I turned to Zelda, utterly confused. “What’s going on?”
She gave me a sympathetic look, then burst out laughing. “Oh, honey, you look like a decorated Solstice tree. No wonder Isaac panicked.”
“Great,” I mumbled, my suspicions confirmed. “I look terrible.”
“Not… terrible,” Zelda said, already moving to pull the pins from my hair. “Just not like you. And this is your celebration, after all.”
As she carefully dismantled the elaborate hairstyle, I felt the migraine that had set in begin to fade. When she removed the last pin, letting my hair tumble down around my shoulders, I let out an audible sigh of relief.
“Won’t the King be upset if I break from tradition?” I asked.
Zelda snorted as she moved to my closet. “My darling Uncle is a stickler for tradition, yes, but he
