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“That’s not cheating. It’s just magic art.” So he can’t do it, but he wants to look anyway.

Ulla laughs. "I sing most of my clothes from scraps of fabric, with flowers or leaves for the color." All of her gowns started off as bits and pieces, but Ulla didn't sew them.

She opens one of the trunks, pulling out long silk dresses in rich jewel tones, jewelry woven and braided from what looks like sleek black thread, framing stone cabochons, dotted with tiny iridescent pearls.

"You... you made all these?" Gowns his mother would even be jealous of. "Did you add the jewels the same way you arrange the stones and shells on the wall? Where did you get them?" He reaches out to touch one of them, then hesitates, like someone whose mother has warned them many times against such a thing, then looks at her uncertainly. "...May I?"

"Of course," Ulla tells him. She didn't invite him to rummage through her clothes with the intention of forbidding him to touch any of them. She picks up one of the necklaces. "The stone is woven and knotted into place, see? Thread wrapped tightly enough around it that it doesn't need a hole drilled through it. Same as a metal setting, but I don't wear anything that rusts or tarnishes. And I make beads of the pearls so I can string them."

Getting the stones was probably the easiest part. "I sang all of the jewels; objects are much easier than anything alive. And the thread started off as my hair."

He looks up sharply as his fingertips touch the fabric.

"You made the thread from your hair?"

Ulla tilts her head. "Yes. Is there something wrong with that?"

His eyes go wide. This was where everything slid sideways with Justine.

“NO!” He frowns at himself. “No. No. It’s actually exactly what I’m looking for. Actually.”

"I'm not... offended, I just didn't know why you reacted that way." She didn't mean to worry him.

"Why are you looking for it?"

"Because Will asked me to marry him, but we already gave each other rings and we both feel like it's... dulling the impact if we just pretend to give them to each other again. The initial gifting was very meaningful. So I thought of this idea to give each other something else that we can wear, that would last and be a visible reminder... and then I saw Justine talking about making things out of hair and I was going to ask her to make bracelets that each have both my hair and his in them... but she hates me and also I didn't know you could do this. If I knew that, I would have always come to you. It's better to come from family, right?" Malcolm explains.

A slow smile spreads over her face as Malcolm speaks.

"I'd be honored," she tells him, soft and sincere. If this request came from anyone, she would have expected it to come from Will. It's startling that Malcolm is the one asking. That he's offering up this request, and including her in something that matters so deeply. It's a feeling that feels almost too precious and delicate to touch, like the most finely carved shell

"I'm new to... family that I feel unreservedly good about, but certainly better from someone who cares than with bad feeling attached."

"Right? I was trying to make peace, too, because I guess when I first asked her about the art form, some of my questions offended her," Malcolm explains. "And John."

"What sorts of questions?" Ulla asks, brow furrowed slightly.

He hesitates. "...Like if she routinely works with strangers' hair, then how does she make that... sanitary? I didn't want to get wedding jewelry infested with some sort of disease or pest," Malcolm admits quietly.

"There don't seem to be many problems with that on the Barge," Ulla points out. "But cleaning spells are some of the easiest."

"Yes, well. She's informed me that I'm a disgusting person and everyone thinks so, so." He shrugs. He fidgets with a bead on one of the dresses, smoothing his thumb over it. "Where did you get... the beads and stones and stuff?" he asks.

"She has no right to speak for everyone," Ulla tells him, a vicious, protective edge to the words. "And she's also wrong."

But her hands are gentle as she reaches for his, tipping them palm up so they're cupped in front of him. "Do you have a favorite stone? Or does Will?"

He smiles at her assertion. There aren't many people that defend him like that.

He holds his hands where she puts them.

"...Does Will? I don't know. ......I should find out, right?" But he files that for now, because she's trying to show him something. "Um... how about a star sapphire?"

"Does Will know you're asking?" Ulla wonders. Because if it's supposed to be a surprise, they'll have to be more careful. "Not me, of course, since even you didn't know you'd be asking me. But looking for this in general."

But since Malcolm answered, she'll go ahead and show him. She sings a few wordless verses, Hjerte joining in just for fun, even though Ulla could manage this alone. And three star sapphires appear in Malcolm's hands, each a slightly different size.

He stares at them a moment. "You just make them?" He pauses and looks up at her, processing her question. "Oh! Will doesn't know. I don't think he does. I want to surprise him."

"Then you'd have to be very careful finding out," Ulla points out. "Will is observant, and it's not the sort of question you'd normally ask, is it?"

“…No.” Good point. Or he’d know already. “What do you suggest?”

"I could ask," Ulla offers. "It would probably be less suspicious coming from me."

He grins. “Yeah? And then we can integrate a combination of my hair and his hair and my stones and his stones in both bracelets?” He pauses his examination of one of the stones to look at her. “Do you think you can get him to give you a piece of his hair too?”

"Does he have a brush?" Ulla wonders. "I could clean the hair from that, if you want me to. Otherwise, I suppose I can try telling him I use hair in spells sometimes and ask if he would mind giving me some. It isn't quite a lie, I will be using it in a spell. Just, a spell to make something for the two of you."

“I can steal hair from his brush,” Malcolm muses. “How much do you need?”

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