The board was triangle-shaped, which probably should have been my first clue that it was a three-player game, but I’ll blame the nyappletinis. The board was sectioned off into smaller triangles that formed multiple, different colored spaces. As far as I could tell, there were only five duplicates of each color represented.

“Why are there so many colors?” Tristan echoed my thoughts aloud.

“Each one does something different to your pieces,” Peony explained, sipping her freshly procured nyappletini. “For example, the green one here will keep your unit stuck for three turns.”

“Why would you want to land on it, then?” I asked.

Peony shook her head. “You don’t. But you can force your opponents to land there with some of your Skills.”

“That makes sense.” Tristan tapped a finger on the tall, crowned piece at the very point of his side of the board. We all had one amongst the additional twelve pieces on the board, and our armies were distinguished by color—white, black, and red. “And you said the point of the game is to capture the other queens, right?”

“Right!” Peony agreed enthusiastically, then turned a furious red beneath her freckles and leaned back on her knees. She’d tucked her legs beneath her, and little by little, her timid nature slipped away when she grew excited.

“I wish we could write down what each piece does,” I grumbled. “Oh, hey, wait. Appear, iPaw.” The device materialized in my palm, and I enlarged the screen.

“Oh my goodness. A real iPaw!” Peony gasped. “I’ve never seen one before.”

Tristan summoned his and handed it to Peony. She squeaked, drawing her hands away as if she’d touched a hot stove. “Are you certain?”

Tristan chucked. “Of course. Go ahead.”

“M-my! The magic is so advanced!”

While Peony picked through the screens and puzzled the impossible language, I turned my attention back to mine. “Hey, Ai.”

“Hello, [User Matthew].” Ai appeared, her pixelized form wearing a towel around her chest and her hair drawn back in a bun.

Guess it’s Ai’s chance for a vacation, too. “Do you happen to have the rules for, er, what’s this game called again?”

“The Queen’s Gambit,” Tristan and Peony replied simultaneously. Peony flushed and buried her face beneath the iPaw’s screen.

“Yeah. The Queen’s Gambit.”

“One moment, please.” Ai vanished, and a new window appeared, the text scrolling from top to bottom at about a million miles an hour. Are there really this many games in Nyarlea? At last, the scrolling came to a stop, and ‘The Queen’s Gambit’ blinked in the center of the screen. Ai reappeared. “I have located the rules for The Queen’s Gambit. What would you like to know?”

“A list of what each piece does would be awesome.”

“As you wish.” Her face blinked away, replaced by a list of each of the twelve pieces that included their movement ability and Special Skill, as Peony had mentioned. Ai’s disembodied voice asked, “Will there be anything else, [User Matthew]?”

“No. That’s it. Thanks, Ai.” I scrolled through the list. Most of the pieces were pretty easy to identify like the Hunter was the one drawing back a longbow in the center of the board. But some of the others weren’t very clear.

“Peony, can you tell us which piece is which?” I drained my drink and waved down the hovering waitress.

“Yes, of course!” She handed the iPaw back to Tristan, who similarly summoned Ai to find rules for the game, then began to list off the units at our disposal. Tapping the heads of each one with the tips of her fingers, she named them out loud. “Hunter, Wizard, Monk, Myrmidon, Priest, Druid, Paladin, Arbiter, Saboteur, Enchanter, Assassin, Whisper, and then, of course, your Queen.”

Yeah, that was gonna take a few rounds to remember all of the pieces. “Great, and the spaces?”

While I’d done the math earlier, twelve different Status Effects and Ailments that could be inflicted on each piece was a shitton to remember. I backed out of the list of unit names and tactics on the iPaw, then pulled up a smaller window explaining each of the colors. This thing is more intuitive than I gave it credit for.

“Alright, I think I’m ready,” Tristan announced.

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

With new drinks delivered, we played what must have been the shortest game of The Queen’s Gambit in Nyarlean history. Peony had us both out of the game in ten minutes.

“Ouch,” I grumbled.

“I have a better grasp on it now, though.” Tristan laughed and reset his side of the board. “I like this game. Let’s go again.”

Tristan gave Peony a good run for her money on the next round, though my performance was still severely lacking. Even so, each round that we played taught me more about the board, the pieces, and their playstyles. Peony even made a few mistakes—though, once again, I’d have to blame the nyappletinis. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d played a board game, and it felt great.

Ara was still at the cards table, her pile of Bells constantly growing to concerningly large piles before she skidded sections of it into her [Cat Pack] to start again. The other catgirls at the table swapped out when their purses ran low, always offering a new opponent for Ara to render penniless. For the first two rounds of our game, her eyes never left Peony, but she seemed to deem her unthreatening after the third and returned her full attention to the cards.

Keke and Ceres never happened to wander in the direction of the game room. I could only assume they were alright. Even if things were awkward between them, there were plenty of things to do solo.

When we were on the sixth or seventh round—I’d lost count—Tristan motioned to the forgotten book on the couch. “Do you usually like romance books?”

The tip of Peony’s nose was already red with the flush of alcohol, but the mention of the book took her skin to a deep crimson. “I-I…wait, you recognize it?”

Tristan smirked. “Yeah. I’ve read it.”

I was beginning to believe that Tristan had read every book in Nyarlea. I guess when your whole day is based around when the next girl comes to your bed, you have to fill the rest of it with something.

“Oh no.” Peony covered her face with both hands. “That’s so embarrassing.”

I glanced between them, then at the book. “Come on. It can’t be that bad. I mean, what girl doesn’t like a little romance?”

Tristan’s grin widened. “It’s erotica.”

