Page 11 of A Kiss From Death (Oath of Vengeance #1)

A cheerful, high-pitched whistling slowly draws me back to reality from the deepest slumber I’ve had since Theo passed away.

“Ahh, perfect. You’re finally awake,” a bubbly girl, maybe a couple years younger than me, sing-songs as I blink her into focus. Sitting up in bed, I take her and my surrounding room in. I hadn’t spared a glance at when I first entered.

The room is a perfect twin to the corridor outside my door—wrapped in matte black floral wallpaper and adorned with a single glowing sconce by the door. A gothic black metal chandelier hangs in the center of the room, drooping black melanite crystals hanging from its branches.

I’m currently sprawled out in a king-sized, black wooden four-poster bed with matching black sheets and throw blanket. Obsidian velvet strips drape across the top, connecting each corner before cascading to the floor down each post, gathered together by black silky ribbon .

Light streams in through the single stained glass window depicting a flying Necroshriek, green curvy hills in the background.

The room’s only other decor is a black vanity pushed against the wall, a vintage oval mirror hanging above it.

It’s accompanied by a black velvet throne-like chair with black angel wings jutting off each side.

Continuing the theme, a simple black wooden armoire, that I’m sure houses the few pieces of clothing I bought, is wedged in the other corner.

Next to the vanity stands a black and white floral folding screen to change behind.

Not sure why anyone would change behind that when I have my own personal washroom, but like everything I’ve seen so far, this place is a little over the top.

“Have you even been listening to anything I’ve been saying, girl?” The woman from earlier somehow has crossed the room, now shaking me by my shoulders.

“Huh?” I reply with a bewildered look.

“Ugh, you’re killing me,” she groans. “It’s a good thing I like talking so much and you weren’t paired with Hanz as a handmaid. That old hag is the queen of grouchville. No, thank youuu.” She drags out the last word with dramatic flair.

“Any whoosies, like I was saying before you so rudely ignored me...” Words pour out of her mouth in a single breath. “I’m Odessa, but everyone calls me Des. I’m basically a fashion prodigy and, like, the coolest ever, but that’s beside the point.” She laughs to herself.

“Basically, my job is to make you the hottest bitch out there so you can score some bonus points with the crowd to help your game. You want everyone to either want to be you or be envious of you.” I can see the wheels turning in her head and internally cringe.

“So I guess I can call you my blank canvas. Ahh, this year is going to be so much better than last year, since I was paired with a guy. Snooze fest, am I right?” She fake-yawns for dramatics.

“ Hello, Earth to Nyxi! Don’t tell me I need to repeat myself.

” She huffs, and I think it’s the first breath she’s taken.

“Do you always talk this much?” I question her with vivid concern etched on my face.

“It’s my specialty.” She grins back at me with the warmest smile. “So, do I need to repeat myself for a third time?” She scrunches her face in an attempt to be serious, but it just comes off looking like a pouting child.

“Hanz is an old hag. Des for short. Hottest bitch. Make everyone jealous. Snooze fest, and you never shut up. Does that cover everything?” I teasingly smile back at her, and I find it odd how easy it is to do around her.

Snapping her fingers at me, she states, “I knew I was going to like you!” She turns to walk towards the vanity and starts giggling to herself again.

Theo, what have I gotten myself into?

I use this moment to take in Des in all her glory. She is one of the most stunning and naturally beautiful women I have ever laid my eyes on. Is this what everyone in Lunaria looks like? They definitely don’t make them like her in Vagrant Sector.

Her skin is a rich, glowing mocha, warm freckles painting her face, neck, and arms. Her hair falls in silky, light gray curls all the way down to her butt.

Pink and yellow monarch butterflies are clipped throughout her hair, pairing perfectly with her bubbly personality.

She has a cute button nose covered with blush, making it look rosy.

Her eyes remind me of bright fern leaves, and her pink lips are full and puffy.

Her small frame sits at least a few inches shorter than me, covered in a white cotton dress with puffy short sleeves.

The round neckline swoops low. Layered on top of her dress is a green and brown floral corset that tightly laces up the back, giving her an hourglass frame.

She’s paired her outfit with black lace up platform boots .

Stumbling over to the vanity, I plop down in the oversized chair fit for a queen.

