He plucks it out then tosses it back onto the platter. “Your maturity level is alarming, Syb.”
She raises her chin and smirks, while I blink as though someone blew dust into my face.
When I finally manage to bang my stein down, I spring out of my chair and rush around the table to embrace my surreptitious friend. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Once Phoebus and I managed to make you creep out of your head. There was so much happening in there”—she taps my forehead gently—“that I didn’t want to load it with more.”
“Sorry for being so focused on myself.” I kiss her cheek, then hug her to me once more. “I’m so happy for you.” I suddenly pull away. “You’re happy, right?” I cannot imagine that bringing a child into the world was planned.
“Unexpectedly so.” She plumps up her breasts. “I mean, look at my rack. And my sex drive . . .” She waggles her brows. “Off. The. Charts.”
“How about we stay off the subject of sex drives for those of us with blue nether regions?” Phoebus mumbles, glancing toward the bar at the dark-skinned Crow who said he was flattered but not in the right headspace for a relationship. “I still cannot believe he turned down no-strings-attached sex.”
Sybille takes a branch and twirls it. “Pheebs, honey, you’d come with many strings. Even I can see them.”
Though being away was no fault of mine, I hate that I’ve missed so much. A surprise pregnancy? Unrequited love?
I reach out and take Phoebus’s hand then Sybille’s and squeeze them so tight that I drag their attention back to me. “I’ve missed you two”—my voice grows so thick that I can hardly push out the end of my sentence—“so damn much.”
My effusion puts a shimmer in my friends’ eyes.
Phoebus sniffles loudly. After blotting his eyes on his sky-blue shirtsleeve, he pops out words that propel us out of our little moment.
Unsure I heard him correctly, I repeat his question slowly, “Did Meriam mention Shabbins don’t menstruate?”
“Well, did she?”
I gape at my friend because one,what? And two . . . “This may come as a surprise, but Meriam and I did not discuss our monthlies—or lack thereof—during our imprisonment.” After I’ve somewhat recovered from the shock of learning I will never bleed again, from there, I ask, “How do you know?”
“Books. When one isn’t having much sex, one has much time to read.” His tragic tone draws a smirk to Sybille’s lips.
“Apparentlywoe is meis contagious.” She stands. “I better get away before I’m contaminated.” She grabs the empty jug of wine. “Kidding. Be right back. Just need to detour by the ladies’ room because, though pea-sized, my newest tenant feels like six gold ingots have been heaped onto my bladder.”
My lips finally adopt another shape than open-mouthed shock, and I laugh.
“Wow.Finally. We were worried Meriam forced you to give up your sense of humor to unlock your magic. You know, like a payment of sorts. I mean, we were ready to remain your friends, becauseblood magic.” She winks. “But we may have invited you to hang less.”
I bark out another laugh and shake my head. “I’ll have you both know no trade was required. My sense of humor just needed a little dusting off after spending so much time underground. Didn’t have many people to be ridiculous with.”
The amused glint in Sybille’s eyes dampens.
“Nope. I don’t want pity.” I shake my head. “Besides, I had somenot so terribletimes down there.” I give those better moments room to grow and cast shadows over thenot so goodones.
Phoebus sucks in a breath. “Were we almost replaced with Justus and Meriam?”
“Oh, definitely not. Those two have a very limited repertoire of jokes.”
Phoebus shrugs, “She transformed your mother into your favorite animal, so she must have a little sense of humor, piccolo serpens.”
As I roll my eyes, Sybille smacks her chest with her palm. “Thank the Cauldron. Phoebus and I were genuinely worried. It’s not every day you get to be besties with a queen.”
“I’m not yetthat.”
Phoebus gives my hand a squeeze before letting go to snatch his wine goblet. “Sweets, you’re the fucking Princess of Shabbe and the king’s mate. You do realize it’s a question of seconds before Lorcan gets on one smoky knee and presents you with—” A glare from Syb makes him cough. “With his deepest love,” he ends up saying.
“Okay . . . what the underworld are you two not telling me?”
“Nothing,” they say in unison. Then Syb presses her hand into her abdomen and reiterates, rather loudly, that she will wet herself if she doesn’t hurry.
