, of which he disapproved.

“I get in less trouble when I keep my teeth together,”

“Duels are meant precisely for trivial matters!”

“Bayard is a born hero, which is the larval form of a dead hero.

She positioned her upper body provocatively—though, Grimm thought, he supposed that she would have difficulty doing otherwise.

“I couldn’t leave the ’Maiden any more than you could your darling. She’s my real wife. Just like you.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have trouble finding a partner,” Grimm consoled him. “They’re all too tall.” Gwen turned from where she walked arm in arm with her father and said, “I’m not, Commodore.” Bayard frowned at her. “You’re too . . . Lancaster.” Lord Lancaster arched an eyebrow. “Too Lancaster?” Gwen said merrily. “You’d lead,” Bayard deadpanned.

Normal people are so odd,” Folly said. “They have so many rules and then tell me dressing the way I feel is strange.”

perhaps the fates of a quarter of a million human beings—and more than one hundred fifty tribes of cats—may be more important than your pride.” Rowl stared at her for a moment, and then said, “I am not sure I follow you.”

“Littlemouse, for you, I would . . .” He paused. “Not trim my whiskers. Not shave my tail. But I would eat food that was not good at the very least. Or get all wet.”

“I could shoot him in the leg, I suppose. Just a little.”

“Good morning, Miss Tagwynn, or rather, good noon.”