The living room smelled faintly of wine and warm tortillas, the pillows scattered across the floor forming a cozy circle around the coffee table. Tacos and mini cakes were dotted along the surface, each one a tiny, sugar-topped promise of indulgence. Blueberry wine clinked in glasses, casting a purple sheen across the girls’ laughing faces.

“Here’s to Lyra!” Saraya toasted, lifting her glass. “Our bride-to-be. May you survive the next couple hours with your dignity intact.”

Lyra laughed, curling her fingers around her own glass. “I’ll try, but I make no promises.”

One by one, the girls presented their gifts. Saraya handed over a neatly wrapped package. “For your wedding day,” she said smiling.

Lyra peeled back the paper to reveal a white lace bra and panty set, accompanied by delicate thigh-highs. Her cheeks warmed. “Oh, wow. This is… um… perfect,” she murmured.

Lexi bounced forward, handing her own gift with a mischievous grin. “For your wedding night, of course.” Lyra unwrapped it to find a silky purple nightie and a matching robe. She held it up, imagining the feel of the fabric against her skin.

Finally, Kenyata nudged forward. “For… well, adventures,” she said, her voice sly. Lyra opened the book, eyes scanning the playful, cheeky ideas designed for couples both in and out of the bedroom.

The wine, the gifts, the laughter—they all blended into a bubble of warmth, teasing, and camaraderie. Lyra sank back onto her pillow, feeling simultaneously giddy and slightly nervous, aware that this party would be far more revealing than any other she’d attended.

Kenyata leaned back slightly, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “In Majiri tradition,” she began, voice full of mock solemnity, “we play a game called Hotseat at bachelorette parties. Each guest gets to ask you two questions. One you answer truthfully, the other… not so much. Then we all guess which is which, and finally, you reveal the truth.”

Lyra blinked, then grinned, rolling her shoulders as if accepting a challenge. “Well, if it’s a tradition, I suppose I’m in.”

Lexi squealed, practically bouncing on her pillow. “I love this! I can’t wait!”

Saraya chuckled, topping off their glasses of blueberry wine. “Go easy on her, girls,” she warned, a smile tugging at her lips.

“As if,” Kenyata replied with a laugh, and the others joined her, the sound of their amusement filling the cozy living room.

Lyra leaned back on her pillow, pretending to brace herself, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her excitement. Alright then, she thought. Let’s see what kind of trouble you’re going to get me into.

Lexi says “Me first, okay ... .Hassian, small medium or large? And, does he go down?”

Lyra’s mouth drops open. “Wow, Lexi! No warm-up at all, huh? I’m going to need—like—size parameters before I even try to answer that.”

Kenyatta says, “Under 5 small, 5 to 7 average–medium, over 7 large.”

The girls all break out in giggles.

“Well” Lyra ponders for a moment, “large and I guess no he don’t go down”

Expecting laughter, Lyra freezes—silence.

“What?” she asks.

“Wow, Lyra! You’ve got a sexy-ass expert hunter—large and does the complete job! What’s your secret?” Saraya grins.

Lyra smirks. “Always pet their plumehound.”

The girls explode in laughter. Kenyata rises onto her knees, ready to ask her questions.

“Alright, question one—Who moans more during… you know?” (eyebrow wiggle, girls snicker)

“Question two—What’s his favorite spot to be kissed… everywhere counts?”

Lyra flushes bright red, biting her lip as the girls giggle and whisper among themselves. She answers confidently, one truth, one lie (deciding which is which), and the girls start guessing.

Lyra’s cheeks still burned from Kenyata’s questions. “He moans way more than me,” she said, “and he loves for me to kiss his neck.”

The girls huddled, whispering and exchanging sly looks. Kenyata leaned back and smirked. “I believe that—you moan more, and he does love it when you kiss his neck.”

Lyra paused dramatically, letting the tension build, then burst out laughing. “Correct! I moan a lot, but he talks—and he’ll do anything for me if I kiss his neck.”

The girls laughed, and Saraya raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Hassian talks? Dirty talk?”

