Page 11 of Queen of the Wicked (Afterlife #1)

Alessia

A lessia had been surprised that her room wasn’t in a dungeon.

She expected Erebos to put her up in the least comfortable space for the time being until she left, but instead, he had put her in a room fit for a queen.

With its lavish four-poster king bed, the fluffy duvet, and the Egyptian cotton sheets, she was in heaven and slept deeper than ever.

She awoke to a young woman ripping the curtains back, that red sky burning into her eyes.

“His Majesty requests your presence at dinner,” she reminded her.

“It is time to get ready. Come.” She extended her hand and dragged her from the bed, ushering her into the bathroom.

“He doesn’t like tardiness,” she supplied. “We must begin now.”

Alessia eyed the steaming porcelain tub of water she pointed to.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a few minutes,” she said, but the woman, whom she assumed was Isla, still stood there with wide, expectant eyes.

She couldn’t be much older than her, so it was ridiculous to be waited on as if she were royalty.

“You’re going to watch me?” Alessia asked.

“I am to bathe you,” Isla replied. She propped a hand on her curvy hip and pointed at the water.

Alessia snorted. “Absolutely not. I will bathe myself, and when I am done, you can do whatever you want to me. Sound good?”

Isla blinked repeatedly. “His Majesty likes his women to be?—”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not his woman then, isn’t it?” she snapped. Isla’s brows knitted together deep in thought, but finally, she dipped her head and exited the room to allow Alessia some time to bathe.

She immediately felt like shit when her muscles hit the hot water.

It wasn’t Isla’s fault that she was instructed to do these things.

Alessia shouldn’t have taken her irritation out on her.

Being at this castle had put her on edge, and she was releasing it on those who had been nothing but kind to her so far.

Alessia ran a tin of lavender-scented shampoo through her hair and over her body. When she felt content with herself, she climbed into the robe beside the tub and sauntered back to where Isla awaited like a statue perched beside the vanity chair. “Sit,” she instructed, brush already in hand.

Alessia did as she was told and, despite herself, appreciated the feeling of the brush gliding through her thick, black mane.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Isla bristled behind her but quickly recovered and resumed the brushing.

“I’m trying to settle myself here, but it’s…

a lot. I want to go home. I need to fi nd my mother. ”

Isla cleared her throat. “And home is where?”

“Brunwick,” Alessia replied. She didn’t know how much Erebos’s staff was allowed to learn, and she didn’t want to get into more trouble than it was worth, so rather than confide in her about her mother’s disappearance, she kept her mouth shut about the real reason she was here. “I didn’t expect Hell to be so…kind.”

“Kind?”

“Yeah. I expected Erebos to be this person everyone feared, but instead, it’s as if everyone likes him. Loves him, even. Isn’t the Lord of Hell supposed to torture those who have done wrong? Aren’t we supposed to repent for our sins?”

Isla laughed softly to herself. “You have not been here long enough. The Lord of Hell is certainly one to be feared. It is not all sunshine and rainbows, but we are grateful to serve His Majesty as we await our calling. We respect him.”

No red aura… No signs of lies. She told the truth.

“I guess I have yet to see the kind side of His Majesty, ” Alessia mused.

Isla shook her head. “I wouldn’t call him kind.

He is a man who has experienced a great deal of pain in his lifetime.

When someone experiences that much hardship…

it’s hard to find light again. I have not seen His Majesty laugh or smile since my time here, and I…

” She paused with the brush in her hand, face growing deathly pale. “I have said too much.”

“I won’t tell, you know,” Alessia replied, staring at their reflections in the mirror.

Isla smiled briefly but remained silent as she grabbed hairpins from the drawer.

“Ow!” Alessia howled. The corset Isla was tightening was ridiculous . How did these women survive? She couldn’t even think about eating right now when her ribs were crushing against her goddamn esophagus. “You wear one of these every day?”

Isla rolled her eyes. “Do not be dramatic,” she said. “I’m almost finished.”

