Trying to avoid thinking about her few good relationships only made Irveska inadvertently concentrate on the bad... The hellish bitch that had cut her face up in that gods-forsaken place was just the first in a long line. Alot of former friends had become enemies pretty soon after; Did I really scare decent people away, or was it all just proof that they were only after my father's money?... I'm sick of thinking.
Impatiently snatching a bottle of reasonably decent whisky and honey-sole liqueur from the bartender, the crimson-haired lynx returned to Septimie and Mariana's table. Taking an outside seat as to avoid gooseberrying too much, Irveska kept a totally blank face whilst her free hand wordlessly presented a triad of small glasses between her arced fingers.