Sei tugs on a strand of hair. “I don’t care what color you dye it, then. Surprise me.”
Clem’s eyes light up, and Marek growls. “Surprise him with something thatlooks good.”
“Right, right.” Clem deflates, then perks up again. “The wedding’s next month. I’ll pick something that will grow out nicely with black roots.”
Clem sorts through their dye bottles, holding a few up to the light. Sei avoids Marek’s gaze but knows he’s not alone in his sudden tension. He had forgotten the wedding too, about to tell Clem that he doesn’t care if he looks good or not.
“Got it!” Clem exclaims. “Get comfortable. This is going to take a while.”
Sei’s experience in meditation comes in handy. Dyeing his hair takes much longer than he expected, considering that his hair barely reaches past his chin. Marek comes and goes throughout the procedure, and Osric arrives once to both comment disparagingly and praise Sei for making his own decisions.
Clem works carefully, brushing layers of dye into Sei’s hair. Occasionally they make Sei bend backwards over the sink so they can rinse some out, then they towel out the water and continue. The process involves a lot of touching, which makes Sei nervous at first. Thankfully, Clem’s hands don’t inspire nearly the same reactions as Marek’s.
Sei almost doesn’t believe it when Clem claps their hands and says, “You’re done!”
They give Sei a hand-mirror, and Sei gasps.
His hair is a perfect gradient, deep midnight blue at the roots, fading through brighter blue to pure white at the tips. The colors are unreal, but when Sei touches his hair, it feels the same as ever. Soft, still damp from the last rinse.
That’s really him in the mirror—Sei Mallory, clearly disobeying his guildmasters. Regretting nothing.
“It’s fine if you hate it,” Clem says.
“I love it!” Sei turns his head with a thrilling swish of his new hair. “I love it so much.”
“Let me see,” Marek says from the doorway.
Sei hadn’t heard Marek come in. He lets Marek take the mirror, and Marek touches Sei’s chin.
The slightest brush of Marek’s callused fingertips ignites Sei’s every nerve. Completely unlike the hours Sei just spent under Clem’s hands. Perhaps unlike anyone else’s touch in the entire world.
Marek turns Sei’s head back and forth. “Looks good,” he says quietly, and Sei’s face heats. “Come out onto the balcony. You should see it in the light.”
He takes Sei’s hand, and Sei feels like he’s floating through the lounge, all the way out onto the balcony. Late afternoon sun blossoms around them. Marek hands Sei the mirror again.
“Oh, wow,” Sei breathes.
The gradient is so much more intense in the sunlight, from the cloud-white tips to the midnight roots. The roots are the same color as Marek’s hair, but they don’tmatch.They’re clearly connected, but different.
“Clem does great work,” Marek says.
Sei can’t contain his giddy smile. “You too. You remembered I wanted this.”
Marek shrugs, strangely bashful. “You’re not the only one who can listen.”
Gratitude surges through Sei, so intense it tastes like adoration. He sways half a step forward, then catches himself. Lifting the mirror gives Sei the excuse to look away.
Oh, no. I actually like him.
Sei turns his head as if inspecting every angle of his new hair—but he sees none of it. He’s too stunned by the unbearable urge to kiss his betrothed.
?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Marek
Silver clouds stream around them, obscuring the Ostomar canyon below. Marek took to the skies to clear his head, but his thoughts remain just as murky as they were on the ground. He claimed Sei Mallory a month ago, and he’s no closer to escaping the betrothal. The solution seems as distant as the canyon floor.
