Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (75 page)

“Comin’ right up,” Duchess Danyel says, and nods in
my direction. “’Scuse me milady, but you might wanna take that
there dress off before it gives you a rash. An’ I’m sure Syr
Phillip here will be
more
than happy to get you out of it!”
Duchess Danyel gives Syr Phillip a not-so-subtle wink and laughs
again.

“We’re working on that, Your Grace,” Syr Phillip
says before I can get too embarrassed. “Just the food for now, if
you please.”

“You betcha.” Duchess Danyel hands us a Styrofoam
carton, napkins, and plastic forks along with the Diet Cokes.
“That’ll be four-fifty, Syr Phillip. Reg’lar price is six bucks,
but as a duchess I’m obligated to give the Middle Kingdom Champion
a discount.”

Syr Phillip fumbles some cash out of a pouch hanging
from his belt. “Thank you, Your Grace. Now if you’ll just excuse
us—“

“Remember what I said, milady!” Duchess Danyel calls
after us. “Syr Phillip
loves
to get the ladies out of their
dresses!”

Syr Phillip has gone beet red. I don’t know whether
to laugh or be mortified.

“You’ll have to excuse Duchess Danyel,” Syr Phillip
finally says. “She’s known me since I was a teenager, and she likes
to ahhh, make fun of me.”

“I see,” I say, edging away from him a little.

“Please don’t take what she says about me ‘getting
the ladies out of their dresses’ seriously,” Syr Phillip says, a
desperate edge to his voice. “There was a time in my youth when I
was a little. . .overenthusiastic towards the ladies. But now that
I’m older, and knighted, it’s my duty to be chivalrous at all
times. I hope you don’t think that my suggestion that you change
your dress is—“

I turn and look at Syr Phillip and notice that he
seems almost near tears.

“Is what?” I ask.

“Is ahhh,
suggestive
in any way. I certainly
don’t mean you any disrespect—“

“Of course not,” I say, taking one of Syr Phillip’s
gauntleted hands. “You’ve been a true gentleman to me all
morning.”

Syr Phillip looks relieved. “Duchess Danyel is from
the ‘old school’ of SCA too. She’s been in since the early
seventies and still likes to drink barrels of mead and revel until
the wee hours. She’s been queen of the Middle Kingdom twice and of
the East Kingdom once—all more than twenty years ago. Back when I
was younger, just after my sister died, she was somewhat of a
surrogate mother to me, even if she wasn’t necessarily a good role
model where chivalry is concerned.”

“She certainly seems—rambunctious,” I say.

“Oh, Duchess Danyel is a pistol, that’s for sure.
She had a brief affair with my father just after my mother died. My
father always used to say that the affair was so hot and heavy it
gave him a heart attack—literally.”

I giggle again, despite myself. “Oh, I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to laugh at your father having a heart attack. It just
seems—well, Duchess Danyel seems like she could give practically
anyone
a heart attack.”

We sit down at a battered picnic table to eat.
“You’re probably right on that score,” Syr Phillip says, spreading
a paper napkin over the dirty wooden tabletop. “Did you know that
she has served as Queen Consort with three
different
kings?
Not a one of them her husband? I think that’s an SCA record. I
don’t think her mundane husband is even
in
the SCA.”

“How does someone get to be queen with somebody
other than her husband?” I ask, taking a bite of my meat pie, which
tastes sort of like a clove-flavored hamburger. “How does somebody
get to be queen or a duchess at all? Does that have something to do
with that whole giving-a-favor thing?”

“Actually, yes, that’s it exactly,” Syr Phillip
pulls up the cuff of his gauntlet to reveal a watch, which he taps
impatiently. “But we can talk more about that later. I apologize if
I sound dismissive, Lisa, but it seems I’ve lost track of the time.
I need to finish eating and skedaddle, because I’m due back in the
bear pit—that’s what we call the fighting ring in SCA—in fifteen
minutes.”

“Do you need me to go with you? I mean, since I’m
like your—
lady
for the day and everything?”

“No, take your time eating. Feel free to stroll
around the grounds to check things out. I’ll see if I can get a
message to my seamstress friend to find you, get you a new dress
and charge it to me. Just be sure you’re back to the gym by three
o’clock—that’s the final round, for the tournament title.” With
that, Syr Phillip gobbles up his slice of meat pie, guzzles his
Diet Coke, and takes off toward the gymnasium for his next bear-pit
battle—which will most likely be forfeited to him anyway.

