Correction, she was drunken, but now wasn't. In fact, part of her wished she was. It might dull the pain. As it was, she was very sober, and her headache was very potent.
Which was why the arrival of some chipper soul caused Thérèse to yelp and clutch her head, screwing her eyes up tight. This distracted her for a moment, before she realised that her attire wasn't exactly suited to male company, and she gasped, scrambling to try and cover herself up properly. Looking up at him, she frowned; she didn't know or recognise him. "And you are?"
She pouted to herself, huddling up in the corner of the chaise, keeping herself as covered as possible and holding her head still. "That was unnecessary, you know." Her accent was thick, the early hour and her ailment causing her thoughts to be more on the situation than whether she was understandable or not.