#veliusngabe

I guessed the red wine was true, too. Was the only explanation I had.

I could hold my liquor by now.

This was not a good situation.

With a frown, I went to the bathroom… and when I looked into the mirror… someone looked at me. I didn’t know him. But he had done fucked up.

Except… he had… maybe gotten laid as well.

I frowned and pulled the shirt down a way further (the guy did the same) and… it… certainly had reached the state where clothes had been moved out of the way.

Smeared lipstick, really… someone had been keen on marki-

… wrong way of thinking.

Wrong way of thinking.

Running a hand through my hair and throwing a bit of water in my face, I tried to remember anything.

And… and I drew a blank.

Red wine. Definitely.

With a huff, I took out my wallet and realised with a relieved sigh that a condom was missing, no prob-

…

Yes problem. I slept with someone.

How. Why. What happened?

The guy in the mirror looked even a bit more down the drain than I felt. And I went to lay back down on the bed. My phone was on the bedside table, I grabbed and opened the messenger service.

I… had approximately 200 messages yesterday evening.

That… wouldn’t really work. Really not.

So I stared at the menu screen with a guilty conscience until I pressed the three a little longer and the number was called.

It rang and I stared at it. This was a bad idea. Such a bad o- “MORNING sunshiiiine!”

“… I hate you”

“Velius, Velius, my bro, my dude, don’t say such awful things, someone’s feelings could be hurt”

“… why are you like that”, because really. Every time.

“Because your sexy, sexy voice tells me you had a night. And that the night went tits-up someplace, or you wouldn’t be calling yours truly”, well… maybe he had a bit of right to be an ass. It was seven thirty in the morning. He could still keep his voice down. Just a little.

“Sexy, is it?”, I purred, because I didn’t know yet what to tell him.

“Damn sure it is, all that volume gets some bass to work with”, and I would have taken the bait if I wasn’t actually worried. But at least hs volume had dropped. Much better for the headache.

“Well… then you’ll want me to keep talking about the wild adventures, don’t you…?”, making this sound sultry was… a bit too much imitation of him, but there was something about flattery in this, right?

“… you don’t remember a thing and are worried you fucked up, aren’t you?”, he said in the same kind of voice.

That… was kind of true, but: “I’m not worried for me… just… whoever the lipstick-owner was… I… don’t know what I did, I should check, I don’t remember, so I don’t know if I… didn’t react like… back then”

“… joke-time is over then, mh?”, he chuckled. And I heard him groan. Not a sexy groan. But I knew the difference and… that still amazed me sometimes.

… damn, this headache messed with my mind.

 “Okay, what do you remember, Vee?”, he said in a much more serious tone.

“Not a bloody thing. A business meeting in the morning, some coffee… for some reason apparently accepted red wine, which… this was a very stupid move”, seriously

Much to my head’s dismay, he whistled through his teeth: “… must have been one hell of a lady”

“… maybe? Maybe a dude? It’s not self-inflicted”, that’s physically impossible, after all.

“Okay… condom?”, it was a side-question.

“Used one, definitely”, I shrugged.

It ‘mmmh’ed on the other end, then: “You still do the fitness-tracking, right?”

“Uh, yeah, sure…?”

“Dude, how bad is your head, it’s GPS-powered, it tracks your movements”, there was a little worried note in there. I appreciated it.

“…right”, I opened Google on my laptop and chose yesterdays timeline. Sure enough, there was a new address. I was there for… five hours. Then drove back home. Via car, apparently, “Took a cab after five hours. Went there by car, too. No party-location. Private address”

“Mh. Well… are you sure? Any party stamps?”, was the comment on that.

After checking my wrists and hands, I didn’t find anything, so I said: “No, but I’m not twenty anymore, either. Parties aren’t… that much my style anymore”

“Awww, you think you meet your non-criminal clients sniffing Coke?”, he chuckled.

I stayed silent after that.

“Too far? Ah, alright… your problem…”, he backtracked. Was a nice reassurance, “… search your messages for the address, if you really don’t know, you should fine something. You write everything down”, which… was true, at least for confirmation, I resent all important information.

So I searched and… sure enough, a conversation that started yesterday popped up.

“ ‘Gabrielle Jibril’ wrote to me ‘Doing anything tonight? I’ve got a bottle of wine and no one to drink it with, could finish it off together and have sex’… uhm… I know for a fact she is a woman I would void my no-red-wine-rule for”, I mumbled.

“… didn’t Samil say something about…?”, and now that he said it, yes, that… Samil might have slept with her.

“Well… that… solves a bit of a mystery. But I still don’t know how… or what… I did. I mean… I’m home. It definitely was casual, but… but I don’t know what… I don’t…”, I almost whined.

Mazin, for once, reassured me: “Calm, bro, I don’t think it’s that bad if you got lipstick all over you. And she must have had you under her spell a little if you got that drunk. Check if you missed something. Text her if you can come over get it”, when he said it like that, it even made sense. At least to my pain-addled brain.

“… what makes you think I forgot something?”, I could be at least a little petulant.

