Roxy had no choice but to cook.
Who wouldn’t when there was a predator in your nose, ready to eat you if you don’t?
The second batch of scallops hit the hot cast-iron skillet with a satisfying hiss, sending another plu of garlic-infused steam into the damp air of the cave.
Roxy flipped the shellfish perfectly, but her eyes were fixed on the terrifying, pale creature sitting on the coral chair.
Nimue was waiting for her al impatiently like a toddler. But while she waited, she was attempting to groom herself.
It was painful to watch.
Nimue had pulled her massive, floating mane of ink-black hair over her shoulder. It was a magnificent curtain of darkness against her skin. But up close, the damage was obvious. The hair was matted with grey sli, tangled with bits of crushed shell, and stiff from the relentless pressure and salt of the deep ocean.
I thought all rmaids knew how to take care of their hair?
[This is not Disney, Roxy. These are real rmaids who only hunt for food, mate, and live like other fish.]
Well, they could fucking start, look at the mass of that hair, if maintained, they would really look like Ariel and her sisters.
Nimue grimaced, her violet eyes narrowing. She dug her long claws into a particularly stubborn knot near the nape of her neck and yanked.
A cluster of hair broke off. Nimue hissed and tossed the broken strands onto the sand. She reached for another knot, her claws poised to rip through it with brute force.
That is so painful to watch.
Roxy grimaced as if she could feel it in her own scalp.
"Stop," Roxy said, waving the tongs. "Just... stop. You’re going to rip your scalp off doing that."
Nimue froze. She slowly turned her head, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I am grooming. It is necessary. The parasites hide in the tangles."
"That’s not grooming," Roxy countered, turning down the heat on the fire. She set the pan aside to cool. "That’s not how you handle hair that long. You’re breaking the strands. In a week, you’ll be bald, and then where will your Royal Majesty be?"
Nimue dropped her hair, looking affronted. "Trenchers do not go bald. We shed."
She rubbed her scalp, looking genuinely uncomfortable. For a second, the terrifying predator looked just like a girl having a bad hair day.
"Let help," Roxy offered with a sigh, wiping her hands on her already dirty tunic.
Nimue stiffened, her gills flaring slightly. She drew herself up to her full height, her white tail coiling defensively. "Do not touch the Royal Mane. My brother is the only one allowed to braid it for the hunts. Your soft hands will just get stuck."
"My soft hands have magic," Roxy lied smoothly.
A nu popped up. Roxy scrolled past the standard shampoos until she found the premium section.
[Item: Deep Conditioner.]
[Description: Hydrophobic formula designed for aquatic species. Coats hair in a protective keratin seal that repels salt, sli, and friction. Scent: Wild Orchid & Vanilla.]
[Cost: 5,000 LP.]
She bought that one.
[Item: Wide-Tooth Detangler Comb (Carbon Fiber).]
[Cost: 500 LP.]
Roxy reached into her inventory and pulled out a large, sleek purple bottle and a sturdy black comb.
Nimue watched, her curiosity warring with her pride. "More iron pots?"
"Better," Roxy said, popping the cap of the bottle. A rich, sweet scent of vanilla and flowers drifted through the cave, cutting through the sll of the food.
Nimue inhaled sharply. "It slls... sweet. Like the sea-flowers on the vents."
"This will help your hair a lot," Roxy explained, holding the bottle up. "This will make your hair slick as an eel. The salt won’t stick to it. The sli will slide right off. And when you swim? You’ll feel free."
Nimue’s ears twitched. "I will really feel free?"
"Faster," Roxy nodded with a sly smile. "Smoother. Deadly."
The vanity won. Nimue hesitated, then slowly slid off the coral chair and sat on the sandy floor, her back to Roxy. She lowered her head in submission.
"If you pull," Nimue warned, her voice vibrating against the floor, "I bite."
"Deal," Roxy muttered.
She grabbed the tal pot she used for boiling water and filled it from the freshwater condenser Caspian had set up. She placed it on the embers of the fire, just long enough to take the chill off.
"Okay," Roxy said, testing the water with her finger. "Lean back."
Nimue tilted her head back.
Roxy poured the warm water over the rmaid’s hair.
Nimue gasped. Her entire body jolted, but Roxy held her back with a very stubborn grip so the water wouldn’t splash on her. "It is hot!"
