Hangover

The next morning

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Note: Apparently “Hangover” is a verboten word in Bing. But “Headache” is fine.

Glorina

I woke up. That was a surprise in itself. In my room, with my stuff still around. Still in the seduction dress. But minus shoes and stockings. No broken bones, or even bruises, as far as I could tell. I sat up shakily. A killer headache, though.

I sat there, shuddering, for a couple of minutes, breathing slowly, until I thought I could try standing.

I made my way over to the mirror to assess the damage. Ugh. I had slept in my makeup. I didn't even want to look to see what damage that had done to the pillows. I washed it all off my face, and stood leaning against the sink for a moment.

A shower. That should help me feel better. It had been a long time since I had this much of a hangover.

I stepped out of the shower feeling almost human. And with my hair and makeup done, and dressed neatly, I probably looked it, too.

I stepped out of my room, and into the common area, hoping to find some headache relief, and stopped short to see a stranger sitting there, reading.

She had the typical red-brown hair found in Tel, and seemed slightly familiar, though I was sure I'd never met her before. I thought she looked a little too thin, and probably would be tall once she stood up. I thought she probably was a few years older than Belinda.

She looked up, and assessed me from head to toe, just as I was doing to her. By the tightening of her lips, I was certain I had failed whatever it was she was looking for.

"Good morning, Ms. Hoi," she said, sounding rather chilly. "I trust you are feeling better, after that spectacle you made of yourself last night.

Dorst. I remembered nothing after dressing and getting myself drunk. I had been rather hoping that I had chickened out after drinking, and just gone to bed. Apparently not.

"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me, miss . . . Um, ma'am."

"Doctor," she said, with a tiny hint of a smile around her lips. "Dr. Smythe. But you can just call me An."

"Oh!" Now I remembered where I had seen her. In the files. "Jasin's sister." In the flesh, the family resemblance was more obvious than in the pictures. Not so much in looks, but in the way she carried her head, and the intelligence behind her eyes.

There was that hint of a smile again. "That's right, Jasin's sister."

"I was expecting you to be a bit different," I said.

"Don't say it!"

"What?"

"You were expecting me to be more masculine, or something, because of my name."

"It is an unusual nickname for a woman," I said. "You could change it."

"No," she said flatly.

An awkward pause. "They had told me to expect you to drop down from time to time," I said. "But I hadn't seen you before now, and forgotten." There, that sounded almost natural. "And I'm afraid I've still got this huge headache. I don't remember last night clearly at all."

"I expect you do," she said. She scrounged around in a bag at her feet, and after a moment pulled out a pill bottle, and handed it to me. "Here, take two of these." She looked me over again, and said, "No, make it one. Then sit down and don't try to do anything for about five minutes."

"What are they?" The bottle was unlabeled, and a different color than most prescription bottles.

"Hangover pills," she said. "Still experimental, but they'll probably be everywhere next year. You'll have five minutes of pure misery, then it'll be all over."

There were multiple ways to interpret that. I decided I didn't care. Nothing to lose. I grabbed a cup, and downed the pill with some water and sat down.

Suddenly my head exploded. There was fire in all my veins. I couldn't breathe. I closed my eyes and tried to inhale. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. I could breathe again. Instead of fire, I was left with a pleasant warmth. Even my headache was gone. I felt as well as I had for a long time.

I blinked at Ms. — no, Doctor — no, An for a moment.

"I doubt you'll sell very many of those," I found myself saying. "That's worse than the hangover."

She laughed, making a note in the notebook she was holding. When had she gotten that out? "About half the victims—I mean test subjects—say that," she said. "I think they're hoping to sell it to the other half. I'm impressed, though. You didn't even whimper."

I've been through worse, I didn't say. "At least it was short," I said. "And no after-effects. I think." I stretched my arms and stood up, touched my toes, and did a few other stretches. I glanced at the clock, less than five minutes. I sat back down. Time for information gathering. "So, um, you saw me last night? I don't remember seeing you."

"You wouldn't," she said. "Though I don't know what you were trying to accomplish with that little stunt of yours." The humor was gone, and that cold edge was back.

"I don't even remember what happened last night," I admitted.

An fingered the white stone she was wearing as a pendant around her neck. "We'll assume you're telling the truth for now," she said.

Does she think she's royalty? I thought, peevishly. "So, what did happen last night? What stunt?"

"I was at the bar talking to Tolly, and then we, and everyone saw you stumbling in, dressed in this most outrageous costume!"

