Vanella was assigned before the sun fully rose.
She stood in line with other women, eyes lowered, shoulders slumped. A steward walked past them slowly, stopping at random, pointing without explanation.
"You. Inner service halls."
A brush and folded linens were pushed into her arms.
She did not ask questions.
The bathing chambers were warm, stone-lined, and quiet in a way that made her uneasy. Steam clung to the air. Water filled basins and tubs, carried in practiced silence by servants who moved as if watched even when alone.
The maid from the night before was there.
She avoided Vanella's eyes at first, focusing on her task with rigid concentration. It wasn't until they were left alone to prepare a chamber that she spoke.
"You're new," the maid said softly.
Vanella nodded. "So are you."
The maid hesitated, then said, "Liora."
"Nella."
They worked side by side. No unnecessary words. Just the scrape of cloth against stone, the quiet splash of water being poured.
. Water sloshed hard against the edge.
Liora lunged forward to steady the tub.
The moment stretched.
Vanella felt it then—
a sharp, sudden pressure in her chest.
Like the air tightening.
Like something demanding she move.
She stepped in without thinking, gripping the tub firmly.
The sensation vanished as quickly as it came.
The water stilled.
Liora froze, her face pale.
For a breath, neither of them spoke.
Then Liora exhaled shakily. "You saved me."
Vanella frowned. "I just helped."
Liora shook her head. "You don't understand."
"I don't think you do either," Vanella said quietly.
That seemed to break something in Liora. She let out a short, breathless laugh that held no humor. "People disappear here," she whispered. "Especially when things go… wrong."
Vanella absorbed that without comment.
Later, as they scrubbed linens at the basin, Liora leaned closer. "They separate us on purpose," she said. "So no one notices when someone is gone."
Vanella nodded. She already knew.
When their shift ended, Liora slipped her a small piece of bread wrapped in cloth. "For later," she murmured.
Vanella accepted it.
She didn't know why her heart was still racing.
Didn't know why that pressure had come and gone.
Didn't question it.
In this place, thinking too much was dangerous.
Surviving was enough.