"Yes -" Linya, at a loss for more details to supply - Cordelia is not her haut friend asking after a new relationship with a new love-poem, Cordelia is not some ghem-lord's preexisting wife probing for information about how their mutual husband's affections are divided, Cordelia is not a pruriently curious Lord Vorpatril, what in the world is she, though, what does she need and deserve to know?

"He braids my hair," she comes up with after a moment.