You've precious little to apologize for, rather I... [ He has found the root of the tangle, and for all the world it seems as though there must be magic in his fingers with how quickly he coaxes Lord Light's hair loose from his own. ] ...should have known better than to unbind my hair from its plait in such a place.

[ A place where even he could not resist the way the hot water of the springs seemed to melt away the tension from his muscles, the aches from his bones. Even now, sleep tugs at his eyelids, white lashes falling to half-mast over golden eyes as he finds himself twining one of the newly-freed locks of Lord's Lights hair about a slender forefinger as his thoughts drift away from him so much like ripples upon the surface of the water... ]

It is like silk, your hair.