[hr][hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/q8hhsAV.png?1[/img][/center][hr][hr]The number of grapes that Azar had consumed - both in solid and liquid form - was truly unholy. By Arhaphast himself, she had devoured a [i]queenly[/i] amount. She reclined on a divan in a fine silk robe making little dancing fire puppets with her fingers.

[color=f7941d][i]What a maroon! Haha! What a knob![/i][/color] She grinned with a self-satisfied air and it lingered on her face for a good few more seconds before she let it fade. She flicked a grape up and caught it in her mouth, feeling rather proud of herself. She'd always been naturally acrobatic. Smug as a snake in a ratsnest, she went for a second but, this time, it went down a bit wrong and she nearly managed to choke herself. Azar sat up, coughing and wheezing. She stumbled to her feet, hammered her chest, and swallowed. She could taste grape in her nose and suddenly she did not want anymore. After a few further coughs, she drank greedily from her wine and, at last, managed a steady breath. [color=f7941d][i]Cursed little choking-orbs![/i][/color] With a petty sort of satisfaction, she smacked the silver bowl away and watched the grapes spill across the floor. [color=f7941d][i]That'll teach you![/i][/color] she forced herself to think, twin flames igniting in her palms, but it was not near as satisfying as she had hoped and the fires flared and were extinguished.

This was stupid. [i]She[/i] felt stupid. She was no sumptuous courtesan or high class lady. She was, always had been, and always [i]would[/i] be dirt. Why, Azar could not even swallow a grape properly! It was absurd to think that she'd actually wormed her way into the Imit's good graces: [i]absurd![/i] Were she capable of such feats, she'd have managed one last time she'd been here. After pacing for a few minutes, increasingly distressed, mind going to paranoid places, temperature rising like it inevitably did, she paused by the window and looked out over the city. [color=f7941d][i]but if I could get my hands on even a small sliver of this...[/i][/color]

She knew that she wouldn't. She was playacting at being a schemer again. Sometimes she had enough chutzpah to pull it off in the short term but, in the long run, she always came undone. Even now, just a few minutes ago, she had nearly burned the room down over a grape. [color=f7941d][i]Steal what you can,[/i][/color] the practiced scoundrel's voice within exhorted her, [color=f7941d][i]scare them with fire, and run for Baneghora or Esaad.[/i][/color] She went back to pacing, mind flighty, coming up with and endlessly amending half-plans until she ran out of impetus and hurled herself back down onto the divan. Within half an hour, Azar was in bed in her silk robes. It [i]was[/i] a really nice bed. Maybe she could make this work after all. Maybe she didn't need to cut and run for once. Maybe, if she passed whatever inevitable trial the Imit would send her way - for that was the manner in which opportunities always seemed to come to her - she could just... be lucky, for once. The young ayiralite managed to half-shrug into her covers. Before sleep claimed her, she remembered to thank the divine. She recited the seven virtues and was lost to dreams.
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