Kings and Queens alike for centuries had grown out their hair for one event and one event only...
The declaration of war...
If a king or queen was to cut their hair and gift it to another monarch war had been declared and preparations on their part had already started...
Your kingdom small as it was had been a peaceful one, a small yet calm hold...Good people worked under your eyes and never once had war strucken you, there was never any reason for it to, your land was too small for the grabbing and your army wasn't too threatening...
But you were wrong.
Guards barged through your throne room doors apologizing deeply for disturbing you but claimed there was an urgent matter at hand
They ran to you and knelt before you handing you a sealed envelope with the Romanian crest...signed 'Ambrosius Vaughn'...But he was the Elven king of Romania, what reason could she have-
Once you opened it you froze...
... A lock of white hair was in the envelope...