The hairdresser was pulling my hair.
"Ouch," I said when she pulled it a bit too strongly. Again. For the fifth time.
"I'm sorry, Miss Morad," the hairdresser said. "It's just hard to put your hair into a suitable updo. It's so stubborn, like all magical hair. If you just let us use extensions…"
"No extensions," I said, firmly. I had enough weight on my hair as it was.
Besides, what's wrong with my hair? It might not be that long, but it's perfectly alright. It's smooth and black, easy to put into a ponytail or a simple bun. But a simple bun or braid would not do, according to Yllana, who asked me who I hired for my hair and makeup a week before the ball.
"Nobody," I said. "I can do it myself. I almost got the hang of magical makeup."
I did. It wasn't too different from ordinary make
