Page 71 of The Last Slayer
I didn’t really look at most of them. What did I know about the latest fashion trends? So I opted for the most scientific method of picking out an outfit: eeny-meeny-miney-moe.
“That one.” My finger pointed at a long gown of purple so deep it was almost the color of midnight. Lace and tiny seed-pearl trimming accentuated its fluid lines.
The seamstress who had made the dress sank onto the floor in a graceful obeisance. “You honor me, milady.”
“Sure, anytime,” I said. “Can I get dressed now?”
Their eyes lowered, the other liliths took a step back. Charity waved them away. “Dismissed.”
They bowed as one and left, their movements elegant and uniform.
The remaining seamstress rose to her feet. She was a small thing, almost childlike in size and proportion. She was also the first Asian lilith I’d seen. Her dark chocolate eyes were clear and intelligent, and nothing about her hinted any unhealthy lust for eternal youth or other mortally unobtainable things. But looks could be deceiving.
“May I?” she asked.
I nodded and tugged the sash around my waist. My silk bathrobe obligingly slid to the floor. The seamstress came closer and helped me into the dress. Although it looked easy to put on, it had a couple of complicated underthings—a corset and a funny wiry-looking deal for the skirt so that it would flare out around the hips, converge around my knees, then spread outward again as the petal-soft fabric ran down toward my feet.
Everything fit perfectly. I looked at myself in a mirror and had to restrain from whistling. I’d never looked like this, ever, not even when Valerie had forced a torturous makeover session on me. I was actually curvy…with a real butt. And the cleavage! The corset added at least an extra cup size, and I couldn’t help but stare. I surreptitiously reached up to cop a feel. They were soft and springy. I hated to admit it, but I could sort of understand men’s obsession with breasts now. Mine were great!
The seamstress worked quickly, but I soon started to get bored. Girly primping was Valerie’s thing, not mine. “How long have you been a lilith?” I asked.
“Five years, milady.” Her nimble fingers started up the small of my back, following a path of tiny pearl buttons.
“Do you enjoy your work?”
“It’s rewarding in many ways.”
“How old are you in mortal years?”
“Eighteen.”
Jeez. Was it legal to sign one’s life away as a sex slave at the tender age of thirteen? A tinge of censure added an edge to my tone. “Is eternal youth worth it?”
Her fingered slowed momentarily. “My village was very poor, and my family the poorest in the village. We were fortunate because I have some small skill with needles.” She finished buttoning the last pearl on my back. “Lady Nahemah has been more than generous to them in recompense for my talents.”
My cheeks pinkened in the mirror.
Her eyes lifted briefly and met mine. They held no condemnation or anger. “I hope the dress pleases you.”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “It does.”
“Is it comfortable?”
I moved my arms and sat down, got up and walked around. “I think so.”
Satisfied, she nodded and produced a pair of matching sandals, laying them at my bare feet. “For you, milady. They’re designed specifically for this dress.”
I slipped them on. Despite the stiletto heels, they were very comfortable and fit perfectly.
“These are great,” I said, almost in awe. I felt like I could run a marathon in them.
She gave me a small smile. “Thank you, milady. I hope you enjoy the banquet.” She bowed and left.
Charity came forward and circled around me. “You look exquisite, milady. Like a Tyrolean queen.”
Exquisite was the word, even though I had a reflection I didn’t recognize as my own. I wanted to laugh at the irony. The face I’d lived with for twenty-seven years had been a lie. When Valerie finally regained conscious and saw me, would she believe it was me? How would everyone react to my transformation? I was starting to think that this supernatural stuff might be fun.
And if being a supernatural was okay, then maybe being with a supernatural would also be okay. I mean, now that I looked like a match for Ramiel. And what we had shared in the bathroom… There was a connection between us now. Surely a feeling that deep, that profound, couldn’t be bad.
