Page 174 of Dukes of Peril

Verity’s eyes widen, snatching the paper back. “God, no. She’ll either be completely furious or super excited. I don’t think I’ll like either option.”

I think about my first Friday Night Fury as Duchess, when Verity asked me what I wanted to wear. It had been the first time anyone had ever asked me for my opinion. I’d been so overwhelmed and confused. She has that look on her face now. “Well,” I say, “what do you want to do?”

She worries her lip between her teeth, staring around the lounge. “I don’t know, Lavinia. I’ve been so…aimlessthese last six months. All those years of prepping to be the Duchess, and it isn’t even an option anymore.”

My heart sinks. “I’m sorry.”

She looks up, a smile touching her lips. “Don’t be sorry. You’re an amazing Queen, and I’m so glad it was you. I just…” She looks at the invitation again. “I don’t know what’s next for me, but being humiliated by a group of Princes doesn’t make the list.” But then her eyes rise, locking with mine, and I see it. A flicker of temptation. “Right?”

There’s a bang on the door. “Vinny–you’re up.”

“Listen,” I say, taking out my earrings, “don’t do anything yet. Don’t tell your mom or RSVP. We can meet tomorrow, and I’ll help you work it out, okay?” It’s the least I can do. Verity has helped me through enough crises these last few months that I owe her.

“Okay.” Still looking a little overwhelmed, she tucks the invitation back in the envelope and looks me up and down. “Now, go kick some Lady ass.”

Our palms meet in a high-five as I exit the lounge.

“Ow,”I groan as I reach for the salt shaker, my breast aching. It’s been twelve hours, and it still hurts like a bitch. I give it a surly rub as I narrow my eyes at Story. “I can’t believe you slapped my tit.Twice.”

Frowning into her pancakes, she shifts uncomfortably. “Shove it, Lucia. You kneed me in my vag.”

We’re at the diner, which is on the boundary lines between North Side, West End, and East End. Not the best locale for Story, who’s far enough from South Side that her Lords would probably shit bricks.

“And anyway,” she adds, eyes hardening, “you won.”

Damn right, I did. “It doesn’t feel like it.” We’re both bruised and sore today. In truth, the match was so close that it had to be called by adding up our points. My knee to the vag put me over the top. However, “To the victor go the spoils.” I smirk, holding up my milkshake.

Smirking back, she touches her mug of coffee to my glass. “To the loser go the amazing consolation sex. I’m not mad.”

Just then the bell above the door chimes, drawing our eyes to the redhead who enters, and my belly flutters uncertainly.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” I whisper, smiling tightly when Verity catches my eye.

Story, however, disagrees. “We make our pitch, and she makes the move. Give her a choice, Lav. It’s more than you got.”

I toss Story an unamused look. “You’re such a dirty bitch.” She blows me a kiss just as Verity approaches, dropping onto the bench next to me.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she says, looking harried. “It was noon, and the bells…”

I slap a hand over my face. “Shit!” I’d completely forgotten.

Sy and I worked for two weeks tweaking the strike chain to make it only chime at noon and midnight. The West Enders weren’t happy about it. The bells ringing out over our corner of the city had everyone excited and enthralled. But it just wasn’t tenable. A week into the bells going off at the top of every hour had the four of us exhausted and frayed, not to mention poor Archie who spent every second on edge, awaiting the next assault.

Now that they only chime twice a day, people come out to appreciate them fully, clogging up the streets.

Verity pats my hand. “It’s okay. I actually really like the bells, and the novelty will wear off soon.” She shifts her attention to Story, thrusting out a hand. “Hey, I’m–”

“Verity Sinclaire!” Story gives her hand an eager shake. “Lavinia has told me so much about you. It’s really great, you know? When I became Lady, every girl in South Side hated me. I couldn’t find a friend anywhere.” She gives a small, self-deprecating laugh, but Verity’s eyes sadden.

“That’s terrible.”

Story nods, cutting into her pancakes. “It’s okay, though. I found Lavinia, and she’s… well, nice isn’t quite the word.” She wriggles, shooting me a glare.

“Oh, please,” I demand, poking at my milkshake. “Stop pretending your vag hurts because of my knee and not all that fantastic loser sex you got at the end of the night.”

Her jaw drops in outrage. “How dare you. My Lords are gentle creatures with nothing but tenderness for my Lady parts.” But even she can’t keep a straight face, cracking up at the look I give her.

“Wow.” Verity looks between us, flushing. “I can’t believe I’m having lunch with two Queens. And you’re not plotting to kill each other.”

---