Where am I?
Aramis tried to jerk his arm free, resulting in pain shooting through his wrist. His hand was wet and sticky with something, but he wasn’t sure what. He forced himself to calm down and breath. That was probably the only thing that didn’t cause him pain.
His thoughts were groggy. He remembered the ball. The nobles, Mel’s outlandish dancing. He also remembered drinking. How could he forget that? Going back to his room, though, that was merely fuzziness. The cool air of the strange room brought his attention to the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
I remember talking it off … I looked out the window … the window!
The memory washed over him, overwhelming him with the horrifying knowledge that his father was dead. The tears stung his swollen eye, but he couldn’t hold them bac
