I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just stared at my feet.

“Sioni, if there’s anything you should ever need – anything at all – do not hesitate to ask.”

I looked up at him, wanting to trust him, wanting to tell him everything. But how to tell this tale of witches and curses and hair that could never be cut? It was absurd! He would probably think I was a lunatic. It’s a wonder I didn’t think I was a lunatic.

All I could do was smile and thank him.

Before he left, he removed an envelope that he had tucked in his sleeve and handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, turning it over in my hand. It was edged with gilt and my name was written on the front in flowery script.

“An invitation to my ball. I would love it if you could attend.”

My brilliant response? “You should go. It’s getting late.”

Then I let down my hair for him and he climbed back down into the garden. Before he left, though, he plucked a fat red rose from a bush and tossed it up into my window.

I cried myself to sleep that night.