Aleksandra slowly grew more and more boiled, hardly caring that she was nestled right up against Aulfr. She knew, in some deep and distant part of her brain, that he wouldn't take advantage of her. He was so warm, and he felt so much stronger than other people. And even though she was so strong herself, she drew comfort in knowing that no one could hurt her if Aulfr was by her side.

She spilled almost all of her secrets to him for sips of cider. It was mortifying, and she'd hate herself in the morning, but right now she was warm and happy, humming fun tunes and mumbling in Ardanian. She reached up and buried her fingers in Aulfr's hair just before her called her name. Ooh, she liked her name when it said it like that, all quiet and rough, a little playful. And then his question. She tried to understand it, but everything was so complicated. She translated as best she could, thought for a moment, then laughed and slid down until her head was in his lap. She giggled her answer in slurred Ardanian and promptly fell asleep, snoring like a monster.

[center]~Morning~[/center]

The urge to vomit hit her so quickly that she barely had time to make it to the window. She hung over the edge, gagging until her head pounded like that Jarl had hit her dead-on. There was a [i]splat[/i] and a vehement protest from the balcony below as whoever stood under the window received the remnants of last night's drinking. Only then did she fully begin to comprehend what had happened. She just stood there, shaking in all sorts of emotions. Rage, mortification, fear. He knew. He knew almost everything except why she'd run away from home. That, at least, had been impossible to pry from her drunken lips.

She turned to glare at him, but closed the heavy curtains to block out the light that stabbed her eyes. He seemed to be waking up, and she wanted to walk over and punch him. In fact, she did walk over and punch him. She hopped onto the bed, straddled his legs, and punched him in the nose as hard as she could. She felt a few things crack. She knew one of them was at least one finger, but nothing she couldn't fix herself. She hoped the other thing was his stupid, perfectly crooked nose. She wanted to ruin how pretty it was by making it more crooked.

"How dare you," she growled. "You took advantage of a drunk woman for no good reason other than to sate your curiosity. What have you gained, exactly, by knowing who I am and who my family is? My mother was a whore, my father a soldier. That's all that matters. I'm no lady, I have no titles, no wealth, no status. I have a name, and it is a name I haven't claimed in over ten years." She refused to even acknowledge what else he'd asked her. It was a good thing she'd been too drunk to translate properly.