Gloriana awoke to the smell of flour, rancid chicken, alcohol, with a cold, wet cloth pressed to her forehead, a small hand on her cheek.
“I-” her eyes blurred and watered as she opened them, stung by a harsh chemical light. She felt a panic seize her chest as the disorientation worked its way through her system, and she blinked rapidly, trying to sit up-
“Ssh, ssh.” A voice said soothingly, moving the hand on her cheek to her shoulder, and using both that and the grip on her forehead to push her back down. “Sit up too quickly, and you’ll pass out all over again.”
She knew that voice.
“You … you ran off…” Gloriana said groggily, swallowing, her throat so bone dry she nearly gagged.
“Never mind about me,” the little girl replied. “It was quite scary, y’know, finding you all crumpled on the lavatory floor like that.” Her hands moved away from their place – Gloriana almost cried out and asked for her to place them back on, they were such a comfort – and then one went underneath her head, cradling it up, whilst the edge of a porcelain cup was pressed to her lips.
Gloriana’s eyesight cleared, and she could now see she was in the kitchen, where a handful of staff worked, a mean looking chef slicing a chicken down the neck, maids chatting and laughing, whilst one leant against the counter, smoking. But none paid much attention to the woman lying on the floor beside the meat locker, and the little girl crouched beside her. “What is it?”
“It’ll help you.” Was all the girl said in way of reply, before gently coaxing it, tipping it back.
The liquid, first, burnt her throat as it went down, and she nearly spat it out, screaming, but then it died, diminished and it even became soothing, cold, and then… it was all gone. But the fog that had clouded Gloriana’s mind lifted and all sounds, all smells, all everything rushed back to her at once with a clarity she wasn’t even sure she had ever possessed. Or maybe that was her concussion talking.
“What happened?” she finally said, and to her delight, her throat didn’t hurt, in fact, nothing did.
The girl looked so, so sad. “He told you to be careful. He told you.”
Gloriana blinked. She thought better of asking who he was, and instead said “I’m Gloriana. I don’t think I got your name.”
The girl smiled, and among all the words and grown-up looks she had seen her wear so far, it was a smile that looked ridiculously childlike. “I know who you are. He told me.” She grabbed one of Gloriana’s hands and swirled her thumb over the top. “He speaks very highly of you.” She turned, head jerking as if she had suddenly been called, and Gloriana watched with strange fascination as she spoke in a low voice like she had before, nodding. Gloriana looked over at the smoking maid, who looked back at her, arched one eyebrow, but said nothing. Then when Gloriana looked back down at the girl, she finished whatever she had been doing with a ‘Ok! Ok! I’ll tell her! Stop being so bossy!’ and turned back with a bright smile. That wavered a little, but stayed.
Neither said anything for a while. Then Gloriana said “Your name?”
“Oh!” the girl said as if she’d completely forgotten. “It’s Zsuzzana.” She let go of Gloriana’s hand, then immediately stuck her hand straight back out. Gloriana blinked at it for a moment, before realising she was meant to shake it.
“Charmed to meet you, Zsuzzana.” Gloriana said.
Zsuzzana’s smile was bright. “As it is to finally meet someone Brendon talks so fondly of!”
A pinch, to her heart. Like the nip of a small dog on one’s heels. It seemed silly to think, considering she was here, but she still blurted it out “You knew Brendon?” then her mouth popped open in surprise. “I … I recognise you!”
