She might not understand why she’d been called to the night realm, but she knew Nyxobas had good reason to hate her. She’d forced the high demon Bael, Nyxobas’s general, and his second in command, into signing his soul over to Emerazel. A twinge of guilt pierced her chest. Nyxobas had probably ordered Bael’s death since then. She didn’t imagine the god of night would forgive a tactical failure of that magnitude.
Her stomach tightened. And if Nyxobas hadn’t ordered Bael’s death, the high demon would probably rip her limb from limb. She’d completely destroyed his plans to take over the Shadow Kingdom.
A knock sounded at the door. “Don’t take too long in there,” Cera cautioned. “We mustn’t keep the lord waiting.”
Ursula rolled her eyes. Whoever “the lord” was, he sounded like a real prick.
After a final scrub of her legs, she rose, feeling the soapy water drip off her skin. She unplugged the drain and stepped from the tub, grabbing a towel. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin as she dried off.
Cera banged the door again. “You really don’t want to make him angry.”
Ursula tried to ignore the demon’s frantic knocking. Peering into the bag, she grabbed the tiny blue underwear and slipped into it. Somehow, it fit her perfectly. Probably precisely because Cera had seen her totally naked and was able to gauge her exact measurements. No bra, I see.
She grabbed the dress from the bag and pulled it over her head. The silky fabric skimmed luxuriously over her breasts, hips, and thighs before reaching the floor.
Her gazed flicked to the mirror, and a smile curled her lips. The neckline plunged to her belly button. Braless and with a daring neckline, she was exposing a little more than she normally would. But she had just proclaimed the importance of pride in one’s body, and she wasn’t going back on it now. Plus, she looked damn good.
She slipped into the silver heels, then turned to study her reflection again. She ran her fingers through her auburn waves, trying to tame them into submission. She had to admit—the red of her hair looked stunning against the cool tones of the dress. Cera might be cranky, but the woman was a genius with a needle and thread.
She leaned over, picking up the makeup page to unzip it. As Cera continued to hammer on the door, she lined her eyes with black, rouged her cheeks, and slicked her lips with a rather stunning shade of cherry red. A dusting of shimmery white powder over her cheekbones was the final touch.
If the lord could be mollified by makeup and dresses, she was certain this ensemble would do the trick.
She pulled open the bathroom door into the living room.
Cera beamed at her. Clearly, the woman was proud of her work. “The lord may have a bit of a shock when he sees you. But dark god above, it is gorgeous.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to offend the lord with a poor dress choice.”
Cera nodded enthusiastically, apparently missing her sarcasm. “Oh yes. Very true. Now, we must go.” She looked at the clock, visibly shuddering. “I don’t want to anger him,” she muttered, turning to hurry for the door. “Please come with me.”
Sharp claws of panic gripped her chest. She’d left her only weapon in the bathroom. “Wait,” she said. “I need to wee.”
“Not now!” scolded Cera.
Ignoring her, Ursula ran back to the bathroom. She gripped the robe, yanking the corkscrew from its pocket. She swallowed hard. Where the hell am I supposed to hide it in this outfit?
She didn’t have much of a choice. It was going in her thong or it wasn’t coming at all. Suddenly, she was no longer so keen on the dress’s sheer fabric. She hoisted up her skirt, tucking the corkscrew into the front of her knickers, pointy side up. She didn’t want the sharp bit doing any damage to the most delicate parts of her body.
“Hurry up!” Cera wailed.
Ursula smoothed out her hair, pulling open the bathroom door into the living room. She hoped her facial expression conveyed some sense of normality—as opposed to, “I’ve just shoved a corkscrew in my knickers, and I’m trying not to hurt myself.” Plastering a smile onto her face, she followed Cera through the hall and out the front door, trying not to look over the bridge’s railings. She didn’t need her stomach turning any more flips than it already was. Plus, vertigo and heels seemed like a bad combination.
This time, when they entered the lion atrium, Cera led her across the tiles. The demon climbed the stairs, pausing at the onyx door.
Ursula frowned. “Is this all part of the same manor?”
“Yes. You’re about to meet the lord who owns your apartments. He will have control over every aspect of your life for the next six months. So you understand why this is important to get right.”
She hugged herself. And if it all goes to shit, I’ll just fight him with the corkscrew in my knickers. Top planning, Ursula. You’ve really outdone yourself.
At the top of the stairs, Cera flicked her fingers. The heavy onyx door creaked open, revealing a tunnel.
Cera held out her hand, gesturing for Ursula to enter. “Go along. The lord is waiting for you.”
“You’re not coming?” said Ursula, her skin growing cold. With a growing sense of dread, she climbed the steps.
“No. He wants to meet with you alone.”