Qingran shifted her weight, her eyes fixed on the water spirit who seemed to shimmer in the glow of the lake.
Mirabel's expression was serene, but something about her silence told Qingran that nothing here came freely. She drew in a cautious breath.
"What's your price?" Qingran asked at last, her voice steady though curiosity tugged at the edges of her words. "What do you want in return for helping us?"
Mirabel's lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. She swirled her hand through the water, and droplets rose like pearls, shimmering and spinning in the air as though gravity had forgotten them. "Simple." she said softly, her gaze locking onto Qingran with startling clarity. "A single strand of your hair."
Qingran blinked. "My… hair?"
