"It's beautiful," Briar said, because what else could she say?
"It's a statement," Arachne corrected, those many fingers already assessing Briar's tangled hair. "The Forest Court's colors remade in autumn's palette. Everyone will understand the message."
"Which is?"
"That summer has ended." Síocháin's voice was still like water over stones, unchanged from when she'd dressed Briar for Eliam. "That harvest time has come."
The two fae exchanged glances, something unspoken passing between them.
"We served the former lord well," Arachne said carefully as she began pulling pins from her basket. "You wore our creations with... dignity."
"Things change," Síocháin added, those pearl-like nails beginning to section Briar's hair. "Courts rise and fall. We adapt. We survive."
"As must you," Arachne said, and there was definitely something meaningful in her tone now. "The old ways Lord Malus speaks of returning to... they were not kind to humans."
"When were the fae ever kind to humans?" Briar asked bitterly.
"There are degrees of cruelty," Síocháin said, her fingers working with mechanical precision. "Lord Eliam's games were possessive but... limited. Lord Malus remembers when humans were currency. Entertainment that could be fully consumed."
"We cannot speak against our king," Arachne added quickly, producing the bodice of the dress. "But perhaps we can speak of... practical matters. This neckline, for instance. It will display your marks prominently."
"The autumn leaves," Briar touched her throat where the transformed bargain marks rustled against her skin.
"Yes. But also..." Síocháin paused in her braiding. "If one were to apply certain oils, certain barriers, the skin becomes less... permeable. Less able to be affected by outside influences."
She produced a small vial from her basket, setting it on the vanity without comment.
"And this particular style of hair," Arachne said as they worked in tandem, "while elaborate, has some practical benefits. These pins, for instance. Very sharp. One might scratch oneself if not careful."
She slipped several into the evolving hairstyle—decorative to look at, but Briar could feel their points, could tell they were meant for more than holding hair.
"You understand," Síocháin said quietly, "we serve whoever rules. We cannot take sides. Cannot offer aid."
"But we remember," Arachne added, cinching the bodice with practiced efficiency. "We remember every human who has worn our creations. Some with more fondness than others."
They worked in loaded silence after that, transforming her into exactly what Malus wanted—an autumn queen, a harvest trophy. The dress fit perfectly, the gradient silk catching light like dying fire. Her hair rose in elaborate coils that left her throat bare, displaying the transformed bargain marks for all to see.
"One more thing," Síocháin said, producing something else from her basket. A necklace of delicate copper leaves, each one perfect and sharp-edged. "His lordship's addition."
She fastened it around Briar's throat, the metal cold against her skin. The leaves hung just below the bargain marks, chiming softly when she moved.
"You look beautiful," Arachne said, stepping back. "Like autumn incarnate."
"Like something about to be devoured," Briar corrected.
Neither fae disagreed.
"The feast begins at sunset," Síocháin said, gathering their supplies. "We're to escort you when the time comes."
"Until then," Arachne added meaningfully, "perhaps rest. Save your strength. Tonight will be... long."
They left her alone with their warnings, their careful non-help, their sharp pins and protective oils. Briar studied her reflection—the autumn dress, the elaborate hair, the marks at her throat that no longer belonged to the right king.
She looked like exactly what she was: a prize dressed for display, a human prepared for consumption.
The vial Síocháin had left sat on the vanity, innocuous and small. Briar uncorked it, sniffing carefully. It smelled of mint and something sharper, something that made the warmth in her chest pulse with recognition. She dabbed it on her wrists, her throat, anywhere skin might be touched. It tingled briefly, then seemed to sink in, leaving nothing visible behind.
Whatever small protection they could offer, she'd take it. Tonight she would need every advantage, no matter how slight.
