“Just trust me,” said Ana as she continued, completely ignoring Ceri’s protests.
In fact, she ignored almost everything Ceri was doing—the sighing, the nervous tapping of her foot—everything except the movements of her head.
Ana gripped Ceri’s neck firmly. “Keep still.”
Ceri balked at both the touch and the command. Just who the hell did this Halfling think she was?
She was just about ready to let Ana know exactly who she was dealing with, “brand new Ceri” be damned, when the Halfling said, “Finished.”
The change was remarkable.
Ceri’s hair was still shorter than she had planned, but it now angled gently from the back of her head to her chin in a smooth, perfect line.
“This is magic,” said Ceri.
“No magic,” said Ana. “Just blending.”
“Thank you,” said Ceri sincerely. She awkwardly grabbed Ana’s arm. She wasn’t used to all this casual touching, but it seemed like people liked it, so she tried her best. “You saved me.”
Ana laughed. “I’ll have to tell my mom I saved someone from a hair emergency on move-in day. She’ll be so proud.”
Ceri followed Ana back into the room, where she spotted a huge trunk on the opposite side from hers.
It was nearly as big as Ana was. “How’d you get that in here?” asked Ceri.
“Oh, let me tell you about that.” Ana leaned towards Ceri, making a hand gesture like she was conducting an orchestra that emphasized every word. “The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen carried it for me. He was kinda old: probably a parent, but I’m hoping it’s a professor. You should have seen me struggle on the train.”
“The what?”
“The train. Oh, right. The ‘rail-wheeler.’ You have the silliest names for things here.”
Definitely not from around here then. “Where are you from?”
“Turtle Island,” said Ana. “Part of what you call the ‘New World.’ My dad is from here though, a fairy of the Seelie Court. Are you from Norgate?”
Another person that didn’t recognize Ceri. It made sense, Ceri realized, although she hadn’t considered it as a possibility before arriving. Universities tended to attract people from all over the world. There was a good chance that many here wouldn’t recognize her.
She really liked that.
“No, I’m from Arcas Dyrne,” said Ceri. “Well, the castle nearby. My name is Princess Ceridwen of Loegria and Wilderise, but you may call me Ceri.”
She waited tensely, trying to anticipate Ana’s response.
“Stop it. You’re kidding,” said Ana. Her voice had raised considerably in pitch. “A princess?”
“I’m quite serious,” said Ceri.
“I’m supposed to be anti-monarchy on account of the fairy court interference, but…a real princess?” Ana’s eyes were wide with wonder. “From a castle? It’s like the fairy stories my dad told me. I can’t believe my roommate is a princess!”
She hopped up onto her bed and jumped up and down on it. “Come on!” she called to Ceri.
Ceri didn’t know what to do. Ana was bouncing on the bed like a child, giddy with joy. Ceri hadn’t felt that kind of freedom—well, ever. If she had ever bounced on a bed, she couldn’t remember it. Her childhood was basically repetition after repetition of the word “no.”
“Ceri, or should I say ‘Princess Ceridwen,’ don’t leave me to jump alone! You’re pretty small. It won’t hurt the bed. Come on!”
Ceri moved towards the bed. Ana paused long enough to help her up.
It was difficult to balance on the mattress, but Ceri just managed it.
