Diana woke up with a groan that sounded like a dying bagpipe.
She tried to sit up, but the room spun violently. She collapsed back onto the pillows, clutching her head. "I'm dying," she announced to the ceiling.
"Stop being so dramatic," Aria's voice cut through the fog, crisp and unsympathetic. "You're hungover."
Diana cracked one eye open. Aria was standing over the bed, looking annoyingly fresh in a familiar blue velvet dress. Damien was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking concerned but exasperated.
"Water," Diana croaked.
"Information first," Damien said.
"I can't think," Diana whined. "My brain is throbbing."
Aria sighed. She reached up to her hair, pulling out a long, thin silver needle. It glinted in the lamplight.
Damien raised his brows. "How do you hide those in your hair?"
"YouTube tutorial," Aria lied smoothly. "It's a hack for volume. Now, hold still, Diana."
