“The last time I had my hair cut,” I said, “it was at the beginning of my debtera training … Jember had to shave it off. The priests didn’t want the threat of lice, I suppose.”

I mostly remember crying in the alley behind the church, while Jember sat behind me with a straight razor. Not because it hurt or because I was attached to my hair, but because of why it had to be done—because a few men who would never interact with me were worried I would potentially bring bugs into the church.

Because they thought I was dirty.

But this time was different. With each snip of the shears my head felt lighter. As a servant, Saba probably had to do this sort of thing all the time, but I could tell she wasn’t doing it because it was her job. She was doing it because she … cared.

When she was finished snipping and combing, she mimed taking off clothing. I hesitated, then locked the bedroom door before peeling off my clothes and placing them on my bed, though I kept on my amulet—after that first Waking, there was no way I was taking it off again.

Saba handed me a jar and demonstrated a circular rubbing motion on her own arms. I nodded, and she helped me sit in the tub. Inside the jar was sugar, from the smell of it, mixed with fragrant oils. The water she poured over my head was hot but not scalding, and then I took some of the concoction in my hands and started scrubbing. It was … I’d never felt anything like it. Definitely less abrasive than sand, and the silky after-feel of the oils was, in a word, heavenly. Meanwhile, Saba had started scrubbing my scalp with the oils sans sugar, and I nearly had to pause what I was doing to take it all in.

If I had to rank the best feelings in the world, having my scalp massaged would come in at a close third, right behind having a full stomach and the ability to easily empty my bowels. It was miraculous. I closed my eyes to better remember the full sensation of the oil warming with the friction of movement, the comfort of rhythmic circles on my scalp, the satisfaction of fingers finally being able to run through the length of my hair without any trouble from tangles.

By the time I was done I felt lighter, as if ten pounds of hard times and grit had been stripped away.

I honestly didn’t know if I had ever been this clean. But if I thought about it too much I was bound to cry.