“I’m not even sure why you’re here,” I tease Declan. “If you’re going to whine about having to visit Naralta’s National Chapel, you could have just stayed back at the palace.”

“And done what?” he asks, leaning back in the limousine. “Watched old men play tennis? I’d much rather be here, bothering you lot.”

“The palace does have television and internet,” I say. “And aren’t you in the guest chambers that are just loaded with video games? I’m pretty sure we’ve even got that new thing, the one where you wave it and stuff happens?”

Now my stupid brother Grayson laughs.

“That’s been out for ages, it’s not new anymore,” he says.

“You stay out of this,” I tell him, smoothing my respectable skirt over my knees.

Not that I feel particularly respectable around Declan. His offer is all I could think about last night, tossing and turning, my bed either too hot or too cold. When I finally fell asleep, I swear I was five minutes from calling Bianca and asking if I could borrow a vibrator.

Even though, given my history, I doubt it would work.

And even though I know that borrowing a sex toy is probably the grossest thing you could possibly do. She’d never have said yes.

“I swear she’s nineteen, not ninety-eight,” Grayson says to Declan, and I just sigh dramatically.

I’m trying not to be disappointed. I might have had a slight fantasy about him, in which it turned out we were the only two going to this cathedral for some reason, so in the back of the limo he slid his hand up my leg until it was under my skirt, kissed my neck as his thumb edged beneath my lace panties...

Yeah, I own lace panties, and yeah, I wore them today. I’m a virgin, not a nun.

“Aurora,” says Grayson.

“What?”

He grins.

“Jeez, I was just gonna ask you a question, you don’t have to bite my head off,” he says.

I roll my eyes. Even if he’s married with a baby, Grayson still pulls this big brother shit all the time, irritating me just the right amount until I snap, and then suddenly I’m the unreasonable one.

I keep my cool, reminding myself that it’s been this way since I can remember and it probably always will be. Hurray for family, right?

“What’s the question?” I ask, my tone perfectly reasonable.

“Are we going to St. Alice or St. Ingrid?”

“Seriously?”

“Look, Stefan was up all night last night, and he’s been really fussy lately, so I wanted to let Ella get some sleep, and I kinda forgot where it is we’re going today,” he explains.

On cue, Stefan in his car carrier fusses for exactly two seconds, then goes back to gurgling happily.

“We’re going to St. Alice.”

“Is she the battle nun?” Declan asks.

I just look at him. Not that I’m an expert on the various saints of the region, but I don’t know that there’s a battle nun among them.

“No, she’s the... other one,” I say.

I do happen to know the story of St. Alice, and I don’t particularly want to tell it to Declan, of all people. Not now.

“What other one?” He asks. Of course.

I sigh.

“The daughter of a noble family who didn’t want to get married?”

Blank stare. I sigh again, nervously twisting the hem of my skirt between my fingers.

“Alice was the only daughter of a noble family, and she was very dedicated to her religion,” I say. “Her father wanted her to get married, but due to said dedication, she was also a committed virgin. Because this was happening like fifteen hundred years ago, though, she didn’t really get much of a choice in the matter, and despite her numerous protests her father forced her to go through with it.”

“Okay,” Declan says, like he’s still waiting for the good part.

“Only when her new husband came into their bedchamber on their wedding night, he found her praying fervently in the middle of their bed for God to allow her to keep her vows of virginity. He wasn’t the nicest guy, so he was pretty much about to rape her, until God answered her prayers and turned her into a puddle. Now there’s a spring where their marital chamber allegedly was, and Alice got to die a virgin.”

Lucky her, I think sarcastically. Not that marrying someone you don’t want to sounds great, either, but I think I’d take that over becoming a puddle.

“Sounds like he was a lousy lover,” Declan says, leaning back in his seat.

The limo slows, turning, and then suddenly the street gets bumpy. I glance out the window: cobblestones, so we must be close.

“He should have gone a little slower, obviously. Shown her some pleasure first instead of trying to just jump in there. Makes a world of difference.”

Sitting next to him, Grayson growls, glowering. His eyes flash in warning, and Declan casually crosses his arms in front of himself.

“You disagree?” Declan asks him, but Grayson just keeps on glaring.

“Oh, come on,” Declan says. “Stefan’s way too young to understand, and I didn’t even use any dirty words.”

The limo stops. I can’t get out fast enough, gulping in the fresh air of the early spring day. Anything to get away from telling Declan about famous virgins and then having my brother snap at him.

“Just fucking behave yourself,” I hear Grayson mutter.

Please don’t, I think.