Fyra (First Draft)

Six

Fyra sighed with relief. Perfect timing. She had seen Lily about press her for information. Fyra would have bet that Lily was about to ask her to spy on the prince, or interrogate her about him. The prat had come to her rescue yet again.

"Come in!" chirped Lily, a false smile appearing on her face. "We saved you a seat!" She giggled, swallowing the rest of her wine.

Cirian sat down. What an act. Lily's high pitched giggle was utterly false, and he had been standing outside the door for a good minute. He wouldn't be marrying any of these ladies, let alone Lily. But if he was entirely honest, he had felt his heart sink a little at Fyra's words.

"I convinced mother to let me out of dinner early. It wasn't hard when I told her of the lovely ladies I would be in the company of," he joked. In all honesty, she had been delighted. She probably expected him to be engaged by the morrow. But he knew that wouldn't be the case. However beautiful, rich, exotic, or worldly these women were...he wasn't ready to be married. He only smiled and sipped at the wine.

•••

Fyra tired as the hours dragged on. She hadn't even touched her glass, she didn't drink, not after her incident in Canton. When she was drunk, she started spilling secrets, secrets better left in the dark. Drunk words are sober thoughts, and such.

The others had nearly drank a full bottle each. Their cheeks were flushed and they couldn't stop laughing. Lily flirted mercilessly with the prince and he laughed at every word. Lily's laugh was like an ugly witches cackle. The corners of Fyra's lips tugged up. If only they could see themselves. They looked ridiculous.

But she couldn't help the flutter of dread, and maybe longing, in her stomach as they continued to flirt, and Lily scooted ever closer, to the point where she was almost sitting on Cirian's lap.

Fyra scowled. She wasn't jealous was she? Gods. Cirian was her friends. Nothing more. And besides... He was the prince of Aceria. It was nothing more than a ridiculous notion insinuated by Lily. One talk with that witch and she fancied herself jealous. She was most certainly not jealous.

Not in the slightest.

Kimberly had dozed off on the table, and Maybelle was gripping Fyra's arm while hiccuping and giggling uncontrollably. She sighed. If only their drinks could evaporate and they could all go to bed.

Cirian took another swig of brandy, when suddenly his glass started to warm in his hands. He yelped, dropping it to the floor, only to see the empty glass roll out of sight. He scampered after it, and grabbed the brandy bottle in order to pour himself more.

She closed her eyes and took a breath as Maybelle hiccuped again, then also fell asleep. When Fyra opened her eyes, she dropped her glass. It fell to the floor, but thankfully didn't break. She cursed softly. Maybelle, and Kimberly were still fast asleep. She snorted when she saw Cirian and Lily. Lily had passed out on the chair, and was snoring rather loudly. Cirian was groping for a brandy bottle to pour himself more. She wondered how much the three had managed to drink. She hadn't imagined any of them, except perhaps Maybelle, as a lightweight. She examined everyone's glasses. Like hers, all the liquid had seemed to evaporate.

She knew she had somehow done it. If her gift was acting up again... she shook her head. She wouldn't allow herself to lose control. Not like last time.

Cirian wandered over to her. "Fyra? What are you doing here?" He asked, the words slurring out of his mouth in a barely distinguishable manner. She rolled her eyes. She seemed to want to do that more and more often. So damn drunk he couldn't remember a thing.

"You're drunk," said gently, holding back another laugh.

"No I don't believe sho. Have I ever told you that your eyes are pretty? Very very pretty. Like emeralds. Pretty emeralds" He said. He grasped the table for support, then stumbled and vomited.

Ugh. disgusting. Then she smirked. Lily would love the vomit staining that ornate and probably very expensive carpet. Even though it technically belonged to the royal family. She tried to help Cirian up, but he sat up himself.

"You are drunk, don't try to stand." Fyra said.

She rolled her eyes yet again as Cirian started to stand, saying,"I most shertainly ish not drunk! Imash shober ash you! Did I ever tell you dat you are pretty? And I ish not drunk!"

She was starting to grow tired of him in his drunken state. So utterly ridiculous. She forced him to sit in a chair and rang the bell that Lily rang when calling for her servants.

She heard shuffling in the next room then a knock and a muttering voice saying,"This had better be good. That brat. It's god near three in the morn."

She ran to the door and opened it to the same maid that served them earlier. When she saw it wasn't Lily, the maid allowed herself a huff.

"Well?" She asked impatiently. Fyra gestured to the room. It was a mess. There was vomit on the floor and three girls passed out on various chairs. The crown prince was sitting in another tapping on he table, his mouth slightly agape. She cursed and Fyra gave her a tired smile.

"Let me get some other servants My Lady...we will bring he two girls to their rooms, they sleep just down the hall...and would you mind tending to the prince?"

Fyra nodded and muttered,"As long as he doesn't throw up again." The maid laughed.

"What is your name?" Fyra inquired.

"Anne, Lady." She replied. She ran off muttering and chuckling to herself.

Fyra walked over to Cirian. He was staring at nothing. She sighed and went into the bathroom, clutching one of the glasses. She spied a bucket of water. She dipped in the glass and filled it. She went back over to the prince and sloshed it into his face. He blinked and sputtered, gaping at her.

"Come on!" she snapped, helping him up. She put his arm over her shoulder and guided him to the door. They shuffled into the hallway. She didn't know where the prince usually slept, but she was positive her chambers were closer.

He was half conscious so she had to half drag him there, and she barely remembered the way. After what seemed like forever, she plopped him onto her bed. He yawned then in no sooner than two seconds, he was snoring. She sighed and looked up. Her chambers were large, and there was a small couch in a corner. She shuffled over to it and collapsed into a dreamless sleep.