"I know what I was wearing," I said frigidly. It was tight and skimpy, but not that outrageous.

She gave me a sharp look. "And you came up to Tolly, somehow. You were having trouble navigating. And started wailing at him, that he was going to beat you."

"I was wailing?" This was bad. I put my hands to my cheeks to hide my flush. "Who was going to beat me?" I couldn't let that much truth slip out.

"We thought you meant Tolly. Then you fell on your knees, and begged him to protect you." She stopped, and turned to look me full in the face. "And he came and knelt beside you, and swore an oath of protection to you."

"No," I whispered. "He can't."

She frowned at the horror in my voice.

"He shouldn't have done that," I said, managing a more normal voice.

"That's what I told him. But he was adamant." She leaned forward, and took hold of my arm, and I was too stunned to pull away. Then she looked deep into my eyes. "When a man like Tolly swears something like that, it costs him. Don't make him regret it. Or I'll make sure you regret it."

I shrank back. "I'll try to talk him out of it," I said in a squeaky voice. I took a breath. "He has to take it back. I can't let him come to harm for my sake."

"Too late for that," An said, giving me an odd look as she pulled back. "Tolly's waiting for you down at breakfast. He wants to discuss last night with you."

I briefly considered just leaving, not coming back. But my fiasco last night was well witnessed. Whatever I did, my boss would know. Put it off, head to the lesser danger. "I will go down," I said.

"Make sure you eat well," she said. "That hangover cure uses a lot of energy."

I stood up shakily. "Yes, I'll make sure to do so."

I considered just packing up and running. But there was no way I'd be able to run fast enough, or far enough. Especially with as little money as I had access to. And doubtlessly I'd have Tolly after me as well as my boss's minions.

"If I'm going to die, might as well do so with food in my belly," I muttered to myself, as I made my way down the stairs.

I took a few deep breaths, squared my shoulders, and entered the dining room.

"Ah, there you are, Ms. Hoi," Tolly said, standing up as I entered. "I fear that cure you chose for your headache last night was ineffective."

Good. That detached amusement was back, if not the closeness I had cultivated. That was something, anyway. Better than that seething anger from yesterday. Or was it? It took me a moment to remember that I'd used a headache as my excuse to leave dinner.

"No, I fear not, Mr. McLichtensen," I said, dropping into a formal bow, then staggering as I rose out of it.

Tolly's eyebrows rose when he saw me stagger, and he held out his arm to help steady me, covering his move with a formal bow of his own.

I took it gratefully. The stagger hadn't been entirely planned.

"Come and eat," he said, waving to the small buffet on the side table, containing all the favorite breakfast food I'd had in the two months I'd been there. Someone had been paying attention.

"I expect you need some nourishment after that . . . stunt you pulled last night."

Ah, anger was still there. Just better controlled. I glanced at the door, still open. Then went and took a tray of food, and sat down, with my back to the wall. Tolly came and sat down opposite me. Not between me and the door. I noticed that in particular. He didn't have any food.

"Thank you," I said. "It all looks delicious. Aren't you going to eat anything?"

"I've already eaten. Earlier. Before the breakfast rush. What there is of it."

"It's all right, Mr. McLichtensen," I said, trying to sound collected. "I don't need you to keep me company."

He caught me eyeing the doorway again. "I bet you don't," he said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to cut off your escape route. But I'm also not going to leave."

"Escape route?" I said, eating my breakfast, just a little faster.

He sighed, leaned toward me, then caught himself, and leaned back. "Ms. Hoi?" he said, seriously. "You may walk out this door right now. Or after breakfast, if you prefer. I have your check right here." He patted his chest pocket. "And I promise you that I will not send anyone after you. Even if half my collection turns up missing."

I froze. This was what I'd been trying to accomplish when I started drinking last night. But this wasn't right. He was supposed to be kicking me out in a moment of rage, not offering me a chance to leave. Even angrily. Instead of what? I shook my head slightly to clear it.

Tolly apparently took this as a negation. "That's what I was afraid of," he said with a sigh. "Ms. Hoi, you are a small woman. I am a large, angry man, prone to sudden bursts of fury. The fact that you don't take an out offered to you means that whoever is out there is even more scary than I am. Let me help, Ms. Hoi. Glorina." He leaned forward, caught himself again, and just reached out his hand, compassion warring with anger in his eyes.

I let my genuine bewilderment show, hiding my sudden spike in fear. "What are you talking about, sir?" I judged an increase in formality was appropriate. Besides, my mouth had suddenly gotten dry, and I didn't think I could handle his full name. I gulped at my juice.

