Even though it was my day off, after Edie left, I felt a need to get out of my house. She gave me a lot to think about with her suggestion to ask Venan out on a date, but I was beginning to obsess just like I had after being abandoned on the dance floor at the wedding. So, in an effort to avoid spending my entire day off thinking about if I should ask Venan out or just wait around to see if he asked me, I decided I wouldn't have a day off at all and headed to my salon.

The other two girls were there, as there were always two available during the day hours. When they saw me enter, they greeted me, but there was little in the way of chatty conversation. I liked my co-workers, but we weren't what I would consider friends the way I considered Edie a friend. Usually, our interactions were limited to hello, goodbye, and discussions about clients; they certainly weren't people I would go to when I needed to vent.

Since it was my day off, I didn't have any clients booked, but I went to my chair anyway and began preparing my supplies as if I was about to have a very busy day. It was already halfway through the workday, and the salon closed when the night fell, but I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to sit in my house alone mulling over every possible detail of whatever my thing was with Venan, and Edie had left an hour ago because her Corporal was supposedly finished with his shift. As I set out my various combs and brushes, I realized with a wry smile that I didn't actually know his name. She never said it; she merely referred to him as her Corporal. I stifled a chuckle of amusement as I wondered if she even knew his name herself.

The door opened, and I looked up, hoping to see a walk-in without an appointment. I recognized the entrant at once. It was Phoebe, the bride at the wedding I'd attended with Edie. And, following closely behind her, was the groom, the A’li-uud whose face was identical to Venan’s.

My heart leaped into my throat. I might have left my house and come to work because I didn't want to think about Venan, but to see his brother come into my salon gave me a speck of hope I didn't realize I even had that he had a message for me from his twin. After all, the last time an A’li-uud had come in, it had been to tell me that Venan wanted me to come over for dinner.

“I don't have an appointment,” Phoebe said. Immediately, just as quickly as my heart had left, it sank. They weren't here with a message. “Would I still be able to get a cut today?”

The other two stylists were already working on clients, so I stepped forward to address the question. “Sure,” I told her. “Come on over.”

She walked to my chair, and I waited until she sat to flap the wrinkles from the cape and drape it across her torso. I tried to keep my attention on her, but I found myself desperately wanting to look at her husband in hopes of seeing recognition in his eyes. Even if they hadn’t come to tell me Venan wanted to see me again, it still would have been amazing to know he had talked to his brother about me. Luckily, Zuran rounded the chair in which Phoebe sat and leaned against my table of supplies. His arms were crossed across his chest, and a cocky grin lingered on his lips even though he had not spoken a word.

“It's been so long, I probably have a million split ends,” Phoebe said apologetically. “I don't know why, but ever since being on Albaterra, I just haven't made my hair a priority.”

“Well, I can take care of that for you,” I reassured her. I could feel Zuran’s stare on me even though I was looking down at Phoebe’s scalp as I combed my fingers through her hair and tugged on the ends to determine what I was working with.

“You’re Octavia, right?” Phoebe asked.

I flicked my eyes up to the mirror in front of her to see her looking back at me through it. “Yes,” I affirmed, my pulse quickening despite my better efforts. “How did you know?”

“You were at our wedding,” was her simple reply. “You came with Edie.”

“Oh.” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep the disappointment out of my voice. I tried to perk up, though, and added a little more cheerfully, “Yeah, I was her stand-in date until her real date got there.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you,” Phoebe went on.

Again, my pulse quickened, and I allowed myself a split-second glance at Zuran before looking back to Phoebe. “What about?” I asked. I was definitely hoping she had something to say regarding Venan because apparently, I was utterly obsessed with the Elder.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said. For the second time in less than a few minutes, my heart sank into my stomach, and I had to force myself to keep the smile on my face.

“Apologize? For what?” I hadn’t even formally met this woman in my life; what on Earth - or Albaterra - could she possibly have to apologize about?

“I should’ve asked you to do my hair for the wedding,” Phoebe explained, her reflection looking a little sheepish. “I was going to, but Edie griped about the Corporal not being able to come for the ceremony and that if I had you doing my hair, she’d be completely alone, so I didn’t. I should have, though. I couldn’t get the curls right.”

It was a far cry from anything I would’ve expected, but I couldn’t help myself from laughing. “Curls are tough here,” I agreed, drizzling a bit of water on her tresses. “Without curling irons, it can feel like being back in the Renaissance period or something.”

“Yeah, and they all had curls!” she exclaimed good-naturedly.

I laughed again, and she joined me. Still, I felt Zuran’s eyes on me, and a flick in his direction revealed his arrogant smirk had spread to a grin of smug pleasure. I couldn’t hold myself back anymore from addressing him so, as I ran a comb through Phoebe’s hair, I asked him casually, “How does it feel to be married?”

He didn’t blink or tilt his head or in any way indicate he’d heard me, let alone intended to answer me, and I felt a whiff of awkwardness suddenly develop. Then, without preface, he said, “I trust you will find out for yourself soon enough.”

Phoebe’s foot swung out from under the poncho and made contact with his shin, but he didn’t flinch. His phantasm eyes were glittering, though whether it was with malice or amusement, I couldn’t tell.

“What?” I croaked, my voice going hoarse in my startled state.

“Don’t mind him,” Phoebe hurriedly interjected, shaking her head and slipping the hairs I’d delicately pinched between my fingers from my hold. “He likes to say things to get under people’s skin.”

If it hadn’t been for the glare of warning I saw her cast him through the mirror, I probably would’ve been able to let it go. After seeing her sharp look, however, I was more engrossed than ever. “But why would I know what married life is like soon?” I insisted.

“Did you not have dinner with my dear brother?” Zuran asked, quirking a pale brow.

I flushed again, this time with a surprising amount of embarrassment. As much as I’d hoped he’d have come in to tell me Venan wanted to see me again, my old-fashioned ways were still very much present, and I wasn’t the type of girl who generally wanted the world to know my private life. Basically, I was contradicting and confusing myself for no reason at all.

“Yeah, I did,” I said. “But that was a week ago. How’d you know about that, anyway?”

“Warriors talk,” he replied with a grin.

I tried to hide my frown. It would’ve been a thrill to know Venan talked to his brother about me, especially as they were twins and so close, but, at the same time, maybe Venan was like me in the sense that he didn’t broadcast his personal life to the world. Then again, as a new Elder, maybe it was in his best interest to keep his personal life…well, personal.

“Dinner isn’t a proposal,” Phoebe pointed out. She said it to Zuran, but I had a sneaking suspicion she intended the message for me.

“No, but my brother has never had dinner with any female, unless you count my mother and sister,” Zuran argued.

This grabbed my attention. “Never?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine that. Venan didn’t strike me as a womanizing type of male, but most A’li-uud adults were over a hundred years old, and it seemed impossible to me that at no time over the course of a century he’d engaged in relations, casually or otherwise.

“Never,” Zuran reiterated. The humor was still present in his face, but his voice became slightly more serious as he continued, “You are the first, and, when Venan decides he likes something, he does not sway.”

And, just like that, I was on Cloud Nine.