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“Are we worrying about how the mate will feel about a haircut?” she checked.
It was my turn to snort. “It’smyhair.”
Lavee’s grin returned. “Precisely my thoughts. You ready now, or should we wait?”
“I’ve got nothing to wait for,” I said with a shrug.
The words sounded even sadder aloud than they had in my mind.
Luckily, no one called me out on the words or asked me to explain. Or tried to comfort me.
Lavee led me into hers and Jesh’s room—ignoring his growl at our invasion of their space with an eye-roll toward me and Diora, like we knew what kind of a possessive bastard she was dealing with.
We all crowded into the moderately-sized bathroom. It was only half as big as the one in the room I’d been assigned to, and wasn’t nearly as luxurious, but I wasn’t going to point that out. It only emphasized the connection between us that I wasn’t sure I wanted to think about.
“How short are you thinking?” Lavee had me stand in front of her, in the mirror. I was enough shorter than her that I didn’t think she would even need me to sit or kneel.
“Gone,” I said, surprising myself with the word but not changing my mind. “I want all of it gone.”
Lav’s lips curved upward. “Transformation time?”
I needed to feel completely in control, which I hadn’t in a long time.
Honestly, had I ever?
Before Espen’s magic had become a part of me, I’d been trapped in my parents’ home, too sick to really make my own decisions. After that, I’d been tortured for two decades. In the short time I’d been free after we escaped, I’d been traveling to Espen’s part of the land, and had been focused completely on my plan to end his life, and the training I needed to throw a knife well enough to do so. And then I’d been in his cushy prison.
So no, I had never been free to control my life in any way, shape, or form.
Maybe if I cut it all, if I was free of the tangled strands that had grown drier and more broken as the years had continued to pass and time had continue to spin, I would feel like I could move on.
It wasn’t likely, but I could hope, right?
I wasn’t really a hopeful person, but I did understand the benefit of the feeling.
“Do you have an idea of what you want it to look like?” Lavee’s fingers moved the strands around, like she was analyzing my head or something.
“No. I just don’t want to look like…” I trailed off.
Because I knew the answer.
I didn’t want to look like the girl I’d been in my parents’ castle, who knew her life could fade into nothing at any passing moment.
I didn’t want to look like the girl I’d seen in the distorted mirror in my torturers chambers.
I didn’t want to look like the sad, scarred woman staring back at me in the mirrors in the inns I’d stopped at on my way to the castle.
I didn’t want to look likeme.
A fresh start… maybe that was what this haircut could be for me.
Stars, I hoped so.
“I‘ve got an idea. Do you want to hear it, or be surprised?” Lavee checked.
“Let’s make it a surprise.”
Lavee had me take a few steps back, then turned my back to the mirror. Her mate, Jesh, dragged a chair in, and I sat after her instruction.
