Prologue
A women bustles around a younger woman with long, deep pink hair. She has a rather melancholy look about her as she perches on a stool before the small mirror. She's dressed in a white blouse paired with a light blue, middle length skirt.
"Shame really," she says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "I'll miss it."
A girl, leaning against the wall with a casual demeanor, giggles, "Right. Leila's going off a a spying mission, and the biggest thing she's worried about is that we're cutting her hair," she laid a hand over her forehead, drooping in a pretended swoon, "Save her!"
Leila tossed the stool's cushion at her, "Elle!"
The girl was hit squarely with the pillow, but she just laughed at her friend's feigned anger, "Do we really have to cut it though?"
Leila's head whipped around.
"I mean, Matthew's bound to miss it," the girl finished, a grin lighting her face.
"Adelle!"
The girl grimaced, "Ouch, full name," she rubs her heart with a wounded air.
The woman returns, a pair of scissors in her hand, and Leila frowns.
Adelle creeps up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, and her dark caramel eyes meet the pinkish-red ones of Leila's reflection in the mirror.
"Do be safe Leila," her voice lost the teasing lilt, and is now full-on sincere, "The Black Fang's not anything else we've heard of, and like nothing else you've done," she lifted a piece of the older girl's long hair, "If cutting this keeps you safe and looking like one of the crowd, my brother won't mind. Matthew won't say anything, but he's worried about you."
Leila doesn't speak, but a hint of a smile warms her face, she turns to say something to Adelle, but the younger girl is gone, nothing but a yellow bundle left on the floor where she'd stood.
"Ready to begin, dear?" asks the woman with the scissors, who'd let the two of them talk until they were done.
The woman on the stool nodded, and she remains silent until the rain of pinkish hair falling to the ground under the snip of the dancing scissors stopped. Only then did she care to look into the mirror again. Her hair now hugged her head, the right side longer then the left, and a long, angled bang covered her eye. The style was not one she'd pick out, but she had to say she didn't recognize herself, which was the point.
"We'll have to do something about your clothes too," says the woman, "Something with a darker colors and less extra fabric to get in your way," she patted the side of Leila's skirt, "You'll be tripping all over this, no good, no good at all."
She moved off without another word, shaking her head as she went. Leila stayed on the stool for a few minutes, feeling like a shorn sheep, until the woman came barreling back, an armful of dark purple material in her arms, and a pair of dark brown boots on top. As the younger woman went through the process of shifting into her new role, one of the many she'd assumed as a spy for House Ostia, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly she'd be asked to do. Standing there, in front of the mirror wearing darker, mysterious clothes that looked like they belonged on a thief. She was longing for color, and only then did she remembered the yellow bundle. The woman had left, complimenting herself on a job well done, when Leila picked up the yellow cloth. She shook it out, recognizing it as a short cloak. She whipped it around her shoulders, and a fluttering piece of white caught her eye. She crouched to pick it up, unfolding it as she stood again.
Leila,
I thought you'd be lonely in a mess of blacks, dark browns, and dark greys, so I bought you this. I won't say be safe, 'cause I know there's no such thing, but be smart. I'll miss you.
-Elle
The simple words, written with her young friend's sincerity, made her smile as she looked back at the new cloak. She pulled it off, then twisted it into a long, scarf-like bundle she replaced on her shoulders, liking the effect. She gave one last look into the mirror, and a flash of red filled the edge. She whirled around, hoping that it was who she thought it was, but, like before, there was nothing there but a folded note, though it seemed much longer then the other one.