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him, though, and once the food had been brought to the table and all were seated, the feasting began. Edric tasted some of everything: roasted fish, fowl, and beast, as well as a rich stew of vegetables and barley. There were dishes with exotic spices from distant lands, as well as more ordinary fare for the less adventurous. Edric ate until he was groaning with discomfort, having worked up an appetite, and unable to resist sampling all of the strange foods. Keegan shook his head in amusement at his partner’s gluttony and stayed with the more familiar fowl, although it was clear he was getting tipsy from the mead and spiced wine.
    As the adults began to settle back into their chairs, the men loosening their belts and women tugging to loosen their stays, Matilda finally granted the children permission to serve the sweets. A little boy carried around a tray of slices of moist gingerbread and honeyed fruitcake, helping himself to a bite for every adult who was offered one.
    With many of the adults well on their way to intoxication, and the noise level rising as the children ran around the hall working off the sugar they’d just consumed, Matilda declared the feast completed. The crowd adjourned to the entertainment area, Edric collapsing into a sprawl, wishing he hadn’t eaten so much. Keegan poked him in the belly, eyes dancing with amusement, before he turned to the group.
    “A cheer for my Lady Matilda and all the chefs,” he called, and the crowd shouted their approval. “Before the evening festivities begin, we’ll have the Little Mischief Maker’s Parade,” he said, nodding at the older children to round up the little ones. Keegan cemented his place as the cleverest Lord of Misrule ever by directing the “parade” to run circuits around the hall until the children’s energy was clearly spent. He nudged Edric, who made a few token sounds of protest, and then gave into his Lord’s demands to lead the children on one final stroll around the hall, pausing to bid farewell to the Lord and Lady of Misrule. The youngest, a boy, gave Keegan a small purple felt bear with a large E embroidered on its tummy, to Edric’s delight. “To keep you company at night,” the boy’s mother said, winking, as she collected her son and hastened him off to bed.
    The children gone, Santiago’s Saucy Scoundrels and Strumpets began to gather on stage for the more adult portion of the entertainment, as the Duke made his way through the crowd filling goblets and mugs with potent wine. At Santiago’s cue, the players tumbled and danced around the hall, joking with the guests as they blustered their way through an improvised—and interactive—version of the supposedly virtuous Sir Galahad’s adventures.
    “We may need to keep the part about the ‘virginal’ knight’s horse out of the minutes,” Duchess Alicia said, leaning over and fixing Keegan with an inebriated squint. “To protect his reputation. The horse’s, I mean.”
    Edric turned away, laughing into his hand, while Keegan kept an admirably straight face.
    “Ah, my lady, one hesitates to even speculate.…”
    “I’m doing a lot more than speculating,” Edric snorted, and he and Keegan both dissolved into guffaws as the Duchess tried—and failed—to scowl reprovingly at them.
    The play was concluded with a round of hearty laughter and enthusiastic applause. As midnight approached, the revelry became more informal, and the adults who remained settled around the hearth, talking in small groups. A few storytellers formed circles, and in a far corner, a minstrel with the lute played a quiet tune Edric couldn’t recognize.
    He was listening to a giggling young woman sing “Blow Thy Horn, Hunter”, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
    “Fruit, my lord?” asked Keegan, holding out a clove-studded tangerine.
    Edric took it, eyebrows raised. “Time for coupling already, is it?” Keegan nodded. “I would never say no to your sweet gifts,” Edric replied, standing.