Lyra chuckled, shaking her head. “I never said dirty. But once in a while, he’ll throw something in there that surprises me.”

A knock at the door made them jump. Lexi squealed. “He got away from them.

Lyra rose, smoothing her hair and smiling. “Hassian doesn’t knock—he lives here.” She opened the door to find Sifuu standing there.

“Can I come in? I just left the most boring bachelor party of all time,” Sifuu announced, a playful glint in her eye.

“Of course, mother,” Lyra said, stepping aside and handing her a glass of blueberry wine. “We’re playing Hotseat.”

Sifuu took the wine with a sly smile, twirling it in the glass. “Whose turn is it?” she asked, eyeing the group with amusement.

Saraya straightened, a sly grin on her face. “I’m the last to go. I think I’ll adjust my questions since the groom’s mother is present.”

“Don’t mind me,” Sifuu said, laughter in her voice as she crunched into a taco. “I’m here for the wine.”

Saraya chuckled and leaned forward. “Question one: who initiates most often? Question two: does he cuddle or go to sleep after?”

Sifuu raised an eyebrow, eyes sparkling. “He initiates, right? I can see him as a secret… horn dog.” She squealed through a bite of taco.

Lyra’s face turned beet red. “I initiate more often, and yes—he always cuddles.”

“Number one is a lie!” Saraya boomed.

“It better be,” Sifuu said through a mouthful of taco, making everyone laugh.

Lyra grinned. “Yes, he initiates more often—he says he can’t get enough of me. And he always cuddles, plays with my hair, kisses me, talks to me. Honestly, I usually fall asleep before him.”

Saraya and Kenyata exchanged simultaneous “aww”s, while Lexi groaned dramatically. “Oh, she’s so in love, I’m going to throw up!”

Sifuu set her empty plate down, lifted her wine glass, and swirled the last drops lazily. “Mother’s turn,” she announced with a grin that promised mischief.

The living room glowed warm with candlelight, the air hazy with the sweet tang of blueberry wine and the spicy scent of tacos spread across the low table. The girls lounged on a scatter of pillows, cheeks flushed from drink and laughter, when Sifuu leaned back against the couch with a smirk and asked, “When was your first kiss? Did Hassian really stick to all the traditional mess or did he flake out? Question two, who initiated the first time you had sex?”

Lyra’s hand flew to her mouth, her face going crimson. “I can’t answer that question for my almost mother-in-law.”

Sifuu waved a dismissive hand, already reaching for another taco. “What? I went easy on you, girlypop. You should hear the questions I normally ask at these things.”

Lyra groaned but surrendered. “Okay, fine. Yes, he stuck to the courtship. Our first kiss was right after we exchanged pins. And…who says we’ve had sex?”

The group erupted into laughter.

“Well, if you haven’t, I’m going to need to have a talk with both of you,” Sifuu fired back, eyes glinting as she bit into her taco.

Lyra pointed a finger at her, laughing helplessly. “You’re impossible. Fine. The first kiss was after the pins, and yes—he initiated our first time.”

Lexi gasped dramatically. “Was it the same night?”

“Nope.” Lyra crossed her arms. “I answered all the questions. I’m done.”

“Answer that one!” Kenyata insisted, leaning forward with predatory glee.

“I know that answer,” Sifuu said smoothly, sipping her wine.

The room went still. Lexi turned to her, wide-eyed. “Well? Did they?”

Sifuu licked a trace of wine from her lip, smug as a palcat with cream. “No. It wasn’t until a week or so later.”

Kenyata blinked. “What?!”

All eyes turned back to Lyra, whose mouth hung open in shock. “How do you know that?”

Sifuu laughed, full-bodied and wicked. “Mothers have their ways… Okay, fine, I pestered him until he admitted it. Told him he needed to get on it.”

Lyra buried her face in her hands. “Oh my stars, this conversation is not happening.”

“That’s what he said” Sifuu laughed.

Saraya seized the chance to pile on, her grin wicked. “So how did he initiate it?”