He looked at me, considering. "Just how much of that rotnic did you drink last night anyway?" he asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Obviously not the four bottles the kitchen sent up to you. Or we'd be having this conversation in the hospital. Or the morgue," he added soberly. "Half a bottle? Two thirds?"

I quickly considered. There didn't seem to be any reason not to tell him. "A bottle and a half," I admitted.

He gave a low whistle, and sat back shaking his head. "A bottle and a half? You don't remember anything that happened after that, do you?"

I shook my head.

He continued, "We probably should have sent you to the hospital." He looked at me. "If you were really that determined to just get drunk, Ms. Hoi, I can recommend several more pleasant alternatives to rotnic that wouldn't hit you quite as hard."

"I didn't want to waste the good stuff," I said without thinking, then covered my mouth with my hands.

"Even so," Tolly said, the corner of his mouth quirking. "But surely there is room for . . . middle ground?" He shook his head absently. "But you really don't remember much from last night, do you?"

"I'm a bit . . . fuzzy," I said, cautiously. "An told me some, but I don't remember it at all."

"Even so," he said again. "A rare occurrence for you, I'd wager."

Not as rare as I'd like to admit, especially with my life hanging on it.

"Perhaps . . . I'll tell you what happened." He got up and poured himself some tharl tea. "If you don't mind, Ms. Hoi, this might be some thirsty work."

"I don't mind, Mr. McLichtensen." I smiled at him, aiming for smile 17, gratefulness, with a hint of attraction.

He had another flash of anger. I thought it was remembering last night, not at my smile. "I didn't see you immediately. I was deep in the bar, and you made your way through the dining room first. Jasin and Belinda spotted you sooner, but couldn't get to you in time to keep you from making a scene." He shook his head slowly. "You came in looking like . . . I don't know what you looked like, Ms. Hoi, but you'll be gratified to learn all eyes were upon you."

I felt my face heating, and pressed my hands to my cheeks. I hadn't planned on being quite so public. Or had I?

"You know about that. Or at least aren't surprised," he noted, nodding. "I thought you might. Anyway, by the time I saw you, you were weaving your way through the edge of the tables in the dining room, Jasin in hot pursuit. Which earned him some odd glances, I assure you. Especially with you dressed as you were. But then you evidently spotted me, and made a beeline toward me. Well, as much of a beeline as you could, considering how wobbly you were, and how crowded the place was. Then you came up to me, and tried to . . . embrace me. I tried to . . . hold you off . . . as gently as I could . . . until Jasin could get there. Then you pulled away, and tried to do one of your bow things." He brought his hands together in a rough approximation of the folded hands of a formal bow. "But instead, you collapsed in a heap."

I considered what 'collapsing in a heap' would look like in the seduction dress, and shuddered.

Tolly studied me for a moment, his mouth quirking again. "Exactly. Then you cowered, with your arms around your head, crying. You kept saying that 'he' was going to beat you." He looked at me with probably the same sort of revulsion he had had last night. "Fortunately for my reputation, you then looked up at me and asked me to protect you from 'him'."

I forgot to steel my expression, and looked at him with abject horror on my face, before remembering to switch my expression to one more of shame and puzzlement.

"Ms. Hoi," he said, leaning forward again. "I promise you, I will do everything that in my power to protect you from 'him'." He watched me closely.

I had finished my breakfast. I got up and started pacing, trying to keep my face hidden from him. "I'm sure I don't know what I meant," I said. I chose my path carefully to keep from looking at him. "I've been reading a lot of mystery books recently. Perhaps my subconscious picked up on that." This lie had the fortunate fact of being true to support it.

"Ms. Hoi," Tolly said, with exaggerated patience, "I have been told two completely different stories about you. This . . . stunt of yours fits neither of them. I had thought that I'd figure out something which did." He got up and headed toward the door, then turned to me. "You can stay if you wish. I am not firing you, yet. But don't ever try a stunt like that with me again." There was more than just a flash of anger in his voice this time.

"Mr. McLichtensen," I said, just before he left the room, "I hope I didn't cause you too much embarrassment last night."

He looked at me for a long moment. "You are scarcely the first woman to publicly throw herself at me, Ms. Hoi," he said, finally. "Especially when drunk." He turned and strode out, his cane clicking loudly on the tile floor.

Somehow, I thought that Tolly was no stranger to the technique of lying by telling the strict, literal truth.

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