Page 117 of Poisoned Empire

The praetor was quite correct, but Belisarius had an idea. He grabbed a comfortable pair of leather boots and pulled them on. He turned to Marduk.

“Take me to the griffin.”

A knowing look lit his friend’s face. He showed Belisarius the way.

“Your Majesty, this isn’t the time to be rash! She made her choice!” Nicephorus called after him.

“On the contrary, praetor, it would be foolish if Ididn’tact.”

When they barged into the griffin’s rooms, they stumbled upon the remnants of a veritable bacchanalia. Nude or nearly nude men and women slept haphazardly across chairs, couches and rugs. Bottles of wine, empty and half-full, decorated every level surface, while glasses were strewn across tables or remained clutched in the hands of sleeping orgy-goers. Belisarius waded through it all and roused Lord Renfreid, shaking him loose from a tangle of limbs.

“Oh! What a pleasure, Your Majesty. Have you come to partake?”

“No. I’ve come for your immediate assistance. How swiftly can you fly?”

Selene sat listlessly at the stern of her ship, watching as Lethe faded into nothing more than a few indistinct hills in the distance. She’d never been to the sea, but she found she liked the scent. Already the constant swaying and the crashing of the waves soothed her. A few puffy white clouds dotted a serene sky. The captain, a brother to Magister Opal, approached her genially.

“Where would you like to set sail? If we’re to go West, we’ll need to catch the currents soon.”

She blinked up at him, silent for a time, long enough to make the man uncomfortable. Did it matter where she went?

“Somewhere better,” she answered.

“Ah. Right,” he replied, uncertain.

Her vacant stare drove him off. Not even her mountains of gold sitting prettily in the hull could brighten her dark mood. It was time to stop looking back. No amount of yearning would help her current state. Crossing the deck, she sat at the bow. She’d made her choice, painful though it might be. At least this way, she wouldn’t grow to hate herself and everyone around her.

The crew called back and forth to one another, but she paid them no mind, lost in her own thoughts. It wasn’t until a shadow passed overhead that she finally looked up. The underside of a griffin in flight greeted her. It soared, turned around and rushed straight at her. Selene ducked. Instead of talons, a body soared over her head and hit the deck rolling. When she dared get up, Renfreid had appeared, buck naked, and Belisarius, dressed like a commoner and battered by the wind, scrambled to his feet and shot Renfreid a dirty look. She narrowed her eyes, her blood boiling.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Where else would I be?” Belisarius asked with a grin on his face as he approached.

“Sitting on your throne. Choosing a wife,” she spat back.

His smile only grew the closer he got. She could strangle him for it.

“I abdicated,” he replied calmly.

“You-”

“And I’ll have no one but you for my wife.”

She stood rooted to the spot, utterly stunned. He must be playing some cruel joke on her.

“Then enjoy your bachelorhood.”

He loomed over her, his dark hair a messy halo around his handsome face. He reached out to touch her cheek. Foolishly, she let him.

“It occurs to me that you need the kind of man who will put you first, above all else.”

He leaned down until they were nose to nose, their eyes meeting.

“So, I decided I needed to become that man. Please say you’ll have me.”

“You—what about the empire? I just finished fixing-”

He put a finger to her lips.

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