Lyra’s head shot up. “Saraya! Not you too.”

“You might as well tell us the entire story,” Kenyata teased.

Lyra squeaked. “What?”

“Every last detail,” Lexi chimed in, grinning like a fox.

“Oh, I am not giving you every detail.” Lyra grabbed her wineglass and waved it like a shield. “Wouldn’t you rather hear about when we exchanged pins? It was so romantic.”

“No,” came the unanimous chorus.

Sifuu tipped her empty plate toward Lyra like a general demanding a confession. “You might as well spill, girly. We’re all ears.”

Lyra groaned but took a long gulp of wine, then shifted on her pillow as though preparing to tell a fireside tale. “Alright, fine. We’d been at the tavern…”

“I knew it!” Sifuu cut in, slapping the table. “The night he was fidgeting around like a plumehound with fleas.”

Lyra laughed despite herself. “Yes! Anyway, we left, and I thought he was walking me home. But when we got to the crossroads—my place one way, Bahari the other—he stopped and took my hand. He looked at me, kind of shyly, but he was just adorable. He said, ‘Lyra, I want to be with you.’ And I told him I wanted that too. Then he kissed me. Sweetly, gently.”

A chorus of dreamy “ohhhhs” filled the room.

“We walked hand in hand to the Grove. And when we got there…” Lyra’s cheeks burned, but she pressed on. “Well, things started getting heavy. But just before, I asked him to be patient with me. I told him—it’s not my body’s first time, but it is mine. You know…because I don’t remember any other time. And he said, ‘I’ll care of you, Baby.’”

The room filled with soft sighs and clasped hands.

“Afterwards, we were holding each other, and he took my hand and kissed it. Then he said, ‘Baby, I adore you.’”

The chorus of awwwwws was deafening. Saraya and Kenyata were misty-eyed, Lexi fanned herself dramatically, and Sifuu gave a quiet nod of approval as if to say, that’s my boy.

The door creaked open, and Hassian poked his head inside. “Sorry to interrupt. Just want to grab Kaja, take the plumehounds for a walk.”

“Come sit with me,” Lyra said immediately, patting the floor beside her.

“I—uh…” He glanced around the room full of women, instantly suspicious. “I think I’ll just—”

“Sit,” Lyra insisted, flashing him that smile he never could refuse.

With clear reluctance, Hassian stepped inside, moving slowly, like he was approaching a trap. He lowered into the chair just behind Lyra where she sat on the floor. The girls tried—and failed—to hide their giggles.

Sifuu arched a brow at him. “These girls know how to throw a much better party than you boring boys.”

“Well, yeah,” Hassian said dryly. “They have tacos.”

“And wine,” Lyra chimed in, lifting her glass. “This wine is great, Hassian. We should drink it every day.”

His amber eyes narrowed. “How much of that have you had, baby?”

Lyra laughed, leaning back against his knee.

“Leave the girl alone,” Sifuu scolded with mock severity. “She probably needs it to deal with you.” The table burst into laughter, but Sifuu wasn’t finished. “She’s not doing anything wrong. She was just telling us about the first time she took you to bed and made a man out of you.”

Hassian sat up straighter, ears tinged red. “I… she… what?”

“It’s okay, hunter,” Lyra soothed with a grin. “It’s tradition.”

“I think I’ll go walk the plumehounds now,” Hassian muttered, already half-rising.

“Sit, boy. You’ll be fine,” Sifuu ordered, waving him back down like he was still a teenager under her roof.

Lyra twisted around, holding out her glass with a flourish. “Try some of this, hunter. It makes everything better.”

He accepted it with a long-suffering sigh—and then promptly took a big swig. The girls dissolved into chatter again, and in the noise, Lyra slipped gracefully up into his lap, arms looping around his neck.

“Are you mad at me?” she whispered.

“No, of course not,” he murmured, pulling her close.

“I love you, baby.” She laid her head against his shoulder.

“I love you too,” Hassian answered softly.

