“I am sorry. You need to cut it off,” I clarify, and he growls.
“Absolutely not,” he replies simply. Firmly.
Melisa stands at my side. “Come now, I think you’d look handsome with short hair.”
His blazing eyes land on her.
She smiles and flutters her long, curly lashes at him.
Without another word, he grabs a knife from his waistband, takes his long black rope braid in his hand, and slices off the strands at the base. A blunt sheath of black hair falls to his chin, but it doesn’t look unpleasant. It adds to the general ruggedness of his appearance.
Everyone around me stills as they stare at the braid hanging limply in his hand. My throat tightens, and a sad silence tracksthe movements with deep intensity. Then the black hair fades back to silver.
While I know that hair has great significance, I don’t understand the emotion. I make a note to speak to Teo about it later.
“Once again, I’m sorry, Ra’Sa,” I say after a moment.
He straightens his back. “I am already conspicuous because of my height. You were right—it is best to blend in.”
“You should place your hair in your home, friend,” my mate says, appearing at my side.
Ra’Sa nods and leaves the hall, but Melisa tracks his movements far longer than a casual interest would dictate.
“Men are so easy to bend,” she says after a few moments.
I look at her. “You’ll behave as the two of you travel together?”
She looks at me. “Me? I have no idea what you mean.”
I smirk. “I wouldn’t touch him if I were you; you’d eat him alive.”
She bites her lip. “No. I won’t touch him—he’d never let me anyway. Good men don’t want someone like me.”
Frowning, I take her by the hand. “First, you must be delirious. Of course they would.”
She avoids my gaze and gives me a noncommittal hmm.
I squeeze her hand. “Second, do you have everything you need?”
She blinks as if exiting a daydream. “I—I think so.”
I reach into my pocket with my other hand and pull out the red beryl I took from the scrying grotto. Pulling back her fingers, I place it in her palm. “I know you don’t feel the songs as strongly yet, as you still don’t have your Fuegorra, but this will help you. Sing to it—think of us. Come back soon.”
For the first time, I see fear flicker in her eyes. There is a worry there that she hasn’t seen before.
“I—“ she trails off. I squeeze her hand tighter. “Eneko is going to be furious.”
“You’ll come home with Ra’Sa. And I’ll take you down to the caves to perform thedual´moraan. You’ll come home and have a family,” I say as if I were invoking the ear of every god in the universe. She would be a fool to think a good man wouldn’t want her. She’s brave, beautiful, and kind.
Her eyes glisten. I touch my hand to her forehead, begin to murmur the words of safety that I know. She has no Fuegorra to speak to, but she has a friendship that cracks open a window to her deepest soul.
She presses her forehead to me as I see her cry for the first time.
“You know, you don’t have to go,” I say as Iryth and Arlet come to join the hug.
She shakes her head. “You have your family—I have…” she trails off. “I have my things.”
Her answer is strange and guarded, but I hug her anyway.
