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[sub][url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/5c/0e/9d5c0e99c3dd0a02c393ed7a149cc15c.jpg][i][sub][color=D99036] dress ♛ [/color][/sub][/i][/url][/sub][sub][url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/e2/a3/da/e2a3da4c240305da46e53544a7443871.jpg][i][sub][color=D99036] hair  ♛ [/color][/sub][/i][/url][/sub][sub][/sub]
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[sub][color=d9910b]E D W A R D S   E S T A T E  |  M O R N I N G[/color][/sub]
[sub][color=gray]I n t e r a c t i o n s :
Wulfric [@SilverPaw] , Farim [@Lava Alckon]
M e n t i o n s :[/color][/sub]
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Nahir blinked, watching Prince Wulfric sip the very drink he had just warned her against. A small, appreciative smile tugged at her lips, acknowledging his subtle gesture. In response, she hesitated briefly before bringing her own glass to her lips for a cautious taste. He had been right—the drink was tempered, its flavor smooth and enticing, but not overwhelming. The warmth of the alcohol settled in her stomach, but it was more of an afterthought, a fleeting sensation against the deeper, more persistent heaviness she had woken up with that morning.

She had felt it from the moment she rose—a sluggishness that clung to her limbs, making each movement a little harder to execute, as if her body were refusing to fully cooperate. Nahir suppressed a flicker of frustration, refusing to let it show now. She had no name for this strange, intermittent weight that sometimes settled into her bones, nor for the tremors that occasionally fluttered through her hands. Today, her body was simply slower, heavier. But she wouldn’t let anyone see that.

[color=ab274f]“He’s well practiced,”[/color] Wulfric had remarked. She didn’t doubt it for a second.

Taking his arm as he escorted her away from the table, Nahir leaned into his support ever so slightly, though her expression remained poised. Her legs felt like they were moving through water, her muscles unresponsive and reluctant. When they reached her cousin’s table, her gaze fell on him, and though she wanted to offer a polite smile, the effort felt too much. Instead, the twitch of her lips resembled something closer to a condescending smirk, the kind Layla wore so often. Perhaps it was the sight of the princess perched shamelessly on his lap. Or maybe it was simply because her body felt more like a burden today, and Nahir couldn't summon the energy to feign interest.

Her time at the opera with Wulfric had been enjoyable and distracting, though the heaviness in her limbs had lingered. The performance was beautiful, but the subtle strain of keeping her movements controlled, of masking her body's betrayal, left her slightly drained. The conversation had been light, though at times she found herself struggling to stay fully present, the fogginess creeping into her mind as the evening wore on. 

Now, back in the guest house, Nahir could finally let her guard down. As she sank into the cushions of her chair, she allowed herself to exhale, feeling the weight of the day settle deeper into her body. She requested another bath, this time with steaming hot water epsom salt, mustard powder, and baking powder. She hoped that the heaviness would be gone by tomorrow morning for a few more days. 




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