Page 151 of Scourged

A heavy pause filled the room.

“Just your brother’s, then?”

She shot her gaze back up to meet his in the mirror. His smile had softened, as had his expression.

Mariah only hummed low in her chest and turned back to his hair. It was quite long, the longest it’d been since she’d met him.It had always fallen a bit errantly but there was a sort of reason to the madness. Messy, yet polished. Tousled, yet groomed. Never past his ears, never reaching his brow.

Now, the onyx strands brushed against his neck. His ears were nearly concealed behind black, and it fell into his eyes.

“Who normally cuts your hair?” She didn’t ask what she really wanted to. She looked in the mirror, flinching away when she found him watching her.

Why askmeto cut it?

“Since moving to the palace? There are plenty of barbers in the market district; they aren’t too hard to find.”

“And why didn’t you go find one before today?”

A shrug. “Not sure, princess. Maybe I was looking to change some things.”

Her chest squeezed. There was so much behind that statement. So many unspoken words, so many unasked questions. She nodded, not meeting his gaze.

“You were right, by the way.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an eyebrow lift. “Oh? About what?”

She cleared her throat. “About my brother.” She dared a glance. Held it. Let herself fall into his stare. “He’s the only one whose hair I’ve cut. Our mother worked long hours at the clinic, and our father would’ve tried, but … that was a terrifying idea. So I learned to cut Ellan’s hair, and he learned to cut mine.” She squeezed her fingers around the scissors, the cool metal slowly warming in her palm. “Although I hardly ever let him take any off mine. I loved my long hair.”

She could feel him in the silence, weighing what to say next.

“I love the short hair, too.”

Mariah smiled. “So do I.”

She took one last half-step closer to him. The tips of her slightly shaking fingers brushed against the black strands of his hair.

His forearms clenched. A muscle feathered in his jaw.

A smile tugged at her lips. Emboldened, she dove her fingers deeper into his hair.

It was softer than she remembered. Like strands of silk. Black as night, dark as the shadows that exist opposite every bright light. She ran her hands through its length, pulling it back from his face and away from his ears. She stood behind him, tapping the scissors against her palm as she met his gaze in the mirror.

Pained. His expression waspained. And desperate. Holding so much back.

Something surged in her.

Something like … excitement.

She gripped the scissors loosely, the metal now familiar. Flashes of memory painted her minds’ eye: sitting outside by the firepit with her brother, snipping bits of dark auburn hair as he spoke of his friend’s antics, or told a story about finding a quiet brook deep within the Ivory Forest. Of wanting to bring the pretty girl with yellow-blonde hair who lived down the road there with him. How the wildflowers that grew along its bank would look so lovely woven into her curls.

“Mariah.” Andrian’s soft voice pulled her from her thoughts. She blinked, her hand still wrapped around the scissors.

He met her gaze with a smile. “I trust you. I … I just want you to know that.”

She smiled at him a little shyly, nodded, and with a deep inhale made the first cut.

“You know,princess, it doesn’t look half bad.”

“‘Half bad?’” Mariah scoffed, setting down her scissors. She stepped back and rested her hip against the bathroom counter before crossing her arms and cocking her head, a faint smile on her lips. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked better.”

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