It was my own medieval reenactment of the infamous walk of shame. But I didn’t give a crap who saw me. I was too buzzed by this high. What a night…

The girls practically pounced when I got back. “Ohhh, hmm, well look at that. Her Majesty has just-fucked hair. Her royal dress is rumpled and looks like it’s falling off, doesn’t it? Ann, what do you think Queen Jenna was doing last night?” Fiona, Caitlyn’s BFF said.

I rolled my eyes and dug into my duffel bag to pull out some proper twenty-first century clothing. “The Queen does not have to be accountable for her actions,” I sniffed haughtily.

Caitlyn twisted a strand of honey-colored hair around her index finger and studied me. “Girl, I spent a long time on your hair and makeup yesterday. You better spill what’s going on with you and Sir Hottie MacFine.”

I smiled. “Or else…?”

“Or else I’m going to take your crown, which I picked up off the ground last night when you went running after William, and I’ll give it to Doug. I’ll tell him you told me to give it to him as a favor.”

I raise my brow at her. “I know Roma curses, you know. I can make your toenails ache.”

She plopped onto my sleeping bag and lay back, folding her arms under her head. “Spill.”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Do you fuck and tell?” said Fiona.

I rolled my eyes. “Goddess, you are all so crude.”

A Cheshire-style grin spread across Caitlyn’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should she have asked if you make love and tell?”

My face flamed instantly, and they both shrieked and clapped their hands. Caitlyn sat up. “You did! Jeez, Jenna. People are going to hate you—and by people, I mean me. Do you know how many have been trying to crack that nut over the last two years?”

I raised my brow. “Interesting choice of imagery.”

“He’s totally going to win your duel for you because you put out,” she retorted.

If those words had come from anyone but Caitlyn or Ann, they would have pissed me off. But as I knew they were completely joking and meant nothing untoward, I merely stuck my tongue out at her.

“The duel’s in an hour. Are you going to give him your, um, best wishes beforehand?” She added air quotes, just to be extra obnoxious. “And what about a lady’s favor? Do you have a scarf or a ribbon or something?”

I hesitated as I was changing from my gown to my regular clothes. “That’s actually a good idea, to give him a favor.”

“Just give him your panties,” Fiona said, snickering.

“He already got into those last night,” Caitlyn cracked.

“Ladies!” I reprimanded as I pulled a brush through my knotted hair, scanning the small tent for something to give him. A hair ribbon? A handkerchief?

“Have you ever deflowered a virgin before?” Caitlyn asked.

“What makes you think William was a virgin?” I evaded.

Brock had been a virgin, too, so William had not been my first. But I’d been a virgin right along with Brock, as our first time together was our first time ever. It had taken place more than a decade ago, so I only remembered a lot of awkwardness and that it had been disappointing. Last night with William had been pretty darn good, actually. He may have been a virgin, but there was no doubt he’d done his research.

“What about a ribbon from the Maypole?” Ann said, pointing to the red one on the floor by my sleeping bag as I pulled on my jeans.

“Oh yes, I’ll take him that.”

“You don’t think he’ll want to ask you for it in front of everyone—like what Doug did last time?” Ann asked.

I shook my head, adjusting my clothes. “Nope. That’s not Wil.” I smiled at the thought.

“Well, off with you, then. Go wish your man luck!” Ann said.

I found him in a clearing at the edge of our encampment. He was warming up in his under armor padding—gambeson, it’s called. He continued to stretch his muscles and practice his swings even when I was pretty certain he’d seen me arrive. I assumed that this was all part of some routine that he’d established for warm-up, and he wasn’t about to interrupt that routine—not even for me. I was okay with that.

I patiently watched him work, and about ten minutes later he stopped and unscrewed a bottle of water to take a long drink. I walked up to him then. “Hi.”

His eyes flew to mine and then away. “Good morning,” he said with a small smile that made my heart zing just a little bit. Seeing him again after last night and all that had happened between us was thrilling. Like I couldn’t get enough air fast enough. I bit my lip, hoping he felt the same.

But it was highly unlikely that anything could have changed from the night before. So he likely did feel the same. He was constant, permanent. He’d told me last night that he loved me and my guess was that he probably didn’t see the need to repeat it. I’d have to clue him in that I liked to hear it anyway, whether or not he thought it worth repeating.

I smiled and took his free hand, twirling the red ribbon in my other hand. “Do you know what this is?” I said without preamble.

His eyes narrowed, taking it in. He removed the bottle from his mouth and squeezed my hand. Then he freed it in order to replace the cap. “It’s a ribbon from the Maypole,” he answered.

“Nope. Not today.”

He frowned, clearly confused. “It is a Maypole ribbon every day.”

“Today it’s much more than that. It’s my favor. And I choose to bestow it upon the worthiest knight I know.”

His gaze floated to the ribbon again, and his expression was so serious that I almost laughed. Without another word, he took up his sword and presented it to me, hilt first. Just as solemnly, I tied the ribbon around the grip, just below the cross-guard. He took the sword back and adjusted the ribbon. Then he hefted the sword to try it out.

He murmured in an almost reverential voice, “Thank you.”

“Kicking his ass will be all the thanks I need,” I said, grinning.

“There’s no kicking at these tournaments. It’s difficult to kick someone while wearing plated greaves.”

I laughed. “I meant it figuratively. You’ll be thanking me by winning soundly.”

His brow trembled. “But if I lose—”