Chapter Twenty-Two: In the Midst of Revelry (Part One)
After that, nobody dared to bring up the topic again.
But that night, everyone was a little more indulgent than usual.
The first to pass out at the table was Uncle Hoover. He was the loudest before the banquet, but guess what? He ended up the only one so drunk he didn’t even know his own name. The last thing we saw was him hazily clinking glasses with Lord Tarlasya and Sister Annie. He managed to drink half of the wine while spilling the rest all over himself; when he finished, his eyes went all googly, and he slumped into the armchair, out cold within minutes — we could practically hear the snores like a foghorn.
“Fake Victoria” suddenly lost her spark. She started downing her drinks quickly, and when no one invited her to drink, she just helped herself. If it weren’t for Her Majesty the Queen stepping in, she could’ve easily drunk herself under the table.
It was always like this; soon she was a little dazed, face flushed, and her speech turned into an incoherent babble. She kept insisting on clinking glasses with me, trying to get me drunk too.
That woman had a certain natural allure. When she was tipsy, her flirtatious demeanor practically overflowed from her cute little face. She would lean in close to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, her body going limp and inching closer… all without realizing it. I could tell she wasn’t doing it on purpose; she was probably already tipsy enough to be out of it, just instinctively gravitating towards someone. And honestly, if her big, watery eyes were focused on an ordinary man at that moment, I doubt many could resist.
I started to understand why Viki usually kept her from drinking.
When this woman got drunk, there was absolutely no defense left…
In reality, she was just a very simple girl, right?
I didn’t know…
My thoughts were getting hazy too.
The dish Viki served me? I barely tasted a thing — my mind kept replaying the words she said earlier, but my heart was like a dried-up well, unable to find even a hint of the flutter it used to feel.
I suddenly felt like I ought to drink some more.
So I filled my cup with pure, unwatered wine, and my mother saw it all unfold. She wanted to say something but exchanged glances with Father, and nobody spoke up to stop me. Uncle Hoover, still not completely gone yet, got up and cheered, becoming the first to clink glasses with me.
“Tonight, I want to get drunk.”
After declaring my intentions to the table, I began clinking glasses with everyone — Father, Mother, Viki… when I got to Fake Victoria, my ears were buzzing with laughter, and my vision was getting a bit fuzzy, but I had no intention of stopping. This feeling of impending drunkenness? I hadn’t experienced it in ages.
And when you get tipsy, emotions tend to run high.
I just wanted to see what it was like.
So, I kept drinking glass after glass.
The alcohol kicked in quickly.
I thought I could handle more, but honestly, I’d barely made it around the table before my consciousness started to slip into chaos. The sounds around me turned into a muffled “buzz,” and the last thing I remember was the sight of my parents looking a bit helpless but mixed with a kind of relief I couldn’t quite understand, their expressions revealed in that shared glance.
“My daughter…”
“She’s still that little one who finds it hard to navigate others’ feelings…”
I couldn’t tell who said that anymore.
…………
“That idiot Hoover’s really out cold…”
“Every time, it’s the same; he can’t drink much but loves to show off…”
“Get someone to drag him away…”
…………
My consciousness faded in and out, but I could still hear their voices.
“Your Majesty, are you alright?”
“Let’s all head to our rooms… I feel a bit dizzy…”
“Annie, Annie…”
“Lord Tarlasya, is there something you wanted to tell her tonight?”
“We can talk about it tomorrow…”
…………
“Pepé…”
Someone was shaking my shoulder.
“Pepé, can you hear me… can you talk?”
Must be Mother…
“This kid’s never drunk this much before…”
“Though to be honest… it’s barely half a bottle of wine…”
“Mom… Mom…”
I tried to lift my head from the table, but it felt like trying to lift a mountain. I weakly called out “Mom,” and the world spun; I felt nauseous: “Ugh—”
“Oh no…”
“She’s about to puke… Quick, Your Majesty, lend a hand…”
“Buzz, buzz, buzz…”
In my daze, someone propped me up, and another held my arm while gently patting my back, their different soft scents mingling with the faint smell of alcohol — miraculously easing my nausea a bit.
“I think she can’t throw up…”
Someone commented, and I recognized Mother’s voice.
“Help her to a restful spot…”
Yep, that was Viki.
“I… am wood…”
I seemed to be waking up a little; I could speak a bit better, but my tongue felt all tangled… how did I end up this drunk?
“Stupid girl saying she’s fine… It’s totally my fault for letting you drink so much tonight… You’re going to feel awful in the morning…”
As Mother scolded me, she struggled to pull me up, but she wasn’t very strong on her best day, and after a few drinks, her footing wobbled, nearly taking me down with her.
“Careful…”
Viki must have reached out to steady her.
“Phew… I’m feeling a bit tipsy too…”
“Lady, you should rest. Leave Pepé to me… I haven’t drunk much, I can take care of her tonight…”
“… Absolutely not.”
As they helped me up, Mother’s defensiveness kicked in: “Pepé’s sleeping with me tonight…”
“I… can handle it…”
With each of them holding one of my arms, it felt like I was being dragged to the gallows. This position was uncomfortable, and soon my arms began to tingle. I tried to struggle and get them to let go: “No… just… water…”
“Quit squirming.”
And then someone gently tapped my head, and Mother said, “Look at you, you can’t even walk straight.”
“I can carry her.” Viki offered.
“Not a chance…” But Mother rejected her with a hint of sass.
After a round of ups and downs, I suddenly found myself draped over a thin but warm back. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her delicate neck, feeling someone nudge me from behind while another pair of arms cradled my legs. Then we were up.
I caught a whiff of a familiar scent.
The scent of lilac…
Fine, whatever, I was feeling a little uncomfortable; I’d let them take care of me.
Amidst that comforting aroma, my eyes slowly fluttered shut.
The surroundings quieted down.
The sounds in my ears, aside from the thuds of boots against the floor, were Mother’s slightly labored breaths.
“Hey… this little one is weighing a ton now…”
“Probably around seventy to eighty pounds…”
“When I last carried her, it felt like lifting a big kitty…”
“And now, look at that…”
“She’s grown into a fine young lady…”
Mother’s tone had a hint of nostalgia: “At this age, she should be talking about marriage and all that…”
I lay quietly on her back, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over me. I didn’t feel like talking anymore.
“Iol Majesty…”
Not long after, Mother spoke again.
“Tonight, I let the drinks do the talking — some things I might not muster the courage to say tomorrow, but right now, since it’s just the two of us… I thought it best to share some thoughts…”
