River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)(55)

I nod, unsure where this is going. It seems like she’s not pissed anymore but I can’t trust anyone in this castle, especially anyone in Death’s immediate family.

“Anyway, normally I’d probably kill you for doing what you did,” she says with a big smile, her teeth perfect and blindingly white. “I do have a reputation to uphold as the Daughter of Death. But usually it’s some stupid shaman, like the one you were with, that tries to outsmart me. It’s never been a woman before, let alone a mortal woman. So I’ve decided I don’t want to kill you. I think I’d rather be your friend.” She leans forward and extends her hand.

I hesitate, then shake it. Her grip is warm and firm and I try to match it.

“Now,” she says, letting go and clapping her hands together, “time to get you dressed for tonight. This is so exciting!”

I concur, Raila says as she wraps a fluffy black towel around me, another item that must have been smuggled from the Upper World. I mean, the normal world. My world. Fuck, am I already starting to talk like them?

“What’s so special about tonight?” I ask as Raila helps me step out of the tub. “It’s just dinner, right?”

Lovia flounces over to the wardrobe and opens it. Unlike the slow deliberate way that Death found the perfect nightgown for me, Lovia erratically flips through the dresses hanging in it. “Tonight you’re our special guest, and it’s been so long since we’ve had a guest here.” She pauses as she pulls out a black gown and peers at it. “Although, I suppose your father was a guest. But he was never invited for dinner.” She puts the dress back and continues her haphazard rifling. “I take it as a very, very good sign.”

“A good sign of what?” I ask, hugging the towel close and coming over to her, the floor cold against my soles.

“That he likes you,” she says, flashing me a bright smile before rummaging again.

I laugh. “Likes me? I’m his prisoner. He’s literally promised to ruin and destroy me for eternity.”

“Ah, he says a lot of things,” she says. “His bark is worse than his bite. I mean, most of the time. Sure, sometimes he’ll randomly give someone,” she lowers her voice dramatically and wiggles her fingers, “the hand,” then she smiles “but who doesn’t lose their temper every now and then? Besides, you’re gorgeous and you’re mortal and you’re the daughter of a shaman. All the things that fascinate him.” She pauses, bringing out a yellow dress now, and frowns. “Actually, he hates all mortals. And all shamans. But still. If you play your cards right, you’ll marry him.”

I blink at her. “You actually want me to marry your father? You don’t even know me.”

“That’s true,” she says, pulling out a red dress now and comparing it to the yellow. “But it’s not every day a non-dead mortal girl comes waltzing into Tuonela, especially one who can fight nearly as good as I can. It was like you were trained by Vipunen yourself. But of course you weren’t…” she squints at me, “were you?”

“I don’t even know who this Vipunen is,” I explain.

“Didn’t think so. It’s an honor to be trained by him. But play your cards right, and soon you will be. No queen can live here being untrained, especially with all the rumors about an uprising. You have to be ready when the Old Gods resurface to take the throne.”

She thrusts the red dress out and holds it against me, studying me like a fine arts student scrutinizing a painting. “This was mine once, but I never wore it. You’re a bit thicker than I am, nothing to take personally, I know you mortal women take offense to body stuff, but I think you’ll look good in it.”

I’m not taking offense to what she said, I’m stuck on the other thing. “This uprising…the Old Gods are going to resurface and take the throne? As in your father’s throne?”

She nods and then places the dress in my hands. It’s deceptively heavy with many layers. “Hopefully I won’t be here when that happens,” she says.

“And where are you going to be?”

“In your old world,” she says with a dreamy grin. “I want to live among the mortal boys for the rest of eternity, have fun in all the wonderful cities, eat all the delicious foods, and drive all the cars. Except I can’t go now. I ferry the dead. It’s my role, and though Tuonen, my brother, can handle it, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to do it all the time. But if you married my father, maybe I wouldn’t be missed.”

Arms up, Raila commands me, taking the dress from my hands.

I absently hand it over and raise my hands, my towel dropping to the floor.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I tell Lovia as Raila slips the dress over my head. It smells like heady perfume, gardenia maybe. “But I think you’re getting ahead of yourself here. I’m your father’s prisoner. He let my father go and took me instead. What he has planned might not be to marry me.”

It might be to have his way with me, then place a bare hand on me and send me off to Oblivion.

Lovia thinks that over for a moment. “Well, maybe. But there’s something to be said for looking on the bright side, isn’t there? Now, that dress is darling on you. Really. Let’s figure out what to do with this hair of yours. It’s nearly as long as mine.”