The door opens slowly, and a young woman in a maid’s uniform steps inside. Her dress is different from the ones I wore during my year of service here—instead of Ivrael’s house colors of blue and white, hers is all shades of white, from snow to ivory. She bobs a quick curtsy.

“I’m Lucilline,” she says, her voice bright but nervous. “Lady Uanna sent me to assist you.”

“Hello.” I’m polite but keep my tone neutral, just in case she’s been instructed to spy on us.

Her gaze darts between me and Izzy, then back to me. “Both of you, I mean.”

I notice how she tries not to stare at my ragged appearance, though her gaze keeps catching on my tangled hair. A year of washing with harsh soap and no conditioner hasn’t done it any favors.

“I—I could draw baths?” she offers hesitantly. “The journey must have been tiring.”

Izzy perks up at that. “A bath would be amazing.”

Lucilline brightens at Izzy’s enthusiasm, then glances at me again, clearly trying to figure out how to phrase what she wants to say.

“I’ll be sure it’s a warm bath,” she assures me. “That is what humans prefer, yes?”

“Yes, that’s my preference. I’d love a warm bath,” I say.

“And maybe...that is... perhaps I could help with your hair?” She rushes on, words tumbling out. “I’m quite good with hair, really. Lady Uanna trained me herself. Though of course, only if you wish it...”

She trails off, fidgeting with her apron. I recognize that nervous energy—the fear of offending someone who could make your life difficult. I lived with it myself for the past year, even if I let my underlying rage take over more often than not.

“A bath would be wonderful,” I say gently. “And I’d appreciate help with my hair. It’s been...a while since I’ve had proper hair care.”

Relief floods her face. “Oh! Yes, of course. I’ll fetch everything right away.”

I catch Izzy staring at my hair appraisingly. She clearly agrees with the maid that I could use some help.

“Stop it,” I hiss at my sister.

Lucilline snickers, then claps her hand over her mouth, her expression stricken, and stares at me wide-eyed.

Damn. She’s afraid I’m going to reprimand her. I cast about for something to ease her fears. I don’t come up with anything perfect, though, and settle on sending a grin in her direction.

Blowing out a relieved breath, she turns to go, then spins back. “There are some lovely oils and soaps. Would you prefer floral scents or perhaps a snow citrus?”

Her eagerness to help is oddly touching. After a year of being treated as less than human by most of the Ice Court servants, her simple kindness feels almost luxurious.

“Citrus,” Izzy and I say in unison, then look at each other and laugh as Lucilline beams.

“I’ll bring it up straightaway. And...perhaps some clean clothes for sleeping?” She glances meaningfully at my worn garments but quickly averts her eyes, clearly worried she’s overstepped.

“That would be perfect,” I tell her. “Thank you, Lucilline.”

She curtsies again, this time with a genuine smile, before hurrying out. As the door closes behind her, I hear her quick footsteps heading toward the staircase.

“Well, she seems nice,” Izzy says, falling back onto the pillows. “Different from what I expected.”

“Very different.” I’m not sure what to make of it yet, but something about Lucilline’s earnest desire to help feels real.

A few minutes later, I hear water running and Lucilline humming. The sound is cheerful and oddly comforting.

Maybe we’ve found an ally here.

Or at least someone who can help me untangle my hair.

The thought of allies makes me wonder again how Kila’s doing, and I desperately want to go down to the kitchens to check on her.