“I’m glad you’re here, even if neither of us can figure out why,” I toldher.
Kami came in through the door then. “Ah, look, the mortal star we all orbit around.”
“You’re on your own,” Anayla told me, picking up a cookie. “It’s my revenge for you trying to reject my friendship. Even though I won’t let you.”
She winked at me, then headed back into the hall.
“Well?” Kami propped her hands on her hips. “I was told to make you beautiful, and we can’t spare a moment, can we?”
I couldn’t hold back a laugh. I felt light-hearted in a way I rarely did after talking with Anayla. “We probably should have started an hour ago.”
Anayla gave me a sharp look—as if she were offended that I was not offended—then scoffed. But I was already up and walking to my room, and Kami followed me.
“Sit so I can do your hair for the trial tonight.” Kami was already combing through my hair, a little harder than needed, but it didn’t matter because the comb went through my hair like warm butter.
I sat. I didn’t mind the idea of wearing beauty like armor tonight as I faced the Fae Court.
“What do you want?”
“An end to Fae rule? Magic for mortals?” I caught glimpses of her face—distinctly unamused—in each of the five spare gilt mirrors that had been hung in my room because they weren’t needed elsewhere. “Could my hair be pink?”
She made a small, disgusted noise that didn’t answer my question. “I’m going to do an updo.”
Then, reluctantly, “I’ll make the ends pink.”
“Thank you.”
“I saw Fieran carry you out of the first trial.”
And thus I was being treated with fresh disdain.
Fieran came in while she was still fussing with hairpins. He leaned against the wall, his presence all-consuming.
That only made Kami’s jabs more pointed, her comments alternating between insults for me and compliments for him. He seemed oblivious to both.
“Impressed by what your money bought?” I asked dryly, gesturing toward the altered mask of my face and hair.
He frowned. “Not particularly.”
For once, Kami and I shared the same disgust.
“I made her beautiful,” Kami snapped. “Or at least as close as we can manage.”
“She’s always beautiful,” Fieran said, dismissive as ever.
I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or if he truly didn’t care about the difference between my mortal face and the magicked version.
“It just has to be done,” he added. “They’re all snobs.”
Kami jabbed a pin into my scalp hard enough to make me wince. “Fieran, you are absolutely?—”
“Done having you in here,” he cut in smoothly, finishing her sentence. “I’ll handle the rest.”
“No, thank you,” I said quickly, even as Kami made a horrified little noise.
But what either of us wanted never seemed to matter to Fieran. He ushered her out, shut the door behind her, and crossed the room toward me. I reached up to touch the pins digging into my skull.
“Take it down,” he said impatiently. “Tonight will be bad enough without it.”