"It’s warm," Roxy corrected gently. "Relax. Let the heat open the cuticles."
She poured the rest of the water, drenching the heavy black mass. The grey sli began to loosen imdiately.
Then, Roxy squeezed a generous amount of the Conditioner into her palm. It was thick and creamy. She began to work it into the ends of Nimue’s hair.
Nimue flinched at the first touch, her muscles coiled tight as steel cables. She wasn’t used to gentle touch. In the Trench, touch was violent, fighting, mating, or killing.
But Roxy massaged it like her mother’s touch.
She worked her fingers into the scalp, using the pads of her thumbs to rub circles behind Nimue’s ears. She worked the conditioner down the length of the hair, coating every strand.
"This helps the knots slip out," Roxy murmured, her voice low and rhythmic, the sa tone she used when soothing Tanith.
Nimue let out a breath she seed to have been holding for centuries.
Her shoulders dropped. Her tail uncoiled, lying flat against the sand. The tension drained out of her pale, white body.
"Oh," Nimue breathed.
Roxy picked up the wide-toothed comb. She started at the very bottom, gently teasing out a knot. Thanks to the System-grade conditioner, the comb slid through the tangle like a hot knife through butter.
"See?" Roxy whispered. "No pulling."
She worked her way up. Comb. Massage. Comb. Massage.
Nimue’s eyes fluttered shut. Her head lulled back against Roxy’s stomach. Then, the sound started.
At first, Roxy thought it was another big sea creature taking rounds around the cave, but it wasn’t that.
It was Nimue.
The vibration was coming from the rmaid’s chest. It was deep, resonant, and powerful, like standing next to a massive submarine engine idling in the harbor. The sand around Nimue’s tail actually shifted slightly from the frequency.
She’s purring, Roxy realized, stifling a giggle. The terror of the deep is a giant cat.
"It feels... strange," Nimue slurred, her voice thick with relaxation. "My scalp... tingles."
"That’s the blood flow returning," Roxy said, combing through a long section of hair that was now slick, black, and glossy as oil. "You hold so much tension in your neck. You need to relax more."
"In the deep, we are never taught to relax," Nimue mumbled, though she sounded half-asleep. "If you stop moving, the currents take you."
"Not in here," Roxy said. "In here, you’re just getting a makeover."
If his sister trusts , it’s going to be easier to leave here.
She continued working for another ten minutes. When Roxy finally ran the comb from the roots to the tips without a single snag, she marveled at the result.
Clean, conditioned, and detangled, Nimue’s hair was extraordinary. It wasn’t just hair; it was a sensory organ. It was impossibly fine, yet strong as wire. It felt like cool liquid silk in Roxy’s hands. Against Nimue’s pale white skin, the contrast was striking, like ink spilled on marble.
"Done," Roxy announced softly.
Nimue opened her eyes. The violet light in them was hazy, unfocused. She sat up slowly, shaking her head.
Her hair moved with her, fluid and weightless, settling in a perfect, glossy curtain down her back. It slled of wild orchids and vanilla.
Nimue reached up and touched it. Her hand slid down the length without catching.
"It is... so smooth," Nimue whispered, looking at her hand in disbelief. "It feels like water."
She turned to look at Roxy. Her eyes filled with respect.
"You have magic hands, Little Landwalker," Nimue admitted. "My head feels light."
"It’s nothing," Roxy shrugged, wiping the conditioner from her hands on a rag.
Nimue picked up the plate of now-cooled scallops and began to eat them, but with less savagery than before. She seed civilized now, sitting on the sand with her glossy hair and her gourt al.
Roxy sat down opposite her, crossing her legs. She watched Nimue eat for a mont, her mind turning back to the bigger picture. The conditioner had bought her an opening. Now she needed information.
She looked at the water wall, then back at the rmaid, who looked like a pale ghost haunting the darkness.
"So," Roxy started, trying to sound casual. "I have to ask."
Nimue looked up, cheek full of a scallop. "Ask."
"You guys are powerful," Roxy said. "You have magic. You have strength. You have cities down here, right?"
"We have Spires," Nimue corrected. "Carved from the bedrock."
"Right, Spires," Roxy nodded. She didn’t know how to picture it. "But... why do you guys live in this pressure in this part of the sea and not on the surface?"
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