Page 59 of Upon Buried Embers
Is it a trick?
It’s weirdly intimate, the way he touches my hair, like each strand means something. I get lost in it, braiding the mane almost in a trance.
Then his fingers graze the tip of my ear, not by mistake. He does it again and again, and a whimper escapes me.
He pauses at the sound, but then continues. My stomach flips in a strange way.
My ears are sensitive, and I assume it’s an elf thing.
I try to move forward a little, to get him to stop, but a hand on my waist stops me.
I look down at it.
It spans my whole left side, his fingers grazing just shy of my navel.
“Still.”
My fingers curl into the mane, and I go as fast as I can, working each strand. Poorly.
When I’m just about finished, Rohan places my hair over my shoulders, grazing my ear one last time before he steps away, taking his heat with him.
I look down at my hair, and instead of one singular braid like Tofa did, this is two separate braids, one each over my shoulders, and two small ones weaving into it.
It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen hair this way, not even on the other Dragorie.
“I—” I turn to thank him, but stop at the look in his eyes.
It’s something I’ve never seen before, something I’m not sure I understand.
“Better than before, but not up to my standard. You will practice when we’re back in my cabin.” It takes me a moment for his words to register, and I realize he’s talking about Serah’s mane.
“Okay.”
“Come.”
I follow behind him and we trail through the settlement as people greet him, nodding their respect while I’m ignored.
But then a child comes up to me.
She has blonde, curly hair, little braids intertwined while the rest lays on her shoulders.
“You ave points on yor eywers,” she says, looking at my ears.
I freeze, looking at Rohan for help. He just folds his arms, watching us with a stern expression.
“Um, yes.” I crouch down to her level.
“I wants points.” She reaches up and touches my ears, smiling widely, her blue eyes bright and full of innocence.
I let her touch my ears, no matter how sensitive they are, while she giggles.
“I like dem,” she determines, touching her own ears now.
“I like your ears too,” I hesitate before tapping her gently on the nose with a soft smile.
“You do?”
“Yes, very much so. And I like your hair, it’s very pretty.”
