The morning light stretched in through silky curtains. Blowing in from all directions, they spread and lifted up off the ground like series of expensive, twirling dresses.
The pallets of white and gold and tan fell through from all angles, illuminating the once-dark room in all colors from the outside world. Birds could be heard humming from the outside. The daily bustling of the crowded city started slow, picking up in calls and hollers from the world below. And failing to resist the invitations to that world full of color, two eyelids slowly pulled themselves apart, stretching up as the thick brows above them twitched under the morning light.
"Nnmgh…"
A hand came up to wipe the crust from awakening eyes, before falling to the silky white sheets below. Those eyes now stared open, and awake, fully embracing the lights and colors from the bright world that awoke them. There was no pull on their eyelids to fall and roll back to sleep, simply a weighted presence that told them they had been asleep for far too long.
The coffered ceiling was dotted in complex patterns as a chandelier hung in the center. It was an unfamiliar ceiling, one the eyes didn't initially recognize. But it was clearly one of luxury—a symbol of immense wealth the eyes had only seen a few times to date. Not the fanciest or most expensive, though maybe a close second.
They followed around the room, spotting the many sources of light that now filled the quiet chambers. Ivory white curtains flew along three different balconies, to the left, the right, and behind, as the equally white and vibrant marble pillars stretched around the outside, forming a railing with which the bustling city could be seen over.
Then to the bed, haphazardly, several lavish white sheets and comforters were thrown over top, scattered, messed up, to where they eventually settled around the bases of two figures.
The figure that belonged to those eyes was mostly uncovered, just barely cloaked over a few more revealing areas while the rest was left exposed. It wouldn't be uncommon for those eyes to spend a portion of the morning admiring their own curves, but turning to the left, there was something admittedly much more admirable beneath the covers.
Feeling a warm smile overcoming them, the now-much-more-awake eyes spent a few more minutes looking up and down the body that lay next to them before finally sitting up, letting the silk sheets slide off their well-endowed chest.
Though as hard as she tried, she couldn't seem to remember a single thing about the night before that led her here. Rolling her thighs over to the side of the bed and stepping off, that melancholic thought couldn't quite be contained.
Though the moment was fleeting with the ever-rising sun, the eyes were devout to remembering that body for as long as they could. Then standing up, they scanned over the room once more as their feet took them across the messy floor. A corset here, a tunic here, boots, fishnet leggings, brassieres, and even a few different unique colors of lingerie. One can only guess the magical night that would go unremembered.
A sigh was let out as the figure continued across the floor. Then, spotting a mirror, she slowed, ultimately stopping to stand in front of it.
Her face looked drowsy—evidently unlike the dropdead beauty that was lying next to her, she didn't look so great naturally in the mornings. Her short brown hair was flipped up, fluffed about, and thrown over her face. Not exactly hot—cute though, if anything.
Fluffing it around, she saw that her hair pins were still in, just for some reason scattered and at odd angles. Her painted-yellow fingernails were peeling off, meanwhile her earrings—which for whatever mindless reason were left in—actually looked nice. Well, by comparison. She also noted that she smelled like strawberries, a scent more obscure that she didn't seem to mind.
But by flipping her hair about and fixing her pins, she looked at least considerably more presentable.
There was always a strange feeling waking up in someone else's house like this. She always got the subconscious feeling that this wasn't how these types of emotions were supposed to go. It never lasted long before she cast it away, but the fact that it was there at all still bothered her.
One more look at the hotty in the bed dismissed her doubts for good, though. Putting a smile on her face before she started to look around the bright room once more.
She stood a little taller and put her hands over her hips. Looking out over the room wearing nothing but her hair pins and earrings, she cast her gaze behind the bed, over the balcony to the busy city below.
Now all that was left for her was to find all of her clothes as fast as she could before the woman could wake up.
And, quite typically for her, that's how the young woman Theia's day began today.
"Mornin' folks!!"
Waltzing in the dimly lit tavern with an excited call, the bell's ring was overshadowed by the wooden slam behind her.
"Ahh, mornin' boss!"
