12-27-2025, 03:13 PM
Carter held one of her heels in his right hand and a glittering clutch in the left. Cyrena hobbled ahead of him like a wrathful goddess fallen from grace, her voice still echoing from her latest outburst. This time aimed at a nurse who was only trying to help. He understood she was in pain and her night had been ruined, but it was a miracle she hadn’t demanded a throne be carried out on someone’s back.
He kept a steady pace behind her, face a composed mask of concern. Internally, though, every nerve was recoiling. The volume. The complete lack of dignity.
He could see the staff watching. Everyone could. The quiet horror in their faces as they tried to make themselves smaller, invisible. And Cyrena... she didn't even notice.
Then Natalie passed. Cool and unbothered as ever. “The tantrum is the thing making you look ridiculous.”
Carter acted without thinking. A soft exhale escaped him like he’d been underwater too long. He quickened his pace, stepping forward to put himself gently and firmly between Cyrena and the nurse.
“My apologies,”he said, his voice smooth and clear. “It’s been a very long evening.” He didn’t look back at Cyrena, but he could feel the heat of her breath behind him. Like stepping between a dragon and its next meal. “You’ve been patient, and we’re grateful for the care.”
The nurse nodded, relieved for the opportunity to slip away.
Carter turned just slightly, voice lowered for Cyrena alone. “Perhaps some air,” he suggested, tone firm. “I’ll escort you to the car.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he took her by the arm to help hold her weight.
This wasn’t about protection anymore. This was containment.
He walked beside her in silence, thinking of Colette who would never have behaved this way. Not even on her worst day. She wouldn’t return a drink at a bar, even when she clearly hated it. She knew how to keep her dignity. Whatever fire had caught his attention earlier in the evening, whatever charm had seemed compelling in the light of chandeliers and champagne at the masquerade was gone now.
He adjusted the clutch in his hand, and once at the car, he spoke quickly with the driver to take her home. He remained behind; she probably wouldn’t notice.
He kept a steady pace behind her, face a composed mask of concern. Internally, though, every nerve was recoiling. The volume. The complete lack of dignity.
He could see the staff watching. Everyone could. The quiet horror in their faces as they tried to make themselves smaller, invisible. And Cyrena... she didn't even notice.
Then Natalie passed. Cool and unbothered as ever. “The tantrum is the thing making you look ridiculous.”
Carter acted without thinking. A soft exhale escaped him like he’d been underwater too long. He quickened his pace, stepping forward to put himself gently and firmly between Cyrena and the nurse.
“My apologies,”he said, his voice smooth and clear. “It’s been a very long evening.” He didn’t look back at Cyrena, but he could feel the heat of her breath behind him. Like stepping between a dragon and its next meal. “You’ve been patient, and we’re grateful for the care.”
The nurse nodded, relieved for the opportunity to slip away.
Carter turned just slightly, voice lowered for Cyrena alone. “Perhaps some air,” he suggested, tone firm. “I’ll escort you to the car.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he took her by the arm to help hold her weight.
This wasn’t about protection anymore. This was containment.
He walked beside her in silence, thinking of Colette who would never have behaved this way. Not even on her worst day. She wouldn’t return a drink at a bar, even when she clearly hated it. She knew how to keep her dignity. Whatever fire had caught his attention earlier in the evening, whatever charm had seemed compelling in the light of chandeliers and champagne at the masquerade was gone now.
He adjusted the clutch in his hand, and once at the car, he spoke quickly with the driver to take her home. He remained behind; she probably wouldn’t notice.