Meredith.
"My lady," she said softly, her tone almost soothing. "Your long hair isn't a hassle for us. We enjoy tending to it. Please don't cut it. It would be such a shame."
I blinked, returning her gaze in the mirror, and finally gave a small nod. "Very well. No trimming."
Still, a question gnawed at me. Why had Valmora been so insistent? Surely, hair would always grow back. But then my thoughts shifted to my grandmother who carried fae blood. She too had silver hair, shining like moonlight.
Could there be more to it than appearance? Some hidden power attached to it I hadn't yet uncovered?
The idea clung to me as Kira worked swiftly. She styled my hair into a bubble ponytail, the sections bound neatly, before twisting the tail into an elegant updo.
When she finally stepped back, I tilted my head in the mirror, studying the result.
"I like it," I murmured with a nod. "I will keep this style for the week."
Kira's eyes glimmered with pride at the approval.
