I had noticed earlier how Xeldon kept stealing glances at me while we were having breakfast. His eyes would flicker in my direction, then quickly look away, as if he thought I wouldn’t catch him.
So when we finished eating and I stepped into the garden, it didn’t surprise me when he followed.
“Sister,” he called out, amusement lacing his voice, “you look older with your new hairstyle.”
I stopped and turned to him with a frown. “You just don’t want to admit that I look beautiful with my new hair.”
He paused, studying me more carefully this time, his gaze almost thoughtful. “You are beautiful,” he said. “You just look worse because you use laundry bar soap when you bathe. These days, there are better soaps that actually make your skin glow.”
I blinked at him. “I don’t know whether I sho
