I woke up to a headache and Mary shaking me. NOT a good combination.
"Lilly! Lilly! Wake up, you got to see this."
"I will after I barf on you."
"What?"
I didn't barf, but it did get her to stop shaking me.
"Sick or not, you have to get dress, now. The young masters are going to duel!"
My sore brain processed it slowly, and by the time Mary had physically dragged me out of bed and had my night gown up around my shoulders, it clicked.
"Wait, like, to the death?"
"It very well could be," she said, sounding way to excited for something so grim. But, then, violence had always been a people pleaser.
And I guess I was no different, for I zipped into fresh underwear and a dress like the wind. I could at least claim the dignity of saying most of the feeling coiling about my guts was conc
