House of Blight (The Threadmender Chronicles, #1)

by Maxym M. Martineau

When the stars were young and the sun was new, a woman of great power and strong mind met Death at a four-way crossing.

And while Death lay crumpled in the crossroads, feeling bitter and cheated, he decided he’d allow the woman and her kin to feel safe for a time—long enough for all to forget the power of her bargain and everything she left out.

I’d always found cemeteries a bit odd—they housed the dead, but the dead didn’t need them. The dead didn’t need anything. The very existence of graves, of coffins, felt like a living riddle. What was made for the deceased but comforted the living? A silk-lined box.

I’d rather work for myself than work to be someone else’s version of “suitable.”

Because why would anything ever go according to plan?