Chapter 21 #3
His hands found her waist, steadier than hers would have been, and he guided her arms into the dress sleeves one at a time. The fabric was soft against her skin, cool silk that warmed quickly. He moved behind her to work the laces, his fingers deft and practiced.
"I've dressed you before," he said, his voice dark with amusement. "Though usually I was more interested in the reverse."
Despite everything, she felt her lips quirk slightly. "I remember."
His hands worked the laces and when he finished, his fingers lingered at the small of her back, pressing gently through the fabric.
"Turn around," he said.
She did, and found him watching her with that intense focus he brought to everything.
His hands rose to her hair, finger-combing through the tangles with unexpected gentleness.
She'd expected him to leave it, to declare it fine as it was, but instead he gathered it carefully, his touch light against her scalp.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"You can't go to a council meeting looking like you just woke from a three-day fever dream." His fingers twisted her hair into something simple, securing it with pins that had been left on the bedside table. "Even if that's exactly what happened."
The intimacy of it caught her off-guard. This wasn't desire or possession or claim. This was care, quiet and practical and utterly focused on her comfort rather than his wants.
When he finished, his hands framed her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. "Better."
She realized she wasn't afraid of his touch right now, wasn't fighting the urge to pull away or brace for something unwanted. The panic that had gripped her when he'd kissed her earlier had faded, leaving behind only exhaustion and the steady warmth of his presence.
He noticed. She saw it in the way his expression shifted, something easing in his shoulders.
"Progress," he said softly, almost to himself.
"Small steps," she agreed.
His hands dropped from her face and he stepped back, offering his arm with surprising formality. "Ready to face the disaster waiting for us?"
She took his arm, feeling the solid strength of him beneath her fingers. "As ready as I'll ever be."
The walk to the council room took longer than it should have.
Briar's legs felt disconnected from her body, each step requiring conscious effort.
The day and a half of unconsciousness had let her wounds heal, but her body still remembered the blood loss, the trauma, the violation.
Everything moved too slowly, like she was underwater.
The Star Court hallways gleamed around them, all crystalline surfaces and captured starlight that felt too bright, too clean after the decay of Malus's court. Her bare feet made no sound on the smooth floors, but Eliam's boots clicked with each step, marking their progress.
They reached the council room doors and Eliam paused, his hand sliding from her back to her waist. His grip tightened slightly, possessive and protective both.
"If you need to leave," he said quietly, "just say it."
She nodded, though leaving felt impossible. They needed to decide what to do, needed to plan, and she was at the center of every problem they faced. Running from this conversation wouldn't make any of it less real.
The doors opened.
The room beyond was smaller than she'd expected, more intimate than the grand halls she'd seen in the Star Court.
A long table dominated the space, carved from what looked like a single piece of pale wood that seemed to glow from within.
Windows lined one wall, offering a view of gardens blooming in colors that shouldn't exist together.
Everyone was already there.
Sian stood near the windows, her water-sprite nature making her seem like she might dissolve into mist at any moment. When she saw Briar, her face transformed with relief and she crossed the room in three quick steps, arms already reaching.
Briar felt Eliam tense beside her, but he didn't stop Sian from wrapping her in a careful hug. The embrace was gentle, mindful of injuries, and smelled of fresh water and something floral that Briar couldn't name. It lasted only a moment before Sian pulled back, her hands lingering on Briar's arms.
"I'm so glad you're alright," Sian said, her voice thick with genuine emotion. "We were so worried."
"Thank you," Briar managed, her throat tight. The simple comfort of the hug had made something crack in her chest, threatening tears she couldn't afford right now.
Arion stood near the head of the table, and she saw him notice the exchange. Something flickered in his expression before he smoothed it away. He moved toward them, slower than Sian had, more conscious of the territorial fae lord between them.
"Briar." His voice held warmth but also careful respect for Eliam's presence. "It's good to see you awake."
She saw him wanting to reach for her, to offer comfort the way he had before, but Eliam's hand on her waist turned to iron. The warmth in her chest pulsed, reaching toward Arion with weak recognition, and she felt Eliam go completely rigid beside her.
"Prince Arion," Eliam said, his tone perfectly neutral in a way that meant nothing was neutral at all. "Thank you for your hospitality and for sending aid when Frederick reached you."
The formal words hung in the air, a reminder of debts and politics and the careful dance they all had to perform.
Karse stood against the far wall, his burned arm wrapped in what looked like spider-silk bandages. His golden eyes found hers immediately, assessing, calculating. He gave a single nod that acknowledged her presence without offering comfort or sympathy. Drak didn't traffic in either.
Thaine occupied the opposite corner, looking better than he had any right to after everything.
The blood had been washed from his hair, and someone had given him fresh clothes, though she noticed he still favored his right side where the worst injuries had been.
When their eyes met, he offered a slight smile that held approval. She'd survived. That was enough.
Halian sat at the table, his usual gentle demeanor strained. His eyes kept flicking to the corner where Ferria stood, guarded by two Star Court soldiers. Her brother's distress was palpable, a war between loyalty and knowing what his sister had done.
