Hungover Mornings After

Myra wakes up the following morning, earlier than she'd hoped. She feels her stomach churn, spinning her into a nauseating feeling that's almost too overwhelming to get over.

Myra instinctively reaches a hand up to her head, massaging it as the pain only gets worse with her attempt at a gentle massage. She pauses for a moment until her eyes widen in shock at the realisation that the party at the Bougainvillea's might be today. She slides off her bed in surprise and then the sound of her bedroom door is heard.

Margaret enters swiftly with urgent steps, standing before Myra with her hands cupped before her waist. "My lady? When did you get home—even Frederick woke up this morning looking for you."

Myra straightens her back to compose herself, trying to shake herself out of the half-drunk reverie she's still stuck in because of the night prior.

"Er, I'm sure Leia opened the door. Ares dutifully returned me home after dinner as he promised. His family had invited to see me once since my recovery and I obliged," Myra explains, sparing as many details as she can before her lie spurns into something uncontrollable.

Margaret makes an expression of doubt before her thought process is interrupted by Jen who stands before Myra.

"We need to get the Young Lady dressed up for the day," Jen flashes a smile. "As she's mentioned, we made sure she was home before ten, according to the stated curfew. I was told you were busy with one of the gift preparations so you mustn't have heard the bell."

Margaret's eyes widen at Jen's words and while Myra took it as a flaw in her information, the old maid nods in agreement.

"Ah dear, you must be right. My apologies for questioning you so early in the morning, I was simply worried since I hadn't come to your room to check whether or not you were in bed by curfew. Do excuse me," Margaret gushes before leaving the room immediately.

Myra heaves a sigh of relief, feeling immensely grateful that whatever happened last night was covered up so easily.

In all truth, she's not so sure herself. She recalls brief snippets of her night, as she'd stumbled into an empty bar and met a black-haired man who spent her drunken reverie with her.

"The party's today, isn't it? Did I get up too early?" she pauses on the spot, folding her arms. She winces as she feels a sharp pain vaguely at the back of her head, making her want to collapse on her bed again.

Leia, at this moment, scurries up to her with a silver tray and a cup of Chamomile tea.

"Thank you," Myra nods in thanks as she takes the tea, hoping it'll contribute some part to alleviating her terrible hangover.

"I promise you'll feel better after breakfast. We ordered for you to have breakfast in bed so you can focus your morning on getting ready. Since you woke up earlier than scheduled, breakfast might come a little later than expected but you can afford to spend more time getting ready!" Jen says, hoping her positive attitude will rub off on the grubby Myra.

It somewhat works, or it might just be the tea's effects, but Myra feels calmer. Her vision regions its clarity and she doesn't feel as if the alcohol has a death grip on her anymore.

"Right. It's best I don't panic at a time like this," Myra closes her eyes, mustering her strength and willpower to get through the day. She can't let her hangover fog her thoughts, especially when she has such an important event awaiting her.

On regular occasions, Myra wouldn't care much for high-class parties or such, even if it involved aristocrats.

It's because her past and the secrets that lie about it depend on how much she can find out through this party. She knows there's so little to know and it would be irresponsible for her to make assumptions based on momentary inklings, but if her suspicions are correct…

Leia leans in front of Myra, snapping her out of her daze. "We prepared a rose-scented bath for you, just as you like. It'll help calm your nerves," the maid smiles warmly, holding out a hand to lead her to the bathroom.

Myra tightens her grip around her bathrobe, having forgotten she'd changed into it in the first place. Absent-mindedly, she totters to the bathtub, slipping in gingerly with care as to not wound herself because of recklessness.

Contrary to her expectations, the scent of roses isn't painfully obnoxious and instead, is soothing. Myra feels herself almost melt into the water with pleasure.

"Are you worried about the party later, My Lady? I heard from Frederick that Jalen agreed to accompany you to the party later. The others said they're busy but we'll ensure that the both of you are escorted to the affair safely," Leia explains as she smoothes out the tangles in Myra's hair, cleaning it with soap.

Myra nods, her mind still drawing over the fact as to how she's going to handle the situation. She feels a feeling of vengefulness burning within her chest as she thinks of 'Ara', the girl from her past. She's yet to figure out the entire plot of the story, because knowing so would aid her in plotting her exact actions.

Almost half-an-hour passes till Myra makes a plan which she's satisfied with and steps out of the tub. The shrill sound of a bell reverberates through the room and Jen leaves to collect the breakfast that should be delivered by this point.

"I don't recall ever going to a party like this so it makes me slightly nervous to suddenly show up to a place with no preparation. I'm not very concerned about my etiquette, rather now I'm going to handle approaches by unfamiliar nobles. What is our relationship like with the other families?" Myra questions while she eyes the flamboyant red dress she's been waiting to wear for a while now.

Leia helps her step into her crinoline, a stiff petticoat which will make her dress look more fluffed up, and lets out an awkward laugh. "I'm sure you'll be fine, My Lady. Many nobles know of your name because of your immense talent so you'll get along with them just fine. Don't worry yourself over it, else you'll see wrinkles on your face."