Cahira crossed her arms, looking at her five year old daughter, Nia, who glared at her mother.

    "I don' wan' a bwaid!!" She complained, nearly stomping her foot.
     "What do you want me to do with your hair instead of a braid?" She asked gently, trying to not get too upset. 
     "I don' want anyfing!! I wanna weave it down!!" Cahira sighed, sitting down in a nearby chair, and took a deep breath.

     "Nia, you have to have something done with your hair. It's your dad's birthday, and you have to look nice." The little girl raised one eyebrow at her mother.
     "He's not gonna look nice, mummy. He hates dwessing up. Wemember?" She sighed again, looking at her daughter. She was right about Edmund not liking to dress up, but she couldn't let Nia win.

     "I remember, but you have to do something with your hair. Do you have any opinion about what you want me to do with your hair?" Nia sighed, looking down, and then back up at her mother.

     "Can you just do ponytails and put wibbons on dem?" Cahira smiled, and then scooped the little girl up, and then set her back down in her chair.

      "I suppose. Come on." She picked up the brush, pulling it through the girl's hair. Nia was a picture image of her father, with long, raven black hair, and dark brown, almost black eyes. She smiled, remembering the day she was born, and Edmund's excitement at the fact that she looked so much like him. She pulled the hair into two parts, tying the dark green ribbons around them.

      "Alright, love. Now you've just got to put your dress on, and then you'll be ready." She giggled, running over and getting the forest green, satin creation. Cahira had made it herself, despite complaint from Analise, the palace seamstress. Later than night, Nia found her dad in the crowd of people, pushing through them to get to him.

      "Daddy!" She squealed, and he grinned, scooping her up as she nearly barreled into him.
      "Hey, princess. Where's your mum?" She pointed, and Cahira smiled, coming over.
      "Next time we have something like this, you're convincing her actually get dressed." He chuckled, kissing his wife.
      "I think I can survive that. Now, Nia. May I have the pleasure of this dance?" She giggled, squirming down, and she stood on his feet, took his hands. Cahira smiled, watching her husband and daughter dancing together. She couldn't imagine anything better than that. Of course, things might change a tiny bit when the new baby came. She smiled slightly, placing one hand on her stomach. She could tell him the good news later that evening.