Charlotte sat on the ground near the fire pit with her legs folded comfortably beneath her, slowly running her fingers through her now-dried curls as if she had all the time in the world.
The firelight caught the dark strands and gave them a soft reddish glow whenever she moved, and though the hollow chamber was still rough, cold, and dim, Charlotte behaved as though she had claimed it as a private room rather than a temporary shelter in one of the most dangerous zones of Nalim.
She tilted her head from side to side, working through the thicker portions of her hair with deliberate care before humming in satisfaction at how much easier it felt now that the dampness had been drawn out.
Then, without looking at Liam at first, she said, "You know, I'm actually surprised. I thought you were going to burn my hair off by accident, but you handled it like some professional hairdresser hiding inside a gloomy little assassin."
