Shadows in the Trees: Book 1

Chapter 54

Rhiannon moaned quietly as she fumbled with the mangled braid she had created, unsuccessfully trying to pin it behind her head. She had never done her own hair before. The ache in her chest was fierce as she thought of Kala and how deftly she had woven her hair into intricate styles. 

The scouts were supposed to return today, and all of the council was to gather to hear their reports. Rhiannon and Jaida were invited as well. She frowned at her simple dress, bare face, and messy hair. It felt strange to look so plain for a public appearance. She missed her wigs, her makeup, her extravagant clothes, even the sticky hassenite paint on her skin. 

Someone banged on the door. "Petunia! What is taking you so long? You better be sick, or dying, or taking the biggest shite ever."

Rhiannon opened the door to find a bedraggled Coretta with her fist poised to strike the door again. When she saw Rhiannon, the color drained from her face. 

"Oh! I am so sorry, Queen Rhiannon. I thought you were Petunia," she said, bowing awkwardly. 

Ever since Jaida told her family who she really was, they had walked on eggshells around her. Though it could be awkward, she enjoyed being treated as royalty again. She much preferred it to being covered in mud and insulted constantly by Jubil and Vess.

Rhiannon smiled graciously. "It's alright." 

Coretta raised an eyebrow at the state of her hair. "Do you . . . do you need some help?" 

Rhiannon pressed her lips together. Though she hated to admit it, she couldn't do this herself.

"Yes, please," she said. "I have not had much practice styling my own hair." 

"It can be difficult to do it on yourself," Coretta said politely, following Rhiannon as she sat back down on the stool. "What would you like me to do?" 

Rhiannon remembered a way Kala had used to style it and described it to Coretta. "Can you do that?" 

"It would be my honor, your grace," Coretta said. 

She looked tense as she brushed her hair, erasing the mess Rhiannon had made. Every time the brush caught on Rhiannon's hair the girl winced. 

"Who taught you to braid?" Rhiannon asked as Coretta began weaving a plait. She hoped some conversation would relax the girl. 

"My mother taught me," she said. Her brow creased as she intertwined one braid with a new one she had created. "You, um, have lovely hair." 

Rhiannon laughed lightly. "That's sweet of you to say. I never liked my hair much."

Her eyes widened. "Why? It's so long, and very soft."

"It's such a plain brown," she complained, frowning at herself in the mirror. "You and Jaida have such a beautiful shade of black. And my sister," she said, rolling her eyes. "She had incredible red hair. Like flames licking down her back." 

"Red hair?" she said, wrinkling her nose. "Aren't redheads usually odd-looking?" 

"Not her. It helped her stand out. And red, it is a sacred color to my people. Red hair is a sign she was blessed by the gods." 

At the mention of gods, she seemed to withdraw for a moment. 

"So you have a sister?" she said when the silence became too thick. 

"Three sisters," Rhiannon said. "And five brothers." 

"Wow," Coretta said. "That's a lot of siblings. I just have Petunia." 

"What about your brothers? Mila's children?" 

"They're not my brothers. We don't have the same mother."