The Royal Contract

She stepped into her kitchen, finding the things she would need. Hopefully, the things she heard about sobering up a drunk truly work because if not, she would be dragging a drunk reporter across town, trying to find the hospital where they were keeping the prince.

But she stayed tuned on the newsfeeds, hoping to get some news about him. Something might pop out from it. She needed every information she could find about his location and condition.

She did not want to call the Count and especially not her dad. She still did not want to have anything to do with them. But she believed they might be aware by now.

“Where is your coffee, Eida?” She had been rummaging through her cabinets but still had not found one. How did her friend live this long in this kitchen, finding everything out of order?

She was a reporter, not a chef. She guessed the kitchen was the least of her favorite part of the house, finding several take-out boxes dumped in the trash, a few more in the fridge, and one more pizza box on the table, barely touched.

“Finally,” Amelia held the container that said coffee, but just her luck, it was empty. She guessed she also ordered her coffee instead of creating one.

.....

She tried one more container. Still, it was empty.

“What now?” Then, an idea set in. Another of the things she read in the article.

She returned to the living room, finding Eida snoring. At least she had finally fallen asleep. But she needed her to woke up. Or at least to look presentable.

What would I do with you? She thought, but she was her friend, and she could not leave her looking like that.

“I hope you will forgive me, but we have to do this.” She spoke to the sleeping body before her.

Slowly, she pulled her friend up from the sofa, but she was heavier than she thought. She was as tall as her, a bit fleshy but still skinny. But somehow, she resisted moving from her place as she started to moan her protest.

But she pulled her even more until she forced her, supporting her weight through her shoulders, carrying her from the living room to her bedroom until they reached her bathroom.

“Where are you taking me?” She finally went conscious, probably woken up by their movements.

“We are going to...” She did not finish as she pushed her body away, making her slightly unbalanced, while Eida darted for her bed, swaying, almost missing the bed.

Before she reached her, she rolled on the edge of the bed. Then, she slid and landed on the floor on her back. She heard the thud, so she would guess it would be painful. It would probably have a bruise in the morning.

“That hurt,” Eida shouted, closing her eyes while her hands moved to her ass and hips, massaging her flesh.

At least that would slightly wake her up, but that would not be enough to sober her up. Seeing that she was not hurt badly, she went straight to her cabinet, trying to find the appropriate clothes she should wear.

Then, she walked inside the bathroom, took several towels from the cabinet, and placed them on the counter. She would be needing them later.

Then, Amelia was back at her side, dumping the clothes on her bed. She picked her friend up from the floor, who was already comfortable returning to sleep on the wooden surface.

“What are you doing?” She complained, still eating her words as Eida resisted her, but she applied more force this time. “I want to sleep in my bed.”

“No, you don’t.” She sternly said to her, gripping her tightly, shoving her inside the bathroom, and placing her under the shower.

She moved back a little but still tried to hold her, afraid that she might slip on the tiles. Then, she turned the shower on, full blast, as water rained down on her friend.

Her friend struggled, shocked by the cold shower, but she held her in place. She might not sober up quickly. At least she would not smell like a skunk, stinking in her alcoholic induced state.

Then, she slowly sat down on the floor, slumping her back on the tiled wall, and started crying. She quickly turned the shower off, hoping it was enough to wake her up.

She must have remembered why she was drinking in the first place as the water covered her tears, but her wails echoed on the small square inch space.

She believed it was better to cry it out than use alcohol to drown her sorrow. It would not help because the pain would keep building up inside, still wanting the release.

“It is ok, Eida. I am here.” Amelia hugged her friend, not caring anymore if she would get wet. She just needed to console her friend and let her know that she was not alone.

But would telling her about the incident be a good idea after seeing her like this. It might only worsen the situation. But not telling her and leaving her on her own was not a good idea either.

What should she do with her situation? She wondered as she ran her fingers through her wet hair. She guessed she had no choice as she pulled her friend up after feeling that her crying had subsided.

She did not want both of them to have pneumonia as she wrapped herself also in one.

Soon, Eida was sitting on her bed, watching her move around the room but not saying anything. She fixed her hair, combing it in place, but it was still very wet. She could not tie it yet.

“What are you doing, Amelia?” Eida asked, still looking drunk but slightly more aware of her surrounding.

“I am helping you,” Amelia answered her but did not give more details at the moment. She needed her soberer before she could tell her anything. She believed she had another plan.

“Why?” Eida hesitantly asked. Her eyes were still droopy, but she seemed more awake each minute.

“Because I am your friend.” Amelia took her hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. “Now, do you trust me?” She asked her.

Eida looked at her, puzzled by her question, but she knew she understood her. When she eventually nodded, she continued.

“I need you to come with me. But I need you to sober up first before I can tell you the rest of the things I want to say.” She tried to say it slowly because she needed her friend to understand every word.

“Ok.” Eida finally answered in words, which made her smile. She needed her understanding and cooperation.

Soon, they were back in her chauffered car, ready to scout the place for their prince. The newsfeed talked about a blackout about the prince’s condition for safety reasons.

She was expecting that after what happened to him. The palace officials could not discount that it might not be an accident but an ambush on his life.

She just hoped that her efforts would not go in vain. She prayed that her friend and her friend’s prince were still alive and fighting to survive.