Death is My Frenemy Rewritten (Book 3 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 33: An Unforeseen Marriage

TGIF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeahhhhh, I decided this book is definitely done yet and I was just anxious. Hehe :p

Scream "CUPCAKE!!!!" if you're freaking TF out rn.

ALSO PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THIS IS AN UNEDITED ROUGH DRAFT AND THE PUBLISHED VERSON WILL LOOK SOOOO DIFF I SWEAR THESE LAST CHAPTERS ARE SO COMPLICATED IN MY HEAD LMFAOOOOO

VERY IMPORTANT UPDATES AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER <3

And so began an uproarious party from Hell.

A masquerade ball. The Nocturnal Masqurade, as Death had called it. Victorian guests dressed in their fanciful nightwear clothes laughed, shouted, and chatted merrily all around the room, with chalices filled with what was presumably alcohol. The throne room had been redecorated and rearranged for this gathering, tables pushed out to the sides of the room so that the center of the stone floor was free and clear.

Ace and I were sat rather aggressively at the table, facing outward toward the center of the room where the partiers mainly mingled. Surrounding us were Death's shadow guards. They lined the wall behind us like statues, their ominous faces black holes into nothingness.

"Come one, come all!" Romeo, aka Petruchio, shouted across the throne room, standing on the table with his green and black jester clothes. His hands moved along the air; the smooth movements of his body as languid as a snake as he captured court's attention. "Who will cry like a little baby first before the blade strikes their throat? Hurry and place your bets!"

Romeo looked up at me with a discretely apologetic expression. I noticed the subtle glow to the gem around his throat matched the spark of pink in his eyes. He jumped down from the table with a click of his heels and landed before a blushing woman in blue. Pink swirled into the air and as he blew her a kiss as he walked by. That pink smoke slipped through her parted lips and turned her irises briefly pink as she sighed after him.

Clink.

Another patron flipped a coin into the bowl before me, snapping my attention away. Tilting my head up, a different drunken woman stood with her hand posed on her hip, while her other fanned her sweaty face from dancing. "I'd place my bet on the lady any day," she said. "We're tough creatures. She doesn't look she'll shed a single tear."

"Eh, don't be fooled," said the man beside her with an arrogant sniff. "She'll be tough until His Highness feels bored and spins that wheel of torture before her execution."

"Oh, how I love the wheel of torture!" said another woman with an eager clap. "Say, do think His Highness will bring out the rack?"

"The rack?" Ace asked.

"Yes, you know, the rack," the woman implored him to understand, as if talking to an idiot. "Where they tie your ankles and wrists to ropes and well, pull. In all directions. Until your joints dislocate and your limbs go flying off. Like a bird in flight." She gave a fainty laugh. "Peck, peck, little pigeons! Enjoy your last meal!"

She threw the little place hors d'oeuvres in her hand at my face. I flinched as the whole plate hit my face, puff pastries spilling into my lap.

Beneath the table, Ace's foot rested on mine.

"You can't ignore me forever, you know," Ace whispered, leaning forward on the table with his cuffed hands. The cuffs that suppressed his magic just like they suppressed my power.