I savor the remains of my meat pie and sip my Diet
Coke while I try to understand everything that’s happened to me so
far this morning. I hope Syr Phillip’s seamstress friend finds me
soon—my corset rash has reached incendiary level. Just as I reach
around to scratch it, I feel a strong jab on my right shoulder.

“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
seethes a familiar voice. I turn around to find Pegeen/Pegonia,
resplendent in her heavy fur-trimmed cloak and gown of green and
red velvet despite the heat of the day. She’s grinding her teeth
and her face has turned a shade that matches her gown. “I’ve been
looking all over for you. We need to talk. Now.”

Chapter
5

“What the hell is going on, Lisa?” Pegeen/Pegonia
hisses, stamping her velvet-slippered foot on the dewy grass of the
football field sidelines.

“What the hell is going on with what?”

“You know what I mean,” Pegeen/Pegonia snaps.
“What’s going on with you and Syr Phillip? An hour ago you give him
a torn piece of polyester as a favor, and now rumor has it you two
are practically married. I even heard he’s going to fight for you
at Crown Tournament—“

“Huh? Fight for me at Crown Tournament? What the
hell does that mean? And what’s Crown Tournament?”

Pegeen/Pegonia stamps her foot again. “Don’t you
play dumb with me, Lees. I know you better than that.”

I bite my tongue before responding. “Pegeen, pardon
me, but things have been happening pretty fast here today.”
Too
fast, in fact. “I’ve barely had enough time to eat
lunch, let alone grasp the entire SCA social order.”

Pegeen rolls her eyes. “Well, allow me to enlighten
you, Lees. Pretty much everyone here at the Blood and Roses
Tournament can see that you’ve practically got the boy eating out
of your hand. Do you know how many women absolutely
hate
you
now? And hate
me
, for bringing you here?”

“Pegeen, I—“

“
Pegonia
. At SCA events you are to address me
as Pegonia.”

“All right,
Pegonia.
I haven’t the slightest
idea what you’re talking about. I don’t even know anybody here
besides you—and now, Syr Phillip—so I really don’t see how anyone
can hate me when I only know two people at the whole stinking
event.”

Pegeen/Pegonia sighs, exasperated. “I will have
you
know that I have spent the past half an hour apologizing
to everyone for you. I feel responsible for what’s happened, since
I brought you here.”

“Pegeen—“

“
Pegonia.”

“Whatever. Pegonia, I still don’t get what the big
deal is. I even heard you shout ‘You go girl’ back in the gym when
I gave Syr Phillip my favor.”

“Well, that was before I realized how mad it would
make everybody.” Pegeen/Pegonia twists a tie from her cloak around
and around her little finger until it turns blue.

“Who’s
everybody
?” I ask, guzzling the dregs
of my Diet Coke.

“Well, pretty much every single SCA female within a
two-hundred-mile radius, that’s who.”

“Including you?”

“Well, not at first,” Pegeen/Pegonia admits
sheepishly. “At first I was kind of happy for you. I mean, Syr
Phillip is
mondo
hot and all, and I know you’ve been in kind
of a big need for a date lately—“

“Pegeen—“

“
Pegonia
, please. I even bragged to some
people about how you managed to get a
knight
to carry your
favor less than two hours after you showed up at your first event.
That’s got to be an SCA record—jeez. I mean, I was pretty proud of
you Lisa. At first. But—“

“But what?”

“Well, that’s kind of when the trouble started.
First off, those ladies you beat out in the favor-giving contest
are not exactly thrilled by the fact they lost to a clueless newbie
whose favor was nothing but a torn polyester
rag
. I mean,
some of those ladies have worked for
months
embroidering
their favors, with all kinds of fancy, elaborate stitches, in hopes
that some handsome fighter or other would be proud to carry it for
them. And you—well, you didn’t do anything except rip something off
your dress. Your
ugly
dress—no offense—which isn’t even
yours. The Gold Key people are pretty mad about that, by the way.
You’re going to have to pay for the dress.”

“Pay? For
this
dress? It’s giving me a rash,
you know. My whole backside is turning into a science experiment.
They should pay
me
for having to wear it.”

