~.✧ Ethira ✧.~ [COMPLETE]

~.✧ six ✧.~

I felt horrible. It was like just the smell of the alcohol alone had left me feeling the repercussions of it. I knew that wasn't how it worked but the pounding headache and queasiness within my stomach was trying to prove what I thought I knew wrong.

The party had finished hours ago and it was early morning, long before sunrise. But I hadn't been able to even catch a wink of sleep as I felt like I'd been thrown off the cliffs outside the walls of the castle and dragged back up them again.

I gently pulled my apartment door open, peeking out into the dimly lit hall. Every other scone held a candle that left a dingy haze of light to lead any servants or night time crawlers like myself about.

This definitely wasn't a good idea. But I needed tea, specifically the melsa tea that my mother often brought me when I was sick that always made the aches and pains subside slightly. I didn't want to disturb a maid in the middle of the night—or, rather, I suppose I didn't want anyone, even palace staff, seeing me this out of it.

So my plan was to try and use the little I remembered of the palace tour to find the kitchens and somehow make tea. I'd made it myself a few times back home so at least I knew how. That wouldn't be the hard part. The hard part would be not getting lost with my bad memory and halfway dazed state.

Though I tried not to let my feet scuffle, it was hard when my muscles felt like they were made of metal. With every sound my slipper made against the stone floor, I paused a brief second to make sure the echo wasn't loud enough to penetrate through any walls or doors.

I successfully made it through the third floor's halls and down the stairs. But once I hit the ground floor, it was a game of chance. Left, straight, or right? My head was pounding far too much for me to try to dig through my memory to be more sure, so I went with my first reaction: straight.

My feet only grew heavier the longer I walked, taking turns and corners that probably weren't right. My mind's functionality soon followed my feet's, and I nearly crashed into a column as a wave of pain and nausea washed over me. Pressing my shoulder against it, I slid to the floor. One minute. I'd take one minute to regain my composure and then keep looking.

But that one minute turned to two. And then five. And then many more until I was in too much pain to count.

I needed the tea.

With a long breath, I stumbled to my feet and continued my journey with my eyes closed, feeling my way against the walls.

I'd dragged myself on through several more corridors until I became too dizzy to stand. I crashed against the wall, falling all the way to the cool floor, my right ear pressed against it.

The chill helped my head a little. Maybe I could just stay here for the night. Someone could find me and lead me back in the morning.

Wouldn't that be something? I'm sure they would assume I was drunk, though after my spectacle last night, I wasn't sure anyone would believe me to drink the old, potent alcohol they'd been serving. But rumors flew faster than sparrows so my dignity and reputation was probably going to be quite jaded after this.

Though my eyes were closed, a faint red glowed against them and I squinted them open. Around the corner was a blurry figure with a candle in hand followed by another figure not five feet behind them. Looks like my reputation would be ruined now, then.

But as the first figure grew closer, a small gasp registered around the throbbing rhythm in my head. Words were spoken between them but I couldn't quite understand them. They were probably already speculating how I'd ended up here and everyone would know some wild, untruthful tale by morning. I'm sure that would really help Varien's credibility.