Kit's fingers twitched against the grass. What the heck was with all that noise? Ugh. Raising her fingers to her ears to cover her head, she realized her arms felt like lead. The make-shift bandage on her right hand was tied loosely and coming undone. Her hair was a mess and had come undone. Her disguise fooled no one at the bar, but the old wrinkled man pretended as if it had fooled him. Surely the people would hear the news. It wasn't surprising though, raging alcoholism in her father would teach you something. If you got stressed, he drank. If you wanted to feel good because your having a party, he drank. If you were sad and couldn't deal with things, he drank. If he couldn't sleep, he drank. If there was a situation he couldn't handle, he drank. Although Kit could deal easily with most situations, hopelessness was not one of them. It was an uncomfortable and unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her want to never wake up again. So doing as her father did as she was taught to, she drank. In her mind it was justified, she wasn't as bad as her father after-all. She had thought about it part of the night, but shook it off the fuzzier things got.
Kit attempted to roll over, fluttering her lids. The grass was cold and green. And the sun so damn bright. She shielded her eyes with her arm, the sound of metal on metal as knights walked around the grounds. Lucy nodded at Lyle, looking over the balcony. Thank goodness he hadn't killed her and hid the body, which was Lucy's main worry. Rushing down the steps with a few worried maids, the girls made there way over to her. When they got to her, her eyes were closed and shielded, her dress dirtied and hair slightly messed. They didn't say a word, after all what was there to say. They tried to pick her up but Kit groaned and shook her head, "Leave 'e alone." She cried grabbing the bottle tightly to her chest. "I'm just tired. I'll see you in the morning." Lucy shook her head, all stern and no sympathy. "It IS morning, mistress. Awaken and get clean! You leave soon after all!" A knight upon hearing the madness watched behind the maids struggle to get Kit up for awhile, then took off his hood and simply picked the girl up princess style in one sweep. Kit didn't bother to fight it, and just curled up and closed her eyes back.
"To her bedroom." Lucy said, looking away. And again silence ensued. But not for long, as they went up the stairs Lucy whispered, "Was he not soft? Was he not kind?" In a quiet tone. Her eyes not on her mistress but the railing. She very possibly could hurt Lyle herself. Kit laughed loudly, a little of the liquor still in her system. "Was what at all? He didn't hurt me." Kit couldn't imagine it, pressing her face against the chest of the man who held her up as they trudged to the first floor of the large castle. Kit's stomach didn't feel so good and the cool chainmail against her forehead was refreshing. Lucy didn't want to say much with other people around but curiosity got the better of her. Why otherwise would she run away on her wedding night. "So you were scared and ran?" She decided to take it from another route, not directly asking the cause. "He didn't damn well want me at all, my hands injured, me and him were both tired and had a hard night. Stop pestering me my head hurts. Mary go get me some of that nasty pain killing liquid before my head explodes." The knight stepped into the room carefully, setting her on the bed and taking his leave politely. He had dark hair and bright eyes, tan skin. Kit would remember his face and give him extra money this month. But she curled up as the maids rushed around to pack for her, for the plans of the vacation.