“Understood,” she sighed. “I’ll try not to practice quite so late tonight.”

“What is that?” Kallah asked abruptly. When she glanced up in inquiry, the other woman nodded at her hands. “Those red marks.”

“Those are blood blisters from practicing,” Sid told her. “They’ll pop and be painful for a while, but eventually I’ll build up calluses there.”

Kallah’s frown deepened. “I forgot that humans don’t heal as quickly as the Light Fae do. You would still play like that?”

Sid thrust to her feet and said grimly, “I’ll do everything I have to in order to play well for her majesty tomorrow evening. I’ll do anything I possibly can to keep from going back into that prison. I’ll play while my fingers bleed if I must. Have you ever been down there?”

Kallah hesitated, then replied quietly, “No.”

“Trust me, you don’t ever want to go.” Sid met her gaze. “Not ever.”

Kallah studied her for a long moment, her lips pressed tightly together. Finally she ordered, “Come with me.”

Oh, great. This day was getting off to a terrific start. What fresh hell was in store for her now?

Angling her jaw out, she followed Kallah, who led her through the castle to a place Sid had never seen before. Curiosity overcame her bad temper as she stared around a large, clean room filled with a variety of jars and pots. Different herbal scents vied for supremacy. Menthol and eucalyptus and other scents she couldn’t identify.

An older Light Fae woman stepped into the room from another doorway. “Yes, Kallah? What can I do for you?”

“Myrrah, can you heal this human’s hands? She’s damaged herself.” Kallah made a short gesture at Sid. “Show her.”

Eyebrows raised, Sid complied, holding them out for the strange woman’s inspection.

“Of course I can heal those,” Myrrah said. When she smiled at Sid, laugh lines creased at the corners of her eyes. “They’re a minor injury, but they must be irritating and painful.”

“Yes, I’ve had blisters before,” Sid replied.

Myrrah told her, “A simple spell will take care of the problem. What’s your name, love?”

“Sid,” she replied, unsure of what had startled her more—Kallah’s brusque act of kindness, or Myrrah’s friendly demeanor. Still, she didn’t give them her full name. She didn’t want to allow the Light Fae to have any more of her than they had already taken. She also couldn’t resist adding pointedly, “I can’t believe somebody finally asked what my name was, after… I’ve lost track of how many days I’ve been here.”

Kallah’s mouth acquired a sour tilt, while Myrrah took in a gentle breath and simply released it again with a wry smile. Covering Sid’s hands with both of hers, she said a quick spell of healing.

Tingling ran through Sid’s arms, and when Myrrah lifted her hands away, the blood blisters had completely disappeared. Where they had been, a new, thin layer of callus covered the tips of her fingers in exactly all the right places for playing the lute.

“This is wonderful,” Sid told the healer. “If it hadn’t been for you, it would have taken me days to get to this point.”

“I can give you salve that will soften that thickened skin, if you like.”

“I appreciate the offer, but no.” Rubbing her fingers together, she smiled. “I need them just the way they are.”

“I understand. If you change your mind, you are always welcome to find your way back to me.”

“Thank you,” Sid told her sincerely. She looked past the healer to meet Kallah’s gaze. “Both of you.”

“You’re welcome,” Myrrah replied. “Now, I’m needed back in the infirmary. You can see yourself out.”

“Yes, of course,” Kallah said. As the healer left them alone, she regarded Sid for a moment. “Well now…er, Sid. What an odd name that is.”

“Yours is just as odd to me,” Sid told her.

“I imagine so,” Kallah murmured. She tapped her foot. Then she seemed to come to some decision as her attention refocused, and she said, “Very well. You will do as you were told and clean your room. After that, you will eat something for breakfast. I don’t want to hear of you going back to the music hall until you’ve looked after your own needs and refreshed yourself properly. And for the gods’ sake, don’t fall asleep in the hall again! It is totally inappropriate to use the music hall as your bedroom! You have been given leave to practice there for the time being, nothing more.”

Sid just looked at her for a moment. She said, “You can’t let your own act of kindness go without a lecture, can you?” Then, when color suffused Kallah’s face, she relented with a small laugh. “Never mind. I appreciate what you did, and I’ll follow every single one of your orders. I’ll clean my room, eat, and use the music hall only for practicing from here on out.”

“See that you do,” Kallah snapped. “The servants’ quarters are down that way, to your right. Now, you’ve taken enough of my valuable time this morning. I don’t want to hear from you, or about you, again today. Is that clear?”

Working for Isabeau as her court lady must be a particular kind of unending hell, Sid thought as she listened to Kallah’s scolding. Sure, there might be a certain amount of respect to the job title, but holy God, having to deal with that crazy bitch day in and day out… year in and year out…

Gently, she replied, “It’s quite clear. Thank you again, Kallah.”

Briefly, Kallah met her gaze, and she gave Sid a short nod. Then she pivoted on one heel and strode away.

“Because saying, ‘you’re welcome’ is such a dangerous, difficult thing to do around here in these parts,” Sid whispered to herself.

She had forgotten to take into account the Light Fae’s keen sense of hearing. Down the hall, Kallah spun around to glare at her.

Barking out a laugh, Sid held up a hand. “Sorry,” she choked out. “Have a good day.”

Kallah glared harder. “You’re welcome,” she snapped. Then she whirled around and stalked down the hall until she was out of sight.

Oh lord, Sid thought. This place is so awful, it makes things that are not quite so hellish stand out. Teasing Kallah had been the funniest thing that had happened in days. Weeks.