Chapter 7-6

It was the first time in her life that Milly had been hung over. She dearly hoped that there wouldn’t be a second time.

“It’s okay, sister,” Anjanette said as she held Milly’s hair back. She was surprisingly chipper.

Milly coughed and unleashed another torrent of puke into the toilet. She noted that she was spending entirely too much of this quest vomiting, and resolved to change that just as soon as last night’s dinner had made its way entirely out and her head finally kicked the 3rd Imperial Percussion Band out.

When she was done, Anjanette hauled her up and gave her a cup of water, which Milly gurgled and spat back out into the toilet. “Why the hell aren’t you sick?” Milly demanded.

“Experience, my girl,” Anjanette said. “Experience.”

Still feeling queasy and with the mother of all headaches, Milly wandered over to her bed to lay down. Leonas was still gone. She stared up at the ceiling, idly wondering when it had started moving on its own.

“Anjanette,” Milly said. “Thank you for... rescuing me, I guess, last night. I didn’t really mean what I said about you, I was just...”

“Frustrated? Drunk? Honest?” Anjanette supplied. “It’s okay, Milly. Hell, I liked it.”

“Really? Well, in that case... uh, you’re a whore.”

“Come on!” Anjanette laughed. “Put a little passion behind it!”

Leonas walked through the door, looking a bit unkempt but still businesslike. “All right girls, time to get going.”

“Where were you?” Anjanette asked, thirsty for gossip.

“Having sex, where were you?”

“Not having sex,” Anjanette pouted. “But hey, it’s all good. Was he good looking?”

“I really don’t want to talk about this,” said Leonas, in the process of packing what little had been unpacked.

“Well too bad, I do,” Anjanette insisted. “What was his name? Was he good in bed? How—“

Milly, who both had momentarily forgotten, spoke up. “Anjanette, if he doesn’t want to say anything, let it be.”

Anjanette mock-pouted. “Alright, if you insist. Did he put up much of a fuss when you were going? The last thing we need is another one of Leonas’s angry ex-lovers after us.”

No response.

“You did say goodbye in the morning, didn’t you?”

No response.

“No way,” Anjanette chuckled. She attached herself to Leonas’s back in a half-hug, half-submission hold. “My little Leo has grown up into a big ol’ womanizer! Er, manizer. Isn’t that so cute, Milly?”

“Uh...”

“I decided it would be better to spare the messy goodbye,” Leonas said with all the dignity he could muster.

“So you couldn’t say it to his face,” Anjanette said. “Chicken! Bawk bawk bawk!”
It was at that moment that a songbird, a sleek black falcon, flew through the open window and dropped a message into the hands of Leonas. He opened it up and read it out loud, increasingly incredulous.

“Dear Leonas: You gave me your songbird number last night when you were drunk. You’re not getting away that easily. Write to you later – love, Ash.”

“I like him,” Anjanette said.

Previous
Next