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Cywyllog had stayed the night again, and even managed a small walk outside, but it's time to go home. She finishes her tea, and then heads to the door.

Unfortunately, she doesn't get very far, before a wave of nausea hits, and her knees buckle underneath her. Cywyllog reaches out for something, anything, to balance herself - a chair, a wall, a patron - but there's nothing there.

She hits the floor hard and then just sits there, head in her hands, and waits for it to pass.

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"Thank you." She takes Amy's hand and slowly stands, still a bit shaky, but seems steady enough to walk. "I think I am going to feel foolish in a moment."

"I can't see why you should," says Amy.

She keeps hold of Cywyllog's hand, in case Cywyllog needs to lean on her as they walk toward the nearest comfortable chair.

She tries not to lean too much, though is glad of the help. Upon reaching the chair, she sinks into it and presses a hand to her forehead.

"There are just so many people around. It is embarassing."

Amy smiles reassuringly. "It's Milliways. I doubt your fall will be the most remarkable thing to happen here tonight. No one noticed as much as you think they did.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Something stronger?"

"Of course, you are right." She forces a small smile. "Water, please. I think anything else would be unwise."

Amy nods. "I'll be right back then," says Amy, slipping away just long enough to get a glass of cool, but not too cold, water.

"Is there anyone I should get for you? A doctor?"

Cywyllog accepts the water gratefully and takes a small sip.

"No, no one. I will just sit here for a bit and then return home."

"I'll stay, if you like. Till you're ready to go. We can talk about things that don't especially matter. Like . . . embroidery patterns, and . . . and hair combs."

That makes her smile slightly.

"I would not wish to keep you, Amy. I am certain you have more pressing things to do."

"Not especially," says Amy. "I've finished everything I needed to do today, and came to catch up with friends. I'm happy to stay, if you'd like the company."

And she won't be offended if Cywyllog doesn't.

"I would like that." She says softly.

"Tell me what you have been up to? We have not spoken in some time."

"I've been busy," says Amy, "by Milliways terms. I spend a great deal of time in the stables, working with my horse, and I've a job in the House of Arch, looking after Ingress and Gavroche in the afternoons, and giving Ingress princess lessons, which are mostly dressing up and dancing. She's having a ball, for her birthday, in a little over a week, you see.

"You should come. To the ball, I mean. If you're here and you'd like to."

It's light and breezy and cheery -- a slightly edited version of Amy's life these days.

"And how are you?"

"That all sounds lovely." Cywyllog smiles wistfully. "A ball is like a party, I imagine?"

"Myself, well, I have been fighting off... whatever this is for a few weeks now, but otherwise things are as usual. Looking after the boys."

"Very much like a party. With dancing. I do hope you'll be able to come.

"And how are your boys, Cywyllog?"

"They are very well. Getting bigger by the day and happy for it to be spring so they can go outside and play." She smiles.

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