Pegeen wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“Pegeen—I mean,
Pegonia
, listen. There’s
something else about this dress,
and
Syr Phillip, that you
don’t know—“

Pegeen/Pegonia is having none of it. “Do you know
how hard it is for SCA women to get a man to carry their favor?”
She is near tears. “Do you realize that not all of the men in the
SCA are fighters, let alone knights? Do you know how
competitive
it is for ladies just to get dates with the
fighters?
Do you know that the odds of a newbie landing a
knight at her
first event
are roughly equivalent to winning
the lottery? Do you
realize
how much you have upset the
whole SCA social balance here?”

“No, not really, Pegeen. I don’t know anything about
how the SCA works. You just dragged me here this morning—forcibly,
I might add.”

Pegeen isn’t listening. “What the hell did you do to
Syr Phillip to get him practically worshipping the ground you walk
on within an hour of meeting him, anyway? All the single women at
the Blood and Roses Tournament, if not the entire Middle Kingdom,
are dying to know your secret. Do you realize how rare a
good-looking, young, and
single
knight is in the SCA? Most
of the knights are over 40, fat, and married—either that or they’re
ugly. That makes Syr Phillip practically the catch of the century.
And do you realize how many women have been practically
throwing
themselves at Syr Phillip ever since he broke up
with his last girlfriend two months ago? Throwing themselves,
sewing favors, giving gifts, presenting who-knows-what kinds of
offers, and he has ignored them all? That is, until
you
showed up.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yep. And then he takes just one look at you and
poof! Every other female within a two-hundred-mile radius might as
well not exist. And mind you, this is despite the fact that Syr
Phillip has had quite a reputation for being a ladies’ man in the
past. You made a lot of enemies today, Lisa. A
lot.
I’d be
your enemy too, only I don’t really go in for knights myself.
They’re bound by too many rules of chivalry and stuff, and you know
how I feel about rules. That’s why I go for plain ol’
fighters—they’re more down to earth—“

“You’re rambling, Pegeen.”

“
Pegonia.
Anyway, Lisa, just so you know, you
aren’t going to find a whole lot of friendly faces here at the
tournament today. And of course, that means I can’t be seen with
you. So, you’ll of
course
understand that I have to ditch
you, at least until we go to the feast site tonight. I hope that’s
OK with you.”

“Fine,” I hiss. “Whatever.”

“Good,” Pegeen/Pegonia says, adjusting her towering
headdress higher up on her forehead. “But before I
do
ditch
you, answer me this. You know, in the spirit of the longtime best
girlfriends that we are. What
did
you do to Syr Phillip? Did
you give him some good head when nobody was looking? Do you give
fabulous back massages? Did you flash him in the hallway?
What?”

“You know, you can be really crude sometimes,
Pegeen.”

Pegeen/Pegonia just shrugs. “You didn’t answer my
question.”

I take a deep breath. “He said I remind him of his
sister. His
dead
sister.”

Pegeen/Pegonia’s eyes nearly pop out of her skull.
“Are you serious?”

“Yep. He even said his sister wore this same dress
I’m wearing at
her
first event about twenty years ago, and
when he saw me wearing it and saw how much I look like his dead
sister, he thought he absolutely had to carry my favor. Like it was
some kind of cosmic karma or the dead visiting from beyond the
grave or something.”

Pegeen/Pegonia shudders and shakes her head. “Fuck,”
she whispers.

“What?”

“Lisa, I’m really sorry about how I just went off on
you—had I known, I never would have taken sides with all those
other ladies. It’s obvious you had no control over what
happened.”

“Well,
duh
!” I toss my empty pop can and
shepherd’s pie carton in a nearby trash can and get up to leave. I
don’t think I can take much more of Pegeen right now, best friend
or no best friend.

“Lisa, wait.” Pegeen beckons for me to come back,
and reluctantly, I go to stand beside her. Pegeen/Pegonia leans in
close and whispers, “Did he tell you how his sister died?”

“He said she died in a car accident. I think he said
something about his mom being dead, too.”

“Shit, that’s what I thought,” Pegeen shakes her
head again, and almost knocks off her headdress. “Listen. I don’t
know for sure, but I’ve heard some rumors about how one of the
reasons Syr Phillip got made a knight so young was because his mom
and his sister got killed at the Pennsic War, and that he fights to
avenge their honor or something.”