“So, where do we start? I need all the help I can get in the fashion department. I go more for practicality over style. I only brought a few things with me, but I’m sure we can muster up something presentable…

right?” I look over at her anxiously, and for some reason, I want to make a good first impression.

Normally I couldn’t give two shits about what I look like or how people perceive me.

Des smiles back at me, and it’s the first genuine emotion I’ve felt since Theo’s passing. I’ve known Des for only five minutes, and I can already tell she has a heart of gold.

“Let’s take a peek at what we’re working with.” She winks at me, all the anxious nerves inside me draining away to nothing.

She flings open both doors to the armoire and gasps, dramatically throwing the back of her hand over her forehead. “What in all Lunaria is this, Nyxi?” She turns around to face me with raised eyebrows.

“So we may be a little more limited with options than I initially let on…but you did call yourself a fashion prodigy, did you not?” I make an innocent face and pray this girl lives up to her bold accusations.

“Limited… Girl, there are four things in here, and half of them have holes. Not to mention, you don’t have a single dress.

This all has to go. It’s decided: we are starting fresh and holding a sacrificial ritual to purge these monstrosities.

” She goes to snatch my clothes up, but I whip my arm out, halting her in her tracks.

“Wait, you can’t take that… It’s my boyfriend’s.” My voice cracks, and the darkness starts to dig its nails into my battered heart again.

“Boyfriend!” Des wiggles her eyebrows in a playful manner.

“Please tell me he’s an absolute hunk. I mean, who am I kidding—this jacket is massive, so of course he is.

Do you have to climb him like a tree? Is his branch big?

Just tell me when to stop.” She starts slowly moving her hands out in a measuring motion.

“Tell me when to stop because this is starting to get into ‘needing to see a healer after’ territory.”

A single tear slides down my face, and I’m shocked at my raw emotions taking hold of me in front of this stranger. Des doesn’t feel like a stranger, though; she feels like Theo. She feels like home.

“Shit, what did I say? Was it the tree climbing part? Hanz always tells me I’m too forward, but who has time to live a boring life, right?” She grips my hands and wipes the single tear I shed off my face in a motherly gesture.

“Do you want to talk about it?” It’s a simple sentence, but it holds so much power. I know in my heart she truly means it. Theo is the only person who has ever cared for me in that way, and I never thought anyone else would fill that void.

I let out a long sigh through a wobbly smile and squeeze her hands back. “Theo, he was my boyfriend. He, uh—he passed away recently. He was my only family, and now, all I have left of him are these scraps of cloth.” I release a massive breath from the depths of my soul.

It feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders at this admission. Sharing this burden with someone makes it a little more bearable.

Trust is not something I give lightly or easily, and for some reason, I have this deep rooted feeling that I can trust Des. I think she might even be my very first friend.

“I am so, so sorry, Nyxi.” Her voice is filled with raw emotion, speaking from similar pain, as if she has an intimate relationship with loss and heartache.

“I know what it is like to lose someone who made you, you . There is no getting over it, just through it, one day, one smile, and one regained laugh at a time. That is all we can hope for—a better tomorrow.”

She speaks with such wisdom, like she’s lived a thousand life times, and maybe, mentally, she has. I know right in this second, Des and I are cut from the same coin.

“Thank you, Des, truly. That means more than you will ever know.” I smile at her, and I think it’s the first true smile I’ve openly given in a very long time.

“Okay, now that the waterworks show is over…do you think you will be able to help me find something presentable to wear to dinner tonight? I know it might sound silly, but I think I would like to feel beautiful. Maybe wear a dress? If that’s possible…

I don’t want to be too much trouble.” I fidget with my hands, and my palms start to sweat.

A childish squeal assaults my ears. “Oh my Empress, we are totally breaking out the rainy day closet. This is just perfect!”

“Umm, what exactly is a rainy day closet?” I ask, hoping I haven’t gotten myself in too deep.

Her immediate response is a smile that could rival the devil’s in mischief. “First, let’s work on your face and hair, and then, we will get to your wardrobe.”

“Problem: I have no makeup, and I’m not sure there’s any luck of turning this bird’s nest I call hair into anything suitable for an Empress.” I lay the news on thick.