I’ll be damned. It was my turn to chuckle. “Oh, seriously?”

Peony nodded and sunk further from the table, her hands still covering her face. “I didn’t think anyone would recognize it. Not a lot of catgirls like reading.”

I reached behind her and picked up the tome. “Resonance, huh? And is this Josselyn girl any good at writing?”

Peony sprang to life, snatching the book from my hands and clutching it close to her chest. “Y-you shouldn’t read it! It’s, um… It’s…”

“It’s two men and one catgirl,” Tristan finished for her.

I hid my laugh behind my hand, adjusting the pieces on the table. “At the same time?”

“Mhm,” Tristan hummed.

Peony shoved the book beneath the table, her ears flattening against her head. “I-it’s stupid. I know.” She drained her nearly full nyappletini and rubbed her cheeks with her palms. “I really didn’t think anyone would recognize it. That’s all.”

I initiated the first move, and Tristan reciprocated. We studied Peony and waited. She had her arms crossed on the table with her forehead against them.

“You’re really embarrassed for just reading a book,” I noted.

“Mrf,” she huffed against her arms.

“Could it be,” Tristan paused, rubbing the edge of her ear between his pointer finger and thumb, “that it’s something you wanted to try?”

Well, that’s forward as hell. Every dude in the world knows what a devil’s threesome is by the time they hit fifteen. Did I ever think I’d be part of one? Fuck no. Then again, I didn’t think I’d be naked with three catgirls at once, either. So, there was that.

Peony shivered, then straightened her back and clamped her hands around the edge of the table. “I-I didn’t say that!”

Even I didn’t know how exactly I felt about it. Tristan’s indifference was interesting, to say the least. What happens in Abalone stays in Abalone?

“Excuse my assuming, then.” Tristan dropped his hand and shifted back to his side of the table. “We can keep playing.”

“W-wait!” Peony objected, then winced. She lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “You’re right.”

I had to admit, having her on the defensive was pretty fun. “What was that?”

“He’s right!” Peony squealed, then cleared her throat. She twisted her hands together on the table and bowed her head. Her pumpkin-colored hair fell around her shoulders, covering her face. “I…I mean, the book makes it sound like fun.”

Tristan shrugged. “Then why don’t we try?” He looked at me. “Matt?”

Great. Now I look like the bad guy if I say no. I ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Sure. I’m down.”

“We can use my room, then.” Tristan stroked the top of Peony’s hand and smiled when she shivered. “Come on.”

My heart hammered in my chest, and I clumsily got to my feet. The lights were a blurry haze, and the sounds were sharper than normal. Damn, they really do keep the drinks coming. Tristan circled the table Ara was at, then bent forward and whispered something in her ear. She blushed profusely, then nodded. We left the game room without her shooting a second glance at Peony.

“What’d you tell Ara?” I asked.

Tristan grinned. “That I’d come back for her later.”

“Uh-huh.”

Peony skipped between us, then laced her fingers in mine. “A-are you sure this is okay? I mean, goodness, isn’t this, um, kind of a waste?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. Her hand was small, warm, and delicate, much like its owner.

“I mean, wouldn’t it be better if…well, if each of you was with another catgirl?” she mumbled.

“More efficient, yes. Better? That remains to be seen,” Tristan replied, stealing her other hand in his.

Does it hurt? Being so suave? “What he said.”

We reached Tristan’s room, and he quickly unlocked it. The layout was identical to mine, with an enormous bed and plenty of extra furniture for lounging. Warm orange and purple light from the growing sunset illuminated the furnishings and spotless floors.

Once the door was closed, I exchanged looks with Peony, then deferred to Tristan. I was just as confused as she was about how this should start. Even after a foursome, you’re still this lost, Kelmer?

Tristan leaned against a nearby dresser and looked at Peony expectantly. “Why don’t you tell us what happens in the book?”

“W-what? I couldn’t!” Peony whimpered, pulling her hand away from mine. “Y-you know what happens!”

Tristan shrugged. “I want to hear it from you. How will we know what to try?”

I wondered how embarrassed this poor girl could feel before she imploded. She desperately looked at me, and I added a shrug of my own. Sounded like a good plan to me. Hearing a girl ask for what she wanted was sexy.

Peony chewed her lip, took a deep breath, then nodded. Moving to Tristan, she took him by the wrist and led him back toward me. She stopped when her chest pressed into my ribs, and she tugged Tristan to stand behind her, sandwiching herself between the two of us. I could feel her heart racing and the short, quick panting breaths escaping her lips.

“S-so, um, in the book, the three of them… well, they take off their clothes like this,” she stuttered.

“Oh? That’s it? We take off our clothes?” I teased. Yeah, I could get the hang of this.

Peony squeaked. “N-no! Not just that!” She leaned her forehead to my chest and groaned.

I chuckled, and Tristan ran a hand through her hair. “What else, then?” he asked.

“T-there’s a lot of kissing and, erm, nibbling, and stuff.”

I slid my fingers beneath the hem of her top. “From who?”

“From everyone,” she admitted.

“Better get started, then.” I leaned forward and captured her lips in mine. A soft groan vibrated against my mouth as Tristan slipped his hand under her top. Her tail wrapped around his thigh, and I tore her shirt over her head.

[Memory stored and saved for Catgirls. . .]

It was a tangle of sweat and skin, and I memorized the press of her body against mine.

We gasped for air, our arms tangled around one another. I rested my forehead on Peony’s chest and traced the lines of her waist.

“Can—” Peony paused, licking her lips and finding her words. “Can we try another position?”

I chuckled. Wasn’t sure exactly how long I could keep going but hey, vacation, right? “Sure.”