The party was a disaster.
I was nervous and fidgeting all afternoon and into the evening, picking at the hem of my dress whenever Ma wasn't looking. Nozzel was waiting for me at when I finally arrived at the main hall to escort me to where our guests were waiting.
He smiled at me, graciously holding out a hand. "You look lovely, Kezrin."
Blinding pain nearly crippled me at the sound of his voice.
He grabbed my shoulders as I stumbled, peering at me in concern. "Kezrin? Kez? You all right?"
I nodded, rubbing my hand against my temple. The pain had already faded to a minor throb. "I'll be fine."
I felt him pull me close, to give me a hug. My chest constricted at the sense of being trapped, and I shoved him away before I realized what I'd done. He looked at me in shock.
"I'm sorry... don't want to crumple my dress?" I offered lamely. He continued to give me the oddest, measuring look, for just the briefest second before his usual easy going expression returned.
"Of course." He offered his arm to escort me. I rested hand on his, trying not to recoil at close we were.
I needed space. I wanted desperately to back away, but now we had all of Pop and Ma's guests watching our every move. Nozzel guided me around the room, with nothing more than my arm resting on his, but it could have been a rope dragging me. I couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped; as the night wore on and people continued to crowd us, to offer their best wishes and congratulations, the feeling grew worse. There was no where for me to go, and I longed for my quiet corner.
Nozzel noticed something was wrong. He continued to stay by my side, occasionally wrapping his arm around my waist or across my shoulders. "I need room," I told him quietly. He had someone bring us wine, pressing it into my hand, promising it would help me relax. It helped a littke with the pain of the ever persistent headache, but the rest of the night is in even a deeper hazy blur than the rest of what I remember.
At some point, Nozzel finally took me outside to the garden to get some fresh air and space. Myzzi saw us leave and followed. She says we were only outside a few minutes before I threw up on him and passed out. He was furious that I'd ruined his shirt, but quickly covered it up when he saw Myzzi running up to check on me.
Luckily, no one else had seen what happened. Pop had me quietly taken to my room, and he told everyone that I'd fallen ill.
For the second day in the row, I woke with a chunk of memory missing, only this time with a terrible hangover to accompany it. I knew one thing for certain, however, even if I didn't know why.
Nozzel Waxworth was dangerous.
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