Intertwine by Nichole van

gestured toward a wooden chair in the corner with a rather large hole in the middle of its seat, a porcelain bowl peeping out from underneath.
    “Ah,” Emme had said, finally understanding. Though still confused by the whole exchange. Night commode. She had committed the word to memory. It was obviously a term that she should have known. What other basic things had she forgotten?
    After using the night commode, Emme had asked about perhaps bathing as well. This had resulted in two footman carrying in a round tub which Fanny had called a hip bath. They had placed this in front of the fire and circled it with a screen, presumably for warmth and privacy. Then Emme had watched as bucket after bucket of hot water was brought into the room, filling the bath.
    Though time consuming, Emme had thanked them all and sunk her form as far as possible into the warm, soothing water. The soap had been small and round but pleasant, smelling of lavender. Fanny had even provided a toothbrush and a chalky dust she called “tooth powder.”
    But the entire experience had felt odd. Everything just a little off, but Emme was at a loss to explain exactly how. Again memories skittered frustratingly just out of reach.
    She had been somewhat comforted by the cream silken night gown and matching robe with pink satin slippers. Fanny had stated that these were the clothes she had been wearing when Mr. Knight had found her. These items at least didn’t feel odd. Just good and right against her skin.
    Hugging her arms around herself, Emme tried yet again to remember her own name, her family, a friend. A detail that had the taste of memory. Anything. But the harder she concentrated, the more everything danced out of reach. Nothing. She could remember nothing. Emme fought against the now familiar anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her.
    Another panic attack , Alter Emme murmured.
    Taking deep measured breaths, she walked over and studied her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. Dark hair curling into loose ringlets. Oddly colored eyes with pale amber around her pupil drifting to light green farther out. Dramatic arching eyebrows, making her pale skin seem even more colorless. She traced her lips with her fingertips, the touch convincing her that the reflection was truly herself. A face that was achingly familiar and yet not. Emme started at a gentle knock on the door.
    “Come in,” she called and then smiled as Georgiana Knight cautiously peered around the door.
    “Oh,” Georgiana said brightly, “how wonderful to see that you are awake and up!”
    Georgiana shut the door and moved into the room. Though too thin and shockingly pale, Georgiana’s eyes bounced with excitement. Her dress was a light blue with a high waist and flowy material that swirled around her as she walked. Her golden hair was piled on top of her head with curls escaping to frame her face. Georgiana’s generous mouth spread in a welcoming smile.
    “Yes, thank you,” Emme agreed. “Fanny has been most attentive and helpful.”
    “How are you feeling?” Georgiana asked.
    “Better,” Emme replied. “Though nothing of my memory has returned, I’m so sorry to say.” Emme found herself instinctively matching her speech and accent to Georgiana’s. It seemed fitting but not entirely normal. Again, just one more thing that was a little off.
    “I thank you and your brother for your kind hospitality,” Emme continued. “I shudder to think what would have become of me had Mr. Knight not come to my rescue.”
    “Oh, think nothing of it. In fact, James insists that you are to stay as long as you would like. Most definitely until your memory returns or someone comes to claim you. Or both. I know I am delighted to have your company.”
    Georgiana cocked her head in surprise at Emme and moved to stand much closer to her, eying her up and down. And then turned so she and Emme stood side-by-side, their shoulders the same height and nearly touching. As if appraising her,