With a final tug, she stepped back from her to open up the closet in front of them, and all of the gowns in there made Alessia’s heart skip a beat.

There were tons. All made of rich, expensive fabric and all different sizes.

Velvet, silk, chiffon… “When did all of these get here?” she asked breathlessly.

“They’ve been sitting here for quite some time,” Isla replied with a slight grin. “Once we find the right size that suits you, I’ll have the other sizes removed.”

Alessia didn’t understand why a closet of dresses in various sizes would just sit in there, but she was too distracted by all their gorgeousness to continue asking questions.

Her family certainly hadn’t been wealthy.

She was told they always had to lie low to avoid being noticed, including homeschooling and staying indoors as much as possible.

She hadn’t experienced any sort of luxury—certainly nothing like this.

Her eyes strayed to a gown the color of a red ruby, which reminded her of the sky outside.

It had a fitted bodice with a sweetheart neckline that flared out at the waist, and the velvet bell sleeves were ever so soft against her fingertips.

“Are you sure this is appropriate for a dinner ?” Alessia hadn’t worn anything like this before in her entire life.

Isla grabbed the gown and ushered her out of the closet. “His Majesty will expect it.”

Of course. Erebos was one of those men who required females to look and act a certain way. He probably expected her to know which fork to use for salad and lift her pinky while drinking tea.

Alessia smiled to herself at what a rude awakening he was about to experience.

When the dress was on, Alessia covered her chest with her hands. Her breasts were spilling out of the top, but Isla reassured her it was supposed to look like that as she fussed with her hairpins again, attempting to make everything perfect.

Isla had pulled her hair half up, half down so that some of her long, delicately curled strands were still visible beside her face. The makeup she had used brought Alessia’s cheeks back to life—a soft pink against her pale skin.

“Beautiful,” Isla announced proudly. “You look like a queen.”

Alessia scoffed. “You barely know me, Isla. I am hardly a queen. Let’s just get this dinner over with.”

After being escorted by Isla to the grand dining hall and seeing a little bit more of the castle along the way, it was precisely how Alessia had imagined it.

A long, black table with regal, red velvet chairs occupied the entire span of the ballroom, allowing it to accommodate more than twenty people if desired. Candelabras placed around the room created a haunting yet ethereal vibe, much like a Gothic mid-century castle should.

A sparkling chandelier from above shone down on the decadent food laid out on the table runner. Roasted chicken, vegetables, potatoes, bread… Alessia internally moaned at the smell of carbs. She was starving after living off two granola bars for the past few days.

Erebos was in a deep conversation with Eryx while Izara gracefully cut her chicken.

It was hard to look away from Erebos, especially when he looked like that.

He was almost as dressed up as she was, and now they both looked like they were from the 1800s.

He wore a white waistcoat with trousers and a red velvet frock coat, and his curls were slicked back to push the strands away from his face.

The skeletal hands were peeking out of the top collar of his shirt, showcasing the sharp cut of his jawline.

Isla pushed her forward into the room, instructing her to walk, but Alessia couldn’t tear her eyes away from Erebos.

The man was arrogant, selfish, and didn’t have a kind bone in his body, but that didn’t detract from his attractiveness. It made her wonder if he ever put that wicked tongue to good use in ways aside from being insufferable.

Maybe all it took was a good pair of thighs to shut him up and render him?—

Erebos’s eyes shot to hers, and suddenly she was staring directly into the depths of Hell. Those onyx orbs were lethal, weapons of their own as he did a lazy perusal of her dress, lingering on the bodice for a beat too long.

His attention had her spine straightening.

At that moment, she despised the sudden, incessant need she felt for his approval.

Erebos’s opinion of her didn’t matter in the slightest, and yet, her cheeks still warmed beneath his scrutiny.

She watched the way his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip.

Found herself enamored when he discreetly shifted in his chair, lifting his brows towards her in challenge.

Then, with an insufferable smirk, his voice filtered into her mind like a bucket of ice water to her lust-filled imagination.

Careful what you wish for, Little Mortal.