Page 153 of Burn

Briar swallowed and replied,Minstrel.

She had told me of her plan to repay Cadence and Eliot for staying by her side in The Lost Treehouses. But whilst they didn’t hold Briar in debt, she had aimed to give her friends something in return. Their new ranks granted them the opportunity to call both Seasons home.

At Nicu’s request, Eliot retrieved his lute from the corner and strummed a melody. My son’s voice sprang across the hall, his lilting tenor causing more than one jaw to drop, with everyone mesmerized by his singing.

Afterward, the occupants applauded. To which Nicu did something uncharacteristic. A bashful pink drenched his cheeks, so that he rushed over to me and buried his face in my shoulder.

Chuckling, I rubbed his back and shrugged at the amused group. “Never say this jester ever pampered his son with vanity.”

As we tucked into our meal, Posy slanted her head. “The lines he was singing. I recognized the words, but I can’t say from where.”

Absently, Cadence waved her fork around while chewing. “It was yesterday’s conversation with him. When Nicu asked why the leaves change color in Autumn.”

“That’s right,” Vale exclaimed, then said to Nicu, “You have quite a memory, laddie.”

“The Royal son remembers everything,” Aire said. Swinging his head to Nicu, who’d migrated from my side to Briar’s lap, the knight lifted a chalice to his lips. “Is that not right, Young Sir?”

Like his father, it took very little prodding. Eagerly, Nicu nodded. And then a quote bounced off his tongue before Briar could thrust a palm over his mouth.

“Bend farther, Sweet Thorn,”he recited verbatim.“Show me how deep you can take it.”

Every head in the room whipped up. Aire hacked on the remnants of his drink. Cadence lurched forward and spit out her coffee. At the same time, Briar’s fork clattered to her plate.

From over Nicu’s shoulder, the princess gawked across the table at me. Her mortified eyes ballooned, and her complexion looked as though a pomegranate had exploded in her face.

Shit. I’d groaned those words a few nights ago whilst I’d been lunging my cock into Briar. We had thought Nicu was asleep, but because my chambers adjoined his through the bathroom, my son must have awakened and heard us slamming up against the wall. Thank fuck, he hadn’t followed the ribbon garland and walked in. If I had to guess, Nicu had merely disregarded the words, not realizing what was happening, and fell back into dreams.

I’d told Briar before that she was a loud minx. I hadn’t been exaggerating.

Avalea clenched her eyes shut and massaged her temples. The ladies and Eliot compressed their mouths, clogging the hysterics. Aire was Aire, still coughing on his wine, wheezing as though someone had poured acid down his gullet.

Once he recovered, silence descended. Then everyone burst into laughter. I threw my head back, guffaws booming from my mouth. And despite herself, Briar’s mouth collapsed into something resembling sheepish humor.

The only one who didn’t participate was Aire, who crossed his arms as though we’d lost all fucking sense.

Kissing the top of Nicu’s head, Briar’s gaze clung to mine and stayed there for the rest of the meal.

After everyone left and Avalea took Nicu for a stroll in the orchard—with half a dozen soldiers flanking them—Briar and I remained, our attention fixed to one another. Separated by the dining table, neither of us moved, the tension straining from her seat to mine.

Briar leveled me with a look of feigned disapproval. “I blame you for that quote.”

“By that logic, it also means you get to punish me,” I replied smoothly.

“You know.” She drew her finger back and forth across the polished surface. “At the rate we’re going, it’s fortunate we haven’t been caught in a compromising position yet. We came close behind the shed, and eventually our luck shall run out. I propose we contain ourselves for at least the next twenty-four hours. Consider it a challenge.” Her lashes fluttered. “I know you like those.”

“Hmm.” I slid my dagger from the harness at my hip. Tapping the hilt against the furnishing, I pretended to give her idea some thought. “Already worn out, are you? We haven’t been that rowdy. Not by a jester’s standards.” My voice lowered to a sultry pitch. “I have far to go with you yet, sweeting.”

“I beg your pardon, sir. But would you like me to tally the number of chambers we’ve christened thus far?”

“Please,” I boasted. “I can count and don’t need you to—”

“Or the number of surfaces perhaps?”

“That isn’t necess—”

“Maybe I should tally the positions you’ve had me in as well.”

“Briar—”

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