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She was clearly lying about her connection to the royal family, but she still managed to get into the ball.
And she looked the part. She looked like she belonged.
Why would she come to a ball she was not invited to, kiss a random stranger, and then disappear?
I have no desire to stay at the ball for the rest of the evening, but I cannot leave now, because several people will notice that I am missing.
So I stay for dinner and dessert and more dancing, and all I can do is think about the human woman whose body was so close to mine mere moments, and then hours, ago.
* * *
I wakeup the day after the ball with a headache.
I returned home last night after midnight and went to the cellar, where I emptied several bottles of zhisk. I have a very high tolerance for alcohol, but last night I drank enough to put an entire herd of equu down.
Despite the amount of zhisk I consumed, all I can think about is Salina, my mystery woman.
She is important. She is important. She is important.
The words resound through my mind, practically bouncing off the walls of my brain. I cannot get rid of those words and the thought of her, no matter how I try.
I spend all day in bed thinking about Salina.
She is important to me, and I don’t know why, and I know I have to find her. I have to find her.
I don’t know why, I don’t know why, I don’t know why.
You need to stop this!I think fiercely to myself.You are obsessing over her. This isn’t right!
I give a dry laugh as I realize how much I have been thinking about her.
When evening starts to fall, I get out of bed and prepare to go to my favorite tavern. I know several of my friends will be there, probably waiting for me, and that is motivation enough for me to get out of bed.
After I have finished getting ready, I fill my coin purse with some of the money from the meager allowance that my parents afford me.
I don't even want to think about how much Ocuri gets from them. He probably has open access to their pocketbooks.
The thought galls me, as all thoughts about Ocuri usually do. But the one about money is particularly hard for me to swallow, because if I lived on my own, I would not even be able to live off the allowance my parents give me.
I’d have to work three jobs just to survive, and I definitely would not be able to remain in the High Towns.
I arrive at the tavern just before the sun sets. The night is still warm, and there are hints of sunlight creeping over the horizon.
I get a table outside, where several of my friends are waiting for me.
I am still thinking about her when I order my first pint of ale. I barely participate in the conversation with my friends, because all I can focus on are the lines of her face and the curve of her mouth.
All I can think about is the way her body felt underneath my touch.
All I can remember is the way she responded to me, the way she moaned into my mouth and sagged in my arms.
She is important. And I want her more than anything in the world. She is all I want. She is all I want.
My friends and drinking companions do not seem to notice that I am lost in thought. Although my friend Farzhi does – but among the rest, he is my only real friend.
“Are you okay?” he asks me when I’ve had my sixth shot of zhisk. I want to order more, but when the barmaid comes around, Farzhi instead asks her for a basket of friend burgona and roasted dripir.
“You need to eat something,” he says firmly when I protest. “But you can order the rest of them.”
