It’s always painful, having to have the stylists pull on my dark curly hair, as they brush and braid it for all the events.

I’m wearing a similar-shaded dress to the one I wore when I first met Steadholder Harrington, to the ball celebrating her resurrection. I still remember meeting her for the first time, at age three, just after my grandfather, the Reverend Hanks, died saving her. She had her treecat with her, I thought it was cute.

I know the braids will make it go well with the collar on the dark purple dress, like Mama Rebecca has told me too many times.

Tonight, I’m going to be introduced to the Protector. I hope I don’t mess up… A yank of the brush pulls me out of my thoughts.