“… your drunk ass walked out in a skirt once. Add an orgasm and I’m glad you didn’t get arrested for public indecency. Good luck, Vee”, he said, fondly.

“Ah… well… true. Thanks, Mazin, I appreciate it”,

“Don’t mention it. Til next time!”, and he cut the connection.

I smiled and shook my head, then checked my outfit – I hadn’t changed.

Mh.

I wrote: ‘Good Morning Miss Jibril. Incidentally, I seem to be missing a piece of my outfit. May I retrieve the garment from your address, in exchange for a caffeinated beverage of your choice?’

Then I hit ‘Send’… and waited.

Mazin has managed to be an ass in a hundred different ways – as entertaining as he sometimes was.

Velius has managed to be polite at all times. It bordered on worrisome...

Njall was worried about me and made sure I got to ride with him and that I got to get 'enough sunlight'. I by now have the impression he just likes making people move. And do it with them.

And Samil... he... well... we got to know each other... well. And he still clings to me like an octopus every night. I... am... at least a tiny bit more used to it.

Be that as it may... by now I have a horse that listened to me whistling... and was HUGE. It was about double the size of a normal horse. It was ginormous. Njall had told me he didn't trust any other horses – his was the same size – and so... I was now stuck with Haizum the GIANT.

Well.

That was a very long story very short and... now I rode through the gates of this harbour city. And we are welcomed by cheers from around the town. Hundreds of people were there to welcome us. They were happy to get their family members back. The whole army slowly dispersed. There was no great victory march there, there was no proud army being led to the town square, they simply went home to their families and threw down all equipment, happy to be back.

Admittedly, it was... somewhat heart warming.

A little weir,d, too, and not driving home the point of a proud army, but... well, they wanted to be home, after all.

We rode through the city, the smell of the sea everywhere. Smelled somehow of salt. It was strange. Unusual, for me.

Just like the architecture. The houses were generally smaller. And a lot more bamboo was used in building them – sturdy, but also easy to rebuild. I somehow suspected they dealt with floods from time to time. The houses on stilts certainly spoke for that.

When we reached the town hall, we were all welcomed with open arms and a lot of handshakes. Especially the company of four that was constantly around me got lots of attention, so many hands to shake. I... was not comfortable waiting in the back, but someone had to take care of the horses, and Njall shouldn't be the only one.

When we were done and finally came to join the group, everyone stared at us.

The stares turned into big smiles: “It will be a GRAND wedding!”

… some of these smiles were somewhat forced.

The weather. A bit about the climate in their hometown – and my own – nothing too in depth. Mostly we talked about the food.

How hard it was to get by a decent banquet during travels... I could only agree.

I pulled a piece of chicken apart: “I hardly ever travelled, but the food had always been dreadful”

“Ah, it's because the good cooks all work for us, it's mostly sensible of them: they get paid better,” he nodded and got a bit more bread to soak up the delicious pottage.

He continued after properly chewing a bite: “Our cooks are specialised on sea food. Makes lent a whole lot easier. It is a harbour city, though. It is to be expected”

“Ah. So it is Artling. The rumours about import and export numbers are commendable,” because now I was in the position to actually get this kind of information.

He took a moment to 'mmh' and then shrugged: “I suppose they are. It's quite a lot of traffic in the harbor,” which was... a rejection on that part.

… well, we barely talked. I... might not have offered trading actual knowledge either.

“I suppose also for silks,” I nudged the scarf on my neck with the back of my hand, “But I admit I am more impressed by the embroidery on it... truly quick work. And very well done. Can you recommend the tailor to me?,” I might be able to exchange a few words. And find someone to talk to that wasn't... those people.

And this was the first time he did not immediately give a smooth answer.

There was a slight frown and he looked out the window, coughing once before he said: “That... ah... it is a hobby of mine. I didn't... expect you to comment on it”

I realised it was a bit out of the ordinary to put emphasis on the indecent bruises on my body, but... well... the day before might have put me in the mood to say what came to mind. An error. But then again, it was an interesting piece of information.

“You've developed quite a skill, then. It's beautifully done,” I could do better, of course, the stitches were unclean in places, but the stitches properly emphasized and were no direct copies either. Not bad at all. Especially for a man.

“Thank you, mylady,” the smile was somewhat unsteady. Again, my amusement about this, I blamed on my last guest. There was no reason to be amused by a breach of protocol – I knew he was uncomfortable about it, I should have steered away.

I... belatedly did: “It certainly was a thankful gift from your people's finest”

“Oh. Yes, that reminds me... are you... actually aware of Samils position in our country?,” that definitely was a way to change the theme, but I'd bite...

“He is the leader of the country, is he not?,” because it was said.

“That... is not wrong. But not... entirely right, either. He is... a leader. It's a voted on oligarchy. He is... part of the Council of Seven. Therefore, one of the seven leaders. We do live in a democracy,” he looked almost proud when he said that.

It... was a bit of a shock to me, though. It meant there was not much of a guarantee for my own people. It was... a little disconcerting. So if the other six decided to continue an attack... or... even if four of them decided to... my city would be besieged once again?

Not a happy thought. Not at all.

I... would need to talk about that... with my husband.