With a look of pride on her face, she smirked at the word "boss".
She looked around the rickety wooden pillars and fixtures while giving a dismissive salute to the bar-goers. No windows, no access to the outside light, the only source of brightness and warmth coming just from a series of wooden chandeliers barely held together by rusted chains. Scattered at splintered and rotting tables, folks of all kinds of backgrounds gambled, arm-wrestled, and drank whatever morning sorrows they had away. This was no doubt the kind of scene Theia would much prefer—far better than a noble's bedroom.
Spotting the first pitcher of booze she could find, the young woman slid into one of the tables as slick as a snake, snatching up a whole mug and hoisting it up to her lips. She tilted her head back as she downed as much as she could before the drunk could stop her, paying no mind to the golden liquid and white foam which spilled down her lips.
"Aye!!"
The splotchy-bearded man struggled to snag it back, held back by a bobbing head covered in rosy-red cheeks. Ultimately a fruitless endeavor, but the seemingly fearless woman evidently had her fill as she threw the cup back down against the wooden table.
Slam!
"AAAAAhhhhhhhh!!"
That amazing burning feeling down your throat with your first gulp of booze—It wasn't exactly for everyone, but for Theia, there was absolutely nothing in the world quite as sweet.
Feeling defeated, the red-faced drunkard slid the wooden mug back to himself from across the table, sulking as she gracefully wiped the foam from her damp lips.
"Oi, the 'ell, Miss Theia…"
Though brutes, they apparently still spoke to her with respect. What a weird relationship she must have with them.
"Pop another on yer tab, it's on me, Darris."
Though just like that, the scene flipped once more, the looks of unconcerned fun and merriment spreading across his reddened face once more.
"Ayyyye, yer th' best, Miss!"
Mirroring the merriment of her own people, a wide smile spread across her still-damp lips in turn. Then, feeling satisfied, she bounced her way to the bar.
She plopped herself down, shifting in the tearing leather seat until she found a position where the metal pole wasn't poking her. "What's that look for? Ya 'aven't seen me start my mornin' like this before, Arin?"
Sitting in the stool next to her, an anxious-looking boy with blonde hair bobbed his leg up and down as he fiddled with the red mask he wore over his slender face.
"I get the whole 'It's five o'clock somewhere!' shtick but that right there's the problem, Theia… It isn't even morning, it's like two."
His vocal impression of Theia was uncharacteristically girly.
"—Huh?"
"You've overslept, Miss." Wiping out the inside of a wooden mug, a polite-looking older man with white hair cut into the conversation. "I would have sent Arin to go look for you, but unfortunately we had no idea as to where you ran off to. My apologies."
The bartender—and owner, believe it or not—of such a rundown dive was none other than the man before them. Incredibly kind, polite, and attentive by Theia's account. Wouldn't a butler role be better suited for him?
"Nahhh that's cool," Theia scratched at the back of her neck.
She was about to speak up again before the restless boy to her left spoke up again.
"Hey, uh, Theia…"
"Yo."
The seemingly pretty anxious boy, Arin, stopped bouncing his leg and instead started scratching the side of his temple. From one thing to another, by the looks.
"Is your corset on inside out? I'm pretty sure that's the rough leather."
"Uh—"
Looking down slowly and with as much grace as a sliding stone, she saw she had somehow put on, buttoned, and tied everything together completely inside out, without even realizing.
Was she seriously that much in a rush to get out of there?
Having escaped from the silky sheets of the wealthy Citadel, she was hoping the flow of the conversation would lead to anywhere besides right back to it. Theia's own "habits" were exceedingly obvious to her inner circle by now, but between her disappearing last night, coming in late, and wearing her clothes inside out…
Was this new kid this hopelessly out of the loop?
"Yea yea, yer right Arin… But putin' my bad sleepin' habits and bad dressin' skills aside," Resolute to derail any more talk of where last night's booze landed her, she flicked the hair out of her eyes once more before leaning in further. Derailing conversations was her specialty, so getting closer to both Arin and the barkeep, she decided to press the issue of anything that could change the subject.
