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Lyrik narrowed his eyes, censuring my friend as if he knew something about this rogue that Aire and I didn’t. “I was being sarcastic, not literal.”

Hmm. Something about his past?

I opened my mouth to pounce on that, to goad him into telling us whatever he’d told Nicu, but he changed the subject in the same way Lyrik changed all subjects.

He slouched against the bench. “So who’s a virgin?”

Aire sighed, I raised a brow, and Nicu flushed twelve different shades of red. A crazy reaction from the latter, whose father had once been a renowned seducer of men and women. Sweet, unassuming Nicu probably knew little of the Court Jester’s frisky history, even if everyone else in the four kingdoms did. The jester’s experience, before promising himself to our princess, could have filled an anthology.

“Let’s see.” Lyrik pointed at Aire. “Over twenty and married. Answer’s clear.” He pointed at himself. “Plus, me. That disqualifies two of us.”

“Three, actually,” I corrected.

Aire’s head snapped toward me. I saw it from my periphery and felt a tick of satisfaction.

“Wait, really?” Lyrik asked. “You saying that lads have chopped your wood?”

“Ugh. As if I haven’t heard that one before.”

“Come on, it was funny. So you can...?”

Yes, I could. I felt desire the same way I breathed. And I acted on it.

Two boys. The first tumble had been as awful as my first kiss, ending before I’d registered its beginning. The second round had been with the locksmith’s apprentice, who managed to jimmy a few moans from me. We took a victory lap around that tourney field, learning the rhythm of things.

Granted, the pleasure never peaked. At least I didn’t think so.

Aware of the knight to my left, I tossed the boys a jaunty look that spoke for itself. It elevated the mood from somewhat immature to utterly immature. And much more jovial.

“How?” Nicu asked.

I grinned. “I have all the necessary parts.”

Lyrik leaned forward. “Do they work the same?”

“Pfft. How would I know?”

“Details. Do your conquests get splinters?”

A log slammed into the pit, a riot of sparks cutting off my giggles. The flames slapped the air. The entire hill of wood shifted, almost toppling over.

The three of us glanced at Aire, who wiped his hands.

“Damn.” Lyrik brushed soot off his coat. “What happened to your knightly restraint? You don’t need to burn the terrace down just because you’re jealous.”

“Lyrik,” Nicu scolded. “That’s a hush.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not personal or private or secret. Not if they make it obvious.”

“He’s not jealous,” I insisted.

“I am not covetous,” Aire echoed.

Lyrik groaned, hollering at the treetops, “Enough with the horse shit! Nobody’s got the patience for it!” He swatted his arm between Aire and me. “You’re hard for her. You’re wet for him. Neither of you know why, but so what? Pick up the pacing and rut each other already.”

We hadn’t even eaten yet. Needlessly to say, so began the most awkward supper of all time. The only chipper person in the bunch was the prick with the earring, whom I’d just begun to like.

Embers flew, the fire cackled like a witch, and some distant creature whistled at us.