Elara
I glanced down at my hair, running my fingers through the strands carefully, trying to see what Grace found so offensive about it. Sure, it had been years since I’d had a proper haircut, and my curls might’ve been a little unruly around the ends, but I didn’t think they were ‘awful’ by any stretch of the imagination.
Still, after the morning’s fiasco and Alaric’s warning at the picnic, I decided it wasn’t worth fighting her on this particular point. If she wanted me to get my hair done, I’d let her pay for it. I could at least try to salvage something out of this humiliation—maybe get a trim that would flatter my curls instead of hiding them.
“I’ll go,” I said, forcing a pleasant tone. “Lead the way.”
Grace just sniffed, tossing her head as she turned on her heel. Sh