Preferably… "Do we got anythin' on the itinerary today? Was kinda hopin' somethin' out 'a town."
She was like a parasite, lunging at the opportunity to sink her teeth into anything and everything lucrative—though Theia would bitterly laugh off the word "parasite", insisting instead on "opportunist".
But as for why she wanted something out of town, well, her motivations for that were fairly obvious, all things considered…to anyone that wasn't Arin.
"Ah yes, Miss, I was meaning to speak to you regarding an event north of the city."
And, "ya had me at north 'a the city," was her immediate reaction.
"Fransmury Flora is coming down south to his private residence in Nunam today. Supposedly, by the invitations I was able to find, it's going to be a large gathering at the Flora Banquet Hall. And by the looks exclusive, might I add."
He had such a refined way of speaking it was a wonder why he hung around Theia at all.
"Fransmury Flora? That's the son o' the Duke of Flora, right? Th' one we got some dirt on with th' opium plantations?"
"Actually he's the Duke now, since his pops got axed in a petty revolt. Pretty sure this is a party celebrating his ascension. Kinda ironic actually." Shifting his posturem, Arin's legs began to bounce once more as he held back a grim laugh.
"An' yet he's holdin' th' party down here… Sila isn't anywhere near as big as th' Capital a' Flora. Think he's afraid 'a the rioters gettin' him, too? Or maybe it's 'cause 'a the new tax laws…" All were plausible causes. But knowing the happenings of that particular noble family, there was always the reasonable concern of more being at play.
Well aware of these hypothetical causes, Arin shook his head—meanwhile the bartender simply set down the few clean wooden mugs under the bar. "It's likely, but me and Cat's Eye were thinking a bit more's at play here."
The bartender, presumably "Cat's Eye", poked his head back up as he brushed off his apron and settled his hands behind his back. "Precisely. Particularly due to most of the out-of-state poppy fields being located south of Nunam, though that being the main reason of course is just speculation."
"No, no I think yer onto somethin'." Settling her chin on the back of her hand, Theia immersed herself into her suspicions. "If I remember correctly that's the place we saw all those people movin' in an' out 'a lately. Some of 'em had suspicious cloaks, right? The Crown ain't doin' anything about it either, are they?
"If ya mean about all the opium, then hell no. Dude's a member of Black Rose. Even if the scandal of mixin' the shit into cigarettes wasn't nearly as profitable, the kid's still untouchable."
"Quite typical of rather spoiled rich kids such as himself. Using daddy's money to buy drugs away from home."
Unable to contain it anymore, a wide grin once again spread across her lips.
The young duke of the Northeastern provinces using his status to turn poppy plants into opium to mix into the cigarettes his family sells. This was a well-known fact by anyone who sold the cigarettes, and even some of the customers who turned to harder drugs, but there was no evidence that the poppy fields were used to make opium. In fact, poppy was only one of the dozens of types of plants the connoisseur grew there, though still the majority. Point is, despite common knowledge against them, the Duke was never in Sila-Nunam, and since he was on the Crown's good side, there was no attainable way to get a warrant.
But with all this busy traffic, and now him opening the Hall up to his exclusive fan-club, the gates were essentially open to catch him red handed.
It was easy, hell, even too easy. A scandal this big was just hanging by the threads, after all. It was like ripe fruit to her.
But most importantly, if they could nab this spoiled rich kid on it first, it was only natural to assume the King would be thrown on the chopping block next. It was that prospect that truly enticed her, pushing her excitement over the edge as she failed to contain her laugh.
"Hehhehhehhehh…"
She stood up, kicking in the stool with her foot as she gave Arin a look with sparkles in her eyes.
"Fuck it, I got nothin' planned today. What time's the party start?"
"Four, but needless to say, none of us are invited."
That was Arin's solemn deduction, but despite that, he stood up next to her, sliding his red overcoat on. He didn't even need to hear Theia's next words. He knew exactly what they would be.
Flicking the hair out over her face, Theia licked her lips in excitement.
"Welp, looks like we're crashin' it then."