Page 171 of Dukes of Peril

Story watches them go, head shaking. “They’re going to be menaces with those brooms, aren’t they?”

I give her a weary look. “You have no idea. Last night, I had to referee a confusingly violent round of competitive gift wrapping.”

Her head tilts curiously. “Who won?”

This is an easy answer. “I did.”

She barks a laugh, and a few minutes later, we’re next to a roaring fire pit, bundled in blankets and sipping spiked hot chocolate. I have a thought that this isn’t too bad for a Christmas, and it reminds me of the last two, both spent under Nick Bruin’s intense, watching gaze, and somehow even those were better than the Christmases back home in North Side.

Loud voices erupt from across the yard and I cringe. “Do you think it’s really okay for them to be left alone together?”

“We’ll find out.” She raises her mug, her eyes sparkling in the firelight. “We should make a toast.”

Perking up, I wonder, “To what?”

“Girls who are fucking three guys? Being Queens?” Some of the mirth fades from her eyes. “Being a member of the shitty parent club?”

I hold up my mug and clink it to hers. “To all of that.” The drink burns going down, less from the heat and more from the liquor.

“How are you doing?” she asks, pinning me with a reluctant look. “Really.”

Shrugging, I don’t really need to think about it. “Better.”

Something reluctant pops up in her eyes. “When Daniel died, Killian felt… complicated. I gave him some really profound wisdom that I’m way too buzzed to remember, but I think it went something like this.” She holds my stare, face growing serious. “It’s okay to grieve for people who don’t deserve it–to grieve the people they could have been.”

I feel my face soften. She’s too good for this town. “I’m okay, Story. The truth is, I grieved my idea of who my father could’ve been a long time ago. He was already dead to me.”

She searches my face, but finding no thread of insincerity, she raises her glass. “Then we’ll toast to new beginnings.”

I touch my cup to hers, grinning. “To new beginnings.”

“Oh, my god,” she suddenly says, back straightening. “Speaking of, did you hear about the Princess?”

“No.” We’ve been firmly cocooned in our bubble since moving back in the tower. “Everything okay with the baby?”

“As far as I know, the baby is healthy,” she says, “but thereisa problem.”

I frown. “What kind of problem?”

Story leans in with a conspiratorial smirk. “It’s not any of the Princes’.”

My jaw drops. “What? Holy shit.”

“Right?” She looks as shocked as I feel.

“How do they even know?” I wonder, since the Princess is barely showing.

Waving her hand, Story explains, “Auggie told me that it’s standard protocol that once the Princess reaches nine weeks, they perform a DNA test on the baby.” She leans forward, letting her fingers warm up. “Turns out, Piper had a boyfriend before she became Princess. Non-frat. They kept hooking up this whole time, which–as I’m sure you know–is a clear violation of the Psi Nu covenants.”

“Oh,” I reply, blinking. “That’s, like… a contract?”

“Well, yeah,” Story leans back, taking another sip. She notices my baffled expression. “Wait, you didn’t sign a contract to be the Dukes’ house girl?”

“No,” I say, wondering if that’s strange. The Counts don’t do it–that much I know. But even if the Dukes did, I came to them as a prize. A captive. There’s no contract for that. “But I guess everyone’s arrangement is different,” I offer. She nods, leaving it at that. “The Princes must be furious.”

She shakes her head. “Oh, not this time. From what Killian hears, they knew she was cheating and were okay with it, because they’d been fucking around, too.”

This can only mean one thing. “So Ashby is going to assign new Princes.” It’s the rule of their house. If they don’t produce an heir by the three-month mark, they get the boot. It’s why they fuck so doggedly, desperate to get a baby into her before the deadline comes and reduces them back to mediocrity.

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