"You can turn around now," MeiLan's soft voice informed him. With effort, Emilian released his grip on the windowsill and turned to find MeiLan trying to dry her hair with a scrap of linen that the Inn Keeper had provided. Without thinking, he moved toward her, took the cloth from her hands, and began using it to squeeze the water from her long hair.
"The water is still warm," she said, "and not too dirty. If you also want to bathe."
"That's a good idea," Emilian said. He reached for the comb and began running it through her still-damp hair, gently tugging through the tangles until it was straight and smooth. He trailed his fingers over it and then stopped. He brushed aside the hair at her temple, checking first one side, and then the other. "MeiLan, your hair has changed."
She twisted around trying to see what he was talking about. "Changed? How?"
