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Chapter Thirty-Two: Fragile

**

"How do you think it looks?"

My gaze turns to mother’s dress next to me on the bed.

It was a beautiful raspberry shade that would undoubtedly match her complexion and fit the theme of the small cocktail event.

Another gift from the Lycan King, even though my heart was not in the teen magazine, I made an effort to turn the page.

"Beautiful. You'll impress all those snooty-"

"Not the dress Alba; I mean my hair."

My gaze lifted to hers; a yellowish wig was on her head.

The colour was fine; I just hated it because it reminded me of the queen.

"Your hair is fine as is. But, I can style it if you want; I’ve been speaking with Ham-"

"I should bleach it, shouldn’t I?"

"Bleach, as in, alter its colour?"

I knew what she meant, but I played dumb, hoping that if she repeated herself, she would notice how she sounded.

"As in, turn it white, Alba."

She sounded unamused with my play at idiocy.

With a frown, I stood from the bed, placing the magazines to the side.

"You mean to resemble the queen,
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