"Do you want braids?" Malachi asked her.
"You can make braids?"
"I am two-hundred and forty-two years old. You seem to forget." He drawled.
"Perhaps because you don't act your age," she told him.
So she woke up as the lioness it seemed.
He divided her hair into two sections to make the braid.
"I should probably cut my hair," she said noticing it had grown too long and was difficult to take care of.
"I like it long," he said.
"Even more reason to cut it."
This woman. He knew after last night she would try to resist him more.
"You didn't tell me you were inventing things again?"
She paused looking up at him through the mirror. "Don't worry. It is no weapons. Although if you decide to take me as your queen I should make those too."
He frowned.
"To protect your clan, I mean." She said. "After all, those weapons were made for protection."