“Who would’ve thought grumpy Hassian could be so sweet?” Lexi quipped.

“That information stays in this room,” Hassian shot back, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Don’t worry,” Sifuu smirked. “It’s only for Lyra anyway—she’s got the treats he likes.”

“Mother!” Hassian groaned, but the laughter only grew louder.

Just then, the door banged open. Simon and Rex strode in, Rex grinning ear to ear. “Listen to this—I knew they were having more fun than us.”

“Let it go, Rex,” Simon sighed, shaking his head. “We’ve come to collect the ladies and return them home safely.”

One by one, goodnights were exchanged, hugs given, belongings gathered. Sifuu rose last, patting her son’s shoulder as she passed. “Got to go, son. I’m being escorted home by not one but two handsome gentlemen.” She winked at Simon and Rex as they flanked her out.

Rex was the last to linger at the door. He paused, looking at Lyra with mischief glinting in his eyes. “Oh, don’t worry. He didn’t tell us about the briar daisy patch.”

Lyra’s head snapped toward Hassian in shock. He only gave her his most innocent smile.

“Tradition,” he said simply.

The door closed on another wave of laughter, the sound fading into the night.

Later

The conservatory was quiet, only the soft hum of crickets drifting through the open windows. Lyra lay curled against Hassian, the warmth of his chest steady beneath her cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, brushing a hand through her hair.

“I’m fine,” she murmured—then frowned up at the ceiling. “Just…the room is kind of spinning.”

Hassian chuckled, low and warm. “My fiancée is drunk.”

“Not drunk,” Lyra corrected primly, lifting one finger in the air. “Extremely tipsy.”

“And how is that different?” he teased.

“Because—please, hunter,” she said with mock seriousness.

He gave in with a smile. “Alright. My fiancée is extremely tipsy.”

“Thank you,” she said, attempting to prop herself up on one elbow. The motion made her sway, and she blinked hard. “Whoa.”

Hassian steadied her shoulder, amusement tugging at his lips. But Lyra’s expression turned suddenly solemn as she studied him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. I only had one drink at the tavern, and a little bit of wine.”

“No,” she said dramatically, pausing for effect. “I mean this must be a lot for you. The parties, the rehearsal, the wedding—it’s way out of your comfort zone. Comfort zones are important. And I want you to know…” She squinted at him with tipsy gravity. “…I see you.”

Hassian laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. “I’m way out of my comfort zone,” he admitted, “and happier than I ever thought I would be. Are you happy?”

Lyra’s serious expression broke into a radiant grin. “I’m so happy.”

“Good.” Hassian gave her a squeeze. “In fifty years, I want to hear you tell the grandchildren—” he dropped into a raspy old-lady voice—“‘Me and Grandpa had the most perfect wedding. Even if Great-Grandma Sifuu was there.’”

Lyra burst into laughter, then nestled back down against him. A moment later, she grew serious again. “But no, Hassian—you have to know this, okay?”

“Okay,” he chuckled.

“Okay,” Lyra echoed, putting a finger over his mouth to hush him. “I love your mother.”

“Mother loves you too, baby.”

“No, Hassian. I really love your mother. Because love is…special. And okay, she asked me about the first time we made love but still. And it’s really special that I love your mother and I love you. So, so much.”

“I love you so much too, baby,” Hassian murmured, holding her closer. His voice dropped, possessive now. “Mine.”

“Always,” she whispered.

“And you’re mine always. I don’t care about that cobweb-crotch old witch or any other woman in Palia—because you are mine, and I will fight a bitch.”

Hassian full-on laughed at that, shaking his head.

Lyra pulled back, affronted. “You don’t think I’ll do it?”

“Yes, baby. I know you’ll do it,” he said, still chuckling.

“Watch me.”

He kissed her temple, voice softening. “Alright slugger. Just lay back in my arms and let’s sleep now.”

“You’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised.

“I know,” Hassian whispered, pressing his lips into her hair.

Sleep came easily after that, with tomorrow holding the rehearsal—and the next step toward forever.