But simple plans are usually the first to go wrong.
I don't speak as I enter, trying to appear confident. The scent of crushed violets assaults my senses as I step over the threshold. A masked server glances up and waves me forward absently.
"You're late!" A young male fae with purple eyes glares at me. "The show starts in ten minutes and you're not even dressed!"
"I—" Before I can correct him, someone grabs my elbow.
"No excuses!" A fae with butterfly wings joins him, her iridescent wings fluttering. "New girls always think they can waltz in whenever—"
"She's not even in makeup," adds another fae with similar wings in darker shades. "How did she think she'd pass for the Elven Queen looking like that?"
My blood freezes. "The Elven Queen?"
The butterfly-winged fae laughs. "Don't tell me you forgot tonight's theme? Honestly, where did recruitment find you?"
"Just get her into the blue room," the male fae says. "She really went all out with the hair. That silver dye is near perfect."
"Did you do the hair yourself?" the girl asks, tugging me into a flurry of corridors.
"There's been a mistake—"
She drags me deeper into the building. "You must be the new girl Thorn mentioned."
I'm pulled into a fitting room that smells of sweet perfume. My confusion doubles. The room is full of workers all preparing for something and every single one of them looks like me.
Or rather, they're all trying to look like me.
Silver wigs. Violet eyes. It's surreal and deeply unsettling, watching dozens of false versions of myself.
"I'm Petal," the girl with butterfly wings says, adjusting a silver wig on another worker. "That's River."
The male bows with mock formality.
"And this menace is Fleur." She gestures to the girl who pulled me.
Three pairs of eyes land on me. I realize they've all given their names. They look at me expectantly, waiting for mine.
The silence stretches.
"I'm Fawn," I say, and immediately want to swallow the word back. Of all the names I could have chosen, Svenn's nickname for me came out of my mouth before I could think.
"Welcome to your first Mockery Night," Petal says over her shoulder, already rifling through costumes.
"Mockery Night?" I manage, my voice barely steady.
Fleur laughs. "Oh, you really are new. Once a month, we theme the whole house. Tonight every server impersonates the Silver Queen herself."
Dear gods.
"Your mockery of the queen is actually impressive," River says, studying me critically. "That silver dye looks incredibly real. Where did you get it?"
"I…" I touch my natural silver hair self-consciously. "Trade secret?"
I am a terrible liar.
Fleur snorts. "Typical. Well, at least you're taking it seriously. Tonight's about mocking her, after all."
"That self-righteous elf who thinks she can stand against the Wild Hunt," Petal says with relish. "Tonight, we show what we think of her. Every worker becomes her and every patron gets to... well, they get to do whatever they want to her."