“Hush, child. Let the professional work her magic. I was made for this.” She smiles at me while lifting her hands. Little white glowing orbs dance off her fingertips.

What the heck?

“Have you ever heard of a Luster?” She prods me while simultaneously moving her hands in front of my face like she’s conducting a symphony.

“No. Should I know what that means?” I ask wearily.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that to keep my fragile ego intact. But, any whoosies, Lusters can enhance someone’s natural beauty, basically making them glow brighter,” she states with sheer certainty.

“A swipe of my hand here, and suddenly, your eyes are lined a little darker, making the gray pop brighter than any star could.” She slides her hand lower.

“A dip of my hand here, and your lips soften to a brighter pink, making your porcelain skin brighter against them. A flick of my wrist here, and your lashes darken and curl. I like to call myself an artist.” She’s beaming at me, and I can feel the pure joy and passion radiating off her.

“I can tell you love what you do, Des.”

“It helps keep my demons at bay…so yes, it is my everything.”

“Well, I might just be your hardest canvas yet. Give me your best, Des.” I wink, giving her carte blanche to do as she pleases.

She licks her lips and claps. “I love a good challenge.”

Her hands take on a life of their own, moving so fast, I find it hard to keep up with them. Her face contorts as she focuses on turning me into a masterpiece. The air around us feels charged and begins to warm with the presence of magic.

She finishes up with my face and moves to my hair that falls in long curls down my back.

“I have just the perfect idea for your hair. We will keep it simple tonight to start, since this is just the welcome dinner. We don’t want to set the bar too high this early in the Crucible.

” She puts both hands on her hips with a smug smile, like she never doubted herself in the slightest.

“Stay put. I’ll be right back. Don’t touch a thing, or I will filet you like a guppy.” Even her threats come off childish; I’m certain Des couldn’t hurt a fly even if she tried.

Empress help me.

“Holy Empress…” I whisper as I take in the woman staring at me in the mirror.

“More like a hot piece of meat,” Des coos over my shoulder as she admires her handiwork.

I’ve never felt so…so…beautiful in my entire existence. Des truly earned Luster title as I take in my reflection.

She’s left my hair in long, obsidian curls, but she opted to French braid the top half down the center of my part before tying it in a knot so the curls continue down my back.

To bring it all together, she’s speared it with a silver miniature dagger to hold the knot in place. The handle depicts silver vines with flowers growing around it, adding a touch of beauty paired with the symbol of death. A symbol to represent myself.

My pale skin sparkles like I’m being lit up in harsh sunlight.

She’s smoked out my eyelids in a gradient of charcoal and gray, painted my lashes in a black glitter, and added tiny gemstones on them, turning them into a starry night sky.

She’s added shine to my high cheekbones, and they catch the light in a blinding manner.

To finish the look, she’s painted my round lips a deep plum.

What emboldens me the most, though, is the simple, classic dress she’s picked out for me. It fits me like a glove, as if she’s been holding onto it for this exact moment.

What transpires before my eyes can only be compared to the saying opposites attract.

My pale, glimmering skin takes on a godly glow against the midnight satin dress.

The simple thin crystal straps hold up the low, swooping neckline, showing off my small cleavage.

The satin hugs my middle and sucks in around my round hips.

One side is ruched, supporting a high cut slit that exposes most of my thigh and leg.

The hem is adorned with teardrop crystals that dance as I move.

It’s paired with clear glass, open-toed slippers .

“You, my friend, are a one of a kind masterpiece.” Des beams at me, unwavering admiration in her eyes.

“Thank you, for everything. This is the greatest gift you could ever give me. I feel beautiful for once in my life. I will cherish this for the rest of my days.” It’s then I notice the twin smile to Des’ shining on my own face.

“I would like to add one more thing to my outfit, if that’s okay. ” I ask nervously.

“Of course. This is all for you, my friend.”

I reach into my small bag of belongings and pull out my weathered dagger necklace, holding it up for Des to take as I turn around and lift my hair for her.

She claps it around my neck, the dagger nuzzling the center of my exposed cleavage. I take a deep breath in and use the necklace as a place of comfort to hold all my nerves.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I smile at Des. “Let the games begin.”