I drop to one knee behind her, feeling the warmth of her back through the thin fabric. In the semi-darkness of the fencing hall, where the air smells of steel, lacquered wood, and a faint hint of lavender, her hair spreads in silky waves in my palms. I brush it slowly with the comb, savoring the softness, letting my fingers linger a little longer than they should.

The quiet hum of my melody dissolves into the air, and I lean closer every now and then, breathing in her scent-something sweet, warm, invisible that slips away when you try to catch it. "Princess, you need to learn how to tie your hair yourself," I say softly, taking my time gathering it into a high ponytail.

I deftly fasten the rubber band, running my palm over the smooth strands, removing the last of the unruly curls. When I'm done, I touch my lips to the top of her head-a fleeting, barely noticeable touch, but enough to make her pause.

"Done..." I say, sliding my fingers down her shoulders. "Now let's see if you can use your hair in battle."