Rhea’s eyes flew open and she jumped up, so fast that the comb stayed in place.

“Lady!” She curtsied, which she almost never did anymore, as I’d finally managed to talk her out of it. Then I almost had a heart attack when Agnes rose slowly off the bed… and did likewise.

Okaaaaay, weirded out now.

The world righted itself when she stood back up, eyed me critically up and down, and frowned. “You look terrible.”

Okay. Abuse. That was more like it.

“Are you all right?” Rhea burst out. “I’m sorry; I should have been there when you woke—”

“For what? To watch me take a bath?” I came in. “I was hoping to borrow a gown, if you have a spare.”

“Of course.” She immediately went to the wardrobe and started sorting through what looked like a whole dress shop.

“Have they been giving you extra?” I asked, eyeing all the bounty.

She blinked at me over her shoulder, a delicate number in her hands. “No?”

“Then why do you have so many?” The wardrobe was all but bursting at the seams.

“She doesn’t destroy one every time she wears it?” Agnes said dryly, as Rhea passed over another sacrificial lamb.

I would have had a reply to that, but Agnes had a point. And sliding my greased up, fish-smelling body into this one wasn’t going to do it any good. I stood there for a second in indecision, admiring the handmade lace, before handing it back.

“Maybe a different robe instead?”

Rhea nodded, and knelt to paw through an equally well stocked drawer on the bottom of the wardrobe. She came up with an almost identical robe to the one I was wearing, except this one was dark blue instead of gray and looked like it had been ironed. I felt almost guilty despoiling its perfection.

But not enough to turn it down. “Thanks.”

I peeled off the old, sticky version, which had all but welded itself to my skin, because that damned salve just didn’t come off. I grabbed the new one, turned toward the mirror, and heard twin gasps from behind me. I looked over my shoulder.

“What?”

“You’re—you’re still hurt,” Rhea said indistinctly, her hand over her mouth.

“Not like before,” I said, vividly recalling the sight of half of my face about to slide off. I repressed a shudder. “I’m better now—”

“Yes, but they told me—that, is, I thought you were healed.”

“You, uh, weren’t the one who tended to me?” I asked, trying for casual. “Afterwards, I mean?”

“No, they wouldn’t let me. They locked me up—”

“Locked you up where?”

“We put her in timeout,” Agnes said, and I was pretty sure she meant that literally.

“You put her in one of those cells, outside time?” I was instantly furious. “She was helping me!”