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“It was like a braid, the song- a plait of seven voices, weaving in and out, individual strands that together formed a pattern.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Alis finished my plait, and I jumped from the bench before she could weave in little flowers from the basket she'd brought. I would have lived up to my namesake were it not for the effects of poverty, but I'd never particularly cared. Beauty didn't mean anything in the forest.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses