Page 43 of Queen of the Wicked (Afterlife #1)
Alessia
T he castle was in full swing as the staff prepared for the upcoming ball.
Venturing through the halls, Alessia passed numerous servants whisking away flowers, banners, and tablecloths towards the ballroom she had yet to see. Alessia spent most of her time in her room, curled up with the Book of Death as she moved through the thick tome at an agonizingly slow pace.
She had hoped to spend more time with her mother after their picnic yesterday, but Erebos had requested that she spend a few days with Eryx at the training grounds, a few miles south, to offer insight on their forces.
Alessia understood the threat the realm faced, so she didn’t dare challenge the lord on his suggestion.
He had the former general with likely centuries of experience at his disposal.
If she were Erebos, she would have made the same decision.
Preparing the forces should be the top priority.
When her eyes burned from reading, she decided to take a break by exploring the preparations for the ball, but what she didn’t expect was to be hit with a sweet, decadent smell that had her mouth watering.
Following its path, she wound through multiple halls, rolling her eyes at the sudden brush of wind against her back.
“I don’t need to be monitored, Ambroz.” The skeletal servant followed her no matter where she went.
He was always two steps behind, hardly allowing her the room to breathe unless she was safely holed up in her room.
“I am instructed to do so, My Lady.”
Spinning on her heel, the ivory dress swished behind her. “Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked.
“Because I am instructed to do so.”
“And you just have to follow everything Erebos orders of you?”
He cocked his neck to the side, the cervical vertebrae elongating at an odd angle. “He is the ruler of this realm, and he employs me. It is my duty to follow his demands.”
“I’m going to discuss this with the ruler of this realm,” she muttered, resuming her pace towards the cinnamon, heavenly aroma. “There is no reason you should waste your time following me through the halls when I’m sure you have more important things to do.”
As the fragrance grew stronger, Alessia’s stomach rumbled, and she felt nearly starved when she reached the kitchens.
It was a different universe that resembled a tornado.
Multiple demons bustled around with flour-dusted cheeks and foreheads slicked with sweat.
The countertops were covered in baking pans, mixing bowls, and splashes of chocolate, but one woman in particular stood at the center of the chaos, shouting orders left and right.
With full hips and a round, chubby face, she held a pastry bag in one hand, smothering what looked to be cinnamon buns with a delicious, mouth-watering icing. “Take the cookies out!” she shouted. “Let them cool before you frost them.”
Alessia didn’t think she was supposed to be in here, but she couldn’t resist the display of sweet treats, ushered in purely by her own greed to get her hands on one.
The woman flicked her brown eyes to hers before swiping a hand across her forehead, leaving a streak of flour against her dark skin. “Can I help you?” she asked, slightly annoyed at the intrusion.
Ambroz floated into the kitchens, ready to diffuse the situation. “Good evening, Jamila. This is Alessia Eastwood.”
At the mention of her name, the piping bag she held clattered to the counter before she dropped into a curtsy.
The sight was alarming, given that the people in this realm only did so to royalty.
“Forgive me, My Lady. His Majesty has informed us of your arrival, but we have not yet had the privilege of meeting you. Have the meals been to your liking?”
“Jamila is the head chef here at the castle,” Ambroz explained to a highly confused Alessia. Although she was only a guest, Jamila acted as if she said one wrong thing to her, she’d be banished to the Unknown.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Alessia smiled warmly, attempting to ease the woman’s nerves. “The meals have been delicious. I was roaming the halls when I smelled your cinnamon rolls.”
“I am pleased to hear that.” She gestured to the other cooks, who had stopped what they were doing to focus all their attention on her. “Apologies for the rough introduction. We are preparing for the ball tomorrow, so there is much to be done. It can be stressful.”
“Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing since I was the one who interrupted.”
Jamila stared at her like she’d grown a third head. “My Lady, you do not need?—”
“Has everyone been instructed to call me that?” She glanced at Ambroz, who solemnly nodded.
“Please, call me Alessia. Just Alessia.” There was no reason to treat her like anything but the human girl she was from Earth.
If this was how they reacted now, she couldn’t imagine what would happen when they learned she was the harbinger.
Jamila dipped her chin, showcasing her floral-patterned headwrap. “Would you like to try a cinnamon roll? You are free to take as many as you please.”
She didn’t need to tell her twice.
Practically lunging for the sweet treat, Alessia moaned when the stickiness hit her tongue. This was one of the best things she’d ever tasted, and she contemplated telling Jamila to put it on the menu permanently so she could have one every morning. “It’s delicious, Jamila. Do you need any help?”
“Help?” Jamila exchanged a look with Ambroz. “That is not required. We can handle it ourselves.”
“Oh, I firmly believe that after tasting quite literally the best pastry I’ve ever had, but I have nothing else to do. I want to help.” And maybe eat another cinnamon roll or two in the process.
Stealing another wary glance at Ambroz, Jamila eventually sighed in defeat and pointed to the dirty aprons hanging by the fridge. “You can help me make the rest.”
An hour later, the second batch of cinnamon rolls was in the oven, and Alessia was covered head to toe in icing and flour.
Jamila had eventually warmed up to her, and together, they fell into a comfortable silence as she rolled the dough and Alessia iced.
The head chef was highly respected here, but Alessia had learned she’d worked for Erebos for two decades, choosing to remain in Hell after the lord had freed her.
She held rank amongst the other demons in the kitchens, and they were quick to abide by her orders.
“What do we have here?”
Alessia’s eyes shot to Erebos, who had entered the kitchens with raised brows. He leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the mess of a kitchen and Alessia in an apron with a scrutiny she couldn’t decipher.
“Your Majesty.” Jamila dipped into a curtsy, eyes cast on the floor. “Alessia requested to help with the desserts for the ball tomorrow. I hope that is all right.”
Erebos couldn’t hide his smile, and it got so silent in the kitchen that Alessia was certain a pin would be heard if it dropped. The staff stared at the lord with gaping mouths, as if they couldn’t believe he could produce a happy emotion. “You like to bake?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t think I’m any good at it.” She grimaced at her mess of an apron. “Jamila has been a great instructor, though.”
“I am glad to hear it.” He nodded his thanks to the head chef, scanning the bowls and pans around them. “You made icing?”
“For the cinnamon rolls,” Alessia supplied. “Again, I don’t know if it’s any good. I followed Jamila’s instructions, but I could have easily messed it up by not measuring?—”
Words stalled in her throat when Erebos closed the distance between them, lifted her finger covered with icing, and licked it.
His dark, foreboding eyes that promised nothing but sinful pleasure remained locked on hers as he sucked the digit clean before releasing it with a loud pop.
“Tastes sweet,” he drawled. “You did a great job.”
Alessia glanced around the kitchen, expecting everyone to be shell-shocked since Erebos just did a very hard launch for his intentions towards her, but the cooks had resumed their tasks, and the same with Jamila.
No one thought his actions were out of the ordinary.
They even ignored the scent of cherries that wafted between them, and it definitely wasn’t from a pie cooking in the nearby oven.
“We agreed that we could touch each other, no?” Erebos grinned and placed his hand on her waist. “Or is that off the table now? ”
Alessia swatted his hand away. “Touching and sucking are two very different things.”
“Are they?” Erebos laughed, and one of the cooks dropped a pan in response. “I guess you’ll have to show me the difference.”
“Erebos!” Alessia moved without thinking, taking her other hand and swiping frosting on his nose. She held her breath, fearing how he’d react, but all those fears melted away when he produced a belly gut laugh and said, “Jamila, we need more icing. I have revenge I need to bestow upon someone.”
“Jamila, we do not need more icing,” Alessia said with a roll of her eyes. She giggled and passed him a napkin beside one of the mixing spoons. “And to think I was going to ask if you wanted to spend time in your study tonight. What a shame.”
“Oh? Are you missing my fireplace that badly?”
She shrugged, loving this new, flirty banter between them. “Amongst other things.” The cozy chair she slept so well in. The blanket he always covered her with. The peace she felt when he was there.
Him.
“That is a shame indeed. However, I still intend to review some paperwork there. Perhaps you will find a semblance of forgiveness for me in the next hour and join me, Little Mortal.”
Her emerald eyes glistened in amusement. “ Perhaps , Lord of Hell.”