‘We should pull it back,’ the older one suggested.
‘No,’ Sonya said, reaching for her hair. ‘I prefer it down.’
It was easier to hide her face that way, if she needed to.
Basma chewed on her bottom lip. ‘Well, we can at least add some oil. It’ll help the curls stay shiny and keep them from tangling.’
She rubbed coconut oil in her hands, then ran her hands through Sonya’s hair.
‘Do you have gloves?’ Basma asked.
‘Tell me you have gloves,’ Arwa pleaded.
‘Erm…’
The girls sighed, exasperated. ‘But your hands!’ It was true that Sonya’s hands had seen better days.
‘We could use a nourishment mask?’ Arwa suggested.
‘Awhat?’
But the girls were on a mission. ‘That’s a great idea!’ They returned with a small pot of delicious-smelling cream and lathered it onto Sonya’s hands. It was thick and squidgy, and sat on top of her hands like another layer.
‘Is it…meant to be like this?’ Sonya asked. She couldn’t even separate her fingers.
‘You have to leave it on for ten minutes and then wash it off,’ Basma explained. ‘It’ll leave your hands perfectly smooth and soft.’
Sonya lifted her hands to her nose, inhaling the scent of lavender and hyssop. ‘Splendid,’ she said. ‘Am I ready yet?’ Her gaze strayed to the clock. It was nearly time to go!
‘Yes, yes, you’re ready!’
Sonya stood, and they ushered her toward a standing mirror, letting her see the final effect.
‘Oh!’ Sonya smiled. She did look very pretty. The curls fell perfectly and the make-up enhanced her sharp facial features. ‘Thank you, girls. How ever can I repay you?’
‘Promise you’ll tell us all about the wedding tonight?’ the older sister asked. ‘We want to hear every single detail!’
‘Yes, of course.’ Sonya couldn’t help but smile, their excitement was contagious. ‘Now, I really must go!’
She headed for the door, then realized her dilemma. The girls giggled, opening the door for her. They helped her upstairs, where they knocked on her door.
When Azam opened the door, he went still, his jaw slack. His eyes were wide as he took her in. Sonya’s heart skipped a beat at the expression on his face.
The girls giggled, pushing her in.
‘Sonya, you look…’ He trailed off, at a loss for words. ‘Beautiful is too small a word.’
He touched a finger to her hair, as if he couldn’t help himself.
‘It doesn’t look silly?’ she asked.
‘No, not at all.’ He swallowed, taking back his hand. He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. ‘If you’re ready, we should head down.’ He glanced at the clock, which was about to strike eleven, the time their carriage was meant to pick them up.
‘Yes, I just need to—’ She kicked off her shoes and reached for her stockings, only to remember the cream on her hands.
Azam noticed as well, furrowing his brow. ‘What on earth is on your hands?’ he asked.
‘It’s cream,’ she replied. ‘The girls insisted—they said it would make my hands heavenly soft.’
