"Hmm." Naia's expression was skeptical. "Him coming to your door every morning only to be turned away, and you looking like you haven't slept in days... Are you quite sure about that?"
Brynn turned away from the mirror, unable to look at her own reflection anymore. Unable to see the hurt and anger and longing written so clearly on her face.
"He lied to me, Naia. About everything that mattered." Her voice cracked no matter how she fought it. "How am I supposed to trust that?"
"I'm not saying you should," Naia said gently. "I'm just observing that you're both miserable. And that perhaps misery isn't the punishment you think it is."
Brynn shrugged. She wasn't going to think about that right now.
Her mind shifted to the gathering. A political event. All the Death Lords in attendance, along with their courts. A place where appearances mattered, where every gesture would be scrutinized and interpreted.
An idea began to form. Petty and vindictive and deeply satisfying.
He wanted to keep her at arm's length? Fine. Let him try to ignore her when she made herself impossible to overlook.
"Naia," she said slowly, her voice gaining strength as the plan came together. "How quickly could the palace tailors work? If I needed something made by tomorrow evening?"
Naia's eyebrows rose with interest, her translucent form brightening. "That would depend on what you had in mind. Something simple could be managed, but anything elaborate..."
"Not simple," Brynn interrupted, turning to face her fully. Her heart was beating faster now, adrenaline chasing away the exhaustion. "Elaborate. Beautiful." She met Naia's eyes. "I want everyone at that gathering to see exactly who I am. Not his tribute. Not someone to be managed and kept in the dark. An Architect."
Naia's smile turned positively wicked. "Oh, my dear. Now you're speaking my language."
"Can you arrange it?"
"Leave it to me," Naia said, rising gracefully. "I know exactly who to speak to. And I have some ideas that I think you'll find... satisfactory."She paused at the threshold, glancing back. "This is going to be absolutely delicious."
As Naia slipped out, Brynn turned back to the mirror.
She was done being managed. Done being protected. Done being kept in the dark while he decided what she could and couldn't handle.
At the Gathering of Souls, everyone would see exactly who she was.
Including him.
LIV.
BRYNN
The knock came at sunset.
Brynn had been ready for an hour, standing before her mirror while Naia made final adjustments to the creation they'd conspired to bring into existence.
The gown captured twilight. Fabric that shifted between deep purple and midnight blue depending on the light. Thousands of tiny crystals sewn across the bodice and down the skirt like scattered stars, the beading tracing constellations, ward-symbols woven into the decoration that only those who knew what to look for would recognize.
The neckline was lower than anything she'd worn before. Elegant but daring, revealing the curve of her collarbones and the hollow of her throat. The bodice fitted her perfectly, emphasizing curves she'd kept hidden beneath practical clothing for so long. The skirt was impractical as hell, trailing behind her and pooling at her feet, but it looked devastating.
“Confidence,” Naia said, her eyes bright with anticipation, “You’ve survived Death Lords, ward failures, and court politics. One ball won’t break you.”
"No," Brynn agreed, smoothing her hands over the bodice. The crystals were cool under her palms, grounding. “It won’t.”
The knock came again, more insistent this time.
"My lady," came a servant's voice through the door. "Lord Reaper awaits your presence in the main hall."
Let him wait a little longer.
"Tell him I'll be there momentarily," Brynn called back, taking one final look at herself.
