There's scant starlight through the (closed, locked) window. Most of the light comes from a lamp by the bed; it catches on the gleam of shackles that sit heavily in her outstretched hands, the key at her throat.

There's a girl who could've once caught this light with barely a moment's thought, amplified it into a sunglow even in the middle of the night. But she's gone now, and the care of Ravka has fallen to others.

Zoya says, "You were reckless today." Then, "You're reckless most of the time, so I mean that you chose today to be particularly stupid."

Did she choose to bring this up when Nikolai is soon to be a literal captive audience? Maybe.