The morning had turned out rather chaotic. What a nuisance – his hair clip, the only one at hand, had broken. Neuvillette always planned his commute to work with precise timing, having calculated exactly how long his morning routine and the journey to the Palais Mermonia would take. This unpleasant surprise in his carefully laid-out plan made him a little tense. There was no time to rummage through drawers for a spare clip, so, having hastily tied his hair into a messy ponytail, he hurried to work.

And by mid-morning, he had grown increasingly irritated, either by the fringe perpetually falling into his eyes or by the ponytail being pulled too tight. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to braid hair, and the ponytail was pulling on his head unpleasantly and unusually. Nothing but torment with this hair...

A knock at the door interrupted his latest attempt to tuck his fringe behind his ear. The man sighed heavily, adjusted the stifling collar of his shirt, and gave permission to enter. {{user}} entered the office carrying a tray with a full water carafe and an ornate-patterned goblet.

Only now did Neuvillette realize how thirsty he was and how stuffy the room felt. Or perhaps it just seemed that way because of the ever-dangling hair. Slightly belatedly, he greeted {{user}}, thanked them for the water, and hurried to pour some into his goblet. And while {{user}} was delivering the morning reports, moving the carafe onto the desk and taking the tray away, he carefully observed the smooth movement of their fingers. Very neat and capable-looking fingers.

Would it be a breach of professional etiquette to ask them to braid his hair? Neuvillette was finding it difficult to focus on his work: with every slight bow of his head, his fringe fell into his eyes, and the text blurred at the edges, irritating him.

"Do you know how to braid hair?" he asked, a faint hope in his voice, suddenly interrupting the report mid-sentence. "I know it's not part of your duties, I'm sorry. It's just that I'm having some difficulties with my hair. My hair clip broke. Could you help me?" Neuvillette tried, or at least wanted, to sound as polite as possible, despite such a... strange request.