Ferria herself wouldn't meet Briar's eyes.
She stood perfectly still between her guards, her face carefully blank.
The illusion magic that usually shimmered around her was absent, suppressed or simply abandoned.
Without it, she looked smaller somehow, more vulnerable, but Briar knew better than to trust that appearance.
"Please, sit," Arion said, gesturing to the chairs. "We have much to discuss."
Eliam guided Briar to a seat, his hand never leaving her until she was settled. Then he took the chair beside her, close enough that their arms brushed, close enough to make his claim obvious to everyone in the room.
The tension was thick enough to choke on.
Arion remained standing at the head of the table, his expression settling into something more formal, more princely than the warm friend she'd known in their brief time together.
"We're here to address several urgent matters," he began, his gaze sweeping the room before they landed on Ferria, and his voice hardened. "We'll start with you."
The room went silent, waiting. Ferria stood perfectly still between her guards, her face carefully blank.
"You are accused of conspiring with Malus to overthrow the Forest Court," Arion said, his tone carrying the weight of formal judgment.
"Of betraying the Star Court's trust by acting as his agent while under our protection.
Of manipulating Briar Washington through deception and coercion, providing her the means and motive to release Malus from his imprisonment.
Of participating in the capture and torture of Lord Eliam of the Forest Court.
" He paused, letting each accusation settle. "Do you deny any of these charges?"
"I never—!” She stopped, gaze sweeping the room again.
The silence stretched as everyone waited for her to speak, to defend herself, to offer some explanation for the betrayal.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Eliam was never…
I helped them escape," she said finally, her voice steady. "That should count for something."
The words landed wrong, too calculated, too focused on shifting blame away from everything she'd done before.
"You helped him escape after participating in his capture," Arion said, his tone sharp. "After working with Malus to overthrow the Forest Court. After lying to us all."
"Malus used me too," Ferria said, her voice growing desperate. Briar felt rage spike hot in her chest. "He promised me things, told me what I wanted to hear. I was as much a victim of his manipulation as the human girl was."
The comparison was too much.
"No." The word came out harsh, louder than Briar intended. Every eye in the room turned to her. "You were not a victim the way I was a victim. Don't you dare try to compare the two."
Ferria's jaw tightened, but she didn't respond.
"You chose to work with him," Briar continued, her hands fisting in her lap.
"You chose to lie to me to give me the means and the motive to find Malus and release him.
You knew I was desperate… ignorant. You told me yourself that if you could have freed Eliam without me, you would have left me there.
You made choice after choice, and now you want to act like you had no control over any of it? "
"I was trying to survive," Ferria said, her voice rising slightly. "Trying to protect myself in an impossible situation."
"Survive?" Briar's voice cracked. "You have no idea what surviving is."
"I freed Eliam," Ferria repeated, desperate now to prove herself against the weight of the crimes she’d committed. "I got him out. That means—"
"It means you have a sense of self-preservation," Eliam said, his voice cold enough to freeze. "It means you realized Malus wouldn't need you anymore once he had what he wanted. It doesn't absolve you of anything."
Halian shifted in his seat, his distress obvious. "She's still my sister," he said quietly, though the words sounded like they cost him. "Whatever she's done, she's family."
"Family who committed treason against this court," Arion said, his tone gentler when addressing Halian but no less firm. "She aided in the torture and imprisonment of a sovereign lord. She manipulated and endangered others to serve her own interests."
"Kill her," Eliam said flatly. "She's earned that much."
"No!" Halian stood abruptly. "Exile her. Lock her away. But not death. Please."
Arion's expression suggested he was calculating political equations Briar couldn't fully grasp. The Star Court's relationship with the Forest Court, the delicate balance of power between courts, the message any judgment would send.
"She's a member of the Star Court," Arion said finally. "Technically, she falls under my jurisdiction, and killing her without proper trial would create complications we don't need right now."
"Then hold the trial," Eliam said, voice calm though Briar could feel the tension radiating off of him in waves.. "Find her guilty. Execute her."
"We don't have time for a full court trial," Arion countered. "Not with everything else we're facing."
"So she walks free?" The edge in Eliam's voice could have cut stone.
"No." Arion's gaze returned to Ferria. "She'll be imprisoned. Held in secure chambers under guard until this situation with Malus is resolved. After that, we'll decide her ultimate fate."
"You're imprisoning me?" Ferria's carefully neutral expression cracked slightly. "For how long?"
"As long as necessary," Arion said. "Be grateful Halian loves you enough to plead for your life, because I'm inclined to agree with Eliam's assessment."
He gestured to the guards. "Take her to the lower chambers. No visitors, no communication with anyone outside. If she tries to use magic, you have permission to bind her completely."
The guards moved to escort Ferria out. She went without resistance, but as she passed Briar, she finally met her eyes. What Briar saw there wasn't remorse or apology. It was calculation, a promise that this wasn't over.
Then she was gone, the door closing behind her with a soft click that felt too quiet for the magnitude of what had just happened.
The room breathed out collectively.
"One problem addressed," Arion said, returning to the head of the table. "Now for the harder ones."