[Ianthe had hid much of her madness from the Void, and when it started slipping her grasp, she'd scared people. So few knew her well enough to know something was deeply wrong, and the only one tried to stop her research got hurt. By then it had been too late, she'd been too far gone. It scared her a lot. She's not supposed to be burying herself in her research anymore because of it, and Void research had been forbidden by her Lord, but that wasn't practical when people would stop her if they understood what her research was for. So many of them were present when the Duchess laid out the task Ianthe was to complete for her. How many of them actually thought about it? Remembered? It wasn't secret knowledge. Just how Ianthe was getting there, what steps she followed and practiced were, save for the few she'd trusted to help her with the yeti aspect.]

That's why I asked you here. I don't even fucking need this trim - I'm a necromancer. I just... wanted this.

[Her hands in her hair, skilled ones that knew exactly what they were doing, belonging to a beautiful blonde. Shallow? Probably, but Ianthe needed... something. She couldn't even define it.]

My sister and I... We'd take care of each other's hair like this, washing, brushing, braiding it. Hers is thick and curly. The pampering was one of the few things better than sex.