Red tie wrapped around her wrist, Tailtiu combed her hair with her fingers. Claud held her tomes. "You would be more comfortable at home, child."
She doubted it. "Who's gonna look out for you if I go back? Besides, this is nothing new. I brush my own hair at home."
"Do you?"
"Well, most of the time. Sometimes my sister does." Loose, her hair flopped over her eyes. "How 'bout you, Father?"
"I groom myself." Familiar with Claud's fair face, she saw it — sat at his priestly vanity, brush dangling from his long fingers, just like her.
"Well, that's funny!"