“Never stopped me before.” Selene sighed.
“Oh, just sit and have a drink with me, thief. For that inspired bit of trickery, you can have the damn book.”
Selene’s interest pricked up at that. She placed the book in a corner of the veranda.
“Help me to the seat. There should be a bottle of the good stuff in the oak chest over there.” Selene complied, helping the old man sit. “What’s your name dear girl?”
From dirty thief to dear girl? She might have to use this poison more often. She poured them both a glass of spirits.
“Domina Milena Amethyst, at your service,” Selene replied, holding out her hand.
The old man nearly choked on his liquor. She smiled with more than a hint of sass.
“Explains the sticky fingers, I suppose,” he grumbled. He took her soot-stained hand in his and kissed the back of it. His grin was wolfish when he replied, “Darius Bloodstone, Emperor of Lethe.”
The most accomplished musicians played stringed instruments at a volume sure to please the ear without the need to strain one’s voice. All manner of neatly planted foliage bloomed around them, their fragrant flowers scenting the mild mid-morning air. Prince Belisarius sat at a table with a pristinely white tablecloth and perfectly arranged silver teacups, holding court with the eldest Dominae Topaz, Emerald and Opal, sipping delicate tea and making entirely decent conversation. Domina Emerald had the warm, deep brown skin and glittering green eyes of her line, her black hair swept up in intricate braids. Topaz had the distinctive amber eyes, copper skin and dark hair of her father, while Opal had a spell-binding opalescence to the whites of her black eyes along with her blue-black hair and fair skin. Though their figures ranged from petite to voluptuous, each was charm and femininity personified. Not a one used light mage charms to enhance her beauty.
Domina Topaz was smooth with her compliments, Domina Opal quick with her wit and Domina Emerald enlightening with her keen insights. Each noblewoman shone in her own way without losing ground to the other two. Glittering jewels and fashionable dresses had been chosen with military precision for their desired effect. Perfect etiquette, politic responses, practised laughs and mannerisms—these were their weapons of choice. It was nothing less than a true battle for his attentions and affections. He sat with the very crème de la crème of noblewomen.
Belisarius was also enormously bored. These were the very same conversations he’d had a thousand times since he was old enough to understand how this marriage game was played. It was why he’d eschewed personally meeting with noblewomen most of his life. As their conversations played out, a great many predictable, meaningless words were spoken, many from him. It was nigh impossible to discern the real women beneath the polished dominae in a forum like this.
At least everyone partaking in this tea had the good grace to ignore the raucous, bawdy laughter emanating from the emperor’s veranda. It was an odd sound this time of day. His father rarely woke before noon, and only bothered with female companionship after dark. At least the emperor seemed to be in good spirits. Whoever the woman was, Belisarius might need to take note of her and ensure she made herself available more often. While he resented his father for shirking his duties, he had no desire to see him suffer misery and loneliness.
No, only one thing truly marred the event. The poison mage hadn’t bothered to show her face. Her attendance had been mandatory. Belisarius couldn’t falsely affiance himself to her if it was known that she had failed to attend these gatherings. The metals mage had shown up and was dutifully taking a stroll through the gardens on Marduk’s arm, while the eldest Domina Diamond was staring with deadened eyes at Nicephorus and exchanging banalities.
In only a short time he would need to announce Selene as his princess consort. She needed to plausibly claw her way to the top of society—and ostensibly his notice—before then. Being the only domina not in attendance, her absence was palpable, her disrespect once again blatant and public. No self-respecting man would choose such a harridan for his wife. As the work required for his plans to succeed grew, his mood darkened.
When the event ended, he saw all the dominae off and promised each a dance after dinner. He sent a glance Marduk’s way, then to his praetor. The strategos nodded and kept Iliana behind with him. Once only the three men and Iliana remained, Belisarius dropped the polite mask.
“Where has your friend gone? I doubt she would leave you behind, but I could be wrong.”
“I don’t know. I’ve already explained to Marduk that I am not her keeper.” Iliana raised a defiant chin, her spine ramrod straight.
When would these women stop giving him a headache? The blonde was supposed to be the more reasonable of the two. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a steadying breath.
“Find her and place her under house arrest. She doesn’t leave her room without an escort and she will attend every scheduled event. She will behave like a domina, one attempting to garner my affections. Have one of the royal tutors drill etiquette into her skull until her ears bleed. If she refuses, she’ll not receive a single coin of compensation and will be thrown in the dungeons,” Belisarius ordered Marduk, who bowed.
Iliana gasped and glared at Marduk, stomping on his foot in a fit of pique. As she spoke, she punctuated each of her sentences with a disapproving poke to the man’s chest.
“How can a man of your stature be so spineless? You’re not even going to argue about how ridiculous his reaction is to Selene not attending a single tea party? I thought you had a better head on your shoulders.”
“There is nothing I’ve said which has been out of line, Iliana. Your friend agreed to my terms. She should know to obey them,” Belisarius huffed.
“With all due respect, Your Royal Highness, she agreed to be a false fiancée, not obey your every whim. She’s not a beast to be tamed. As it stands, your orders make you no better than the magistri.”
The metals mage must have a core of molten iron to defy him so, her blue eyes flashing with ill-advised anger. Belisarius glared but she refused to back down.
“I am nothing like those monsters,” he ground out.
“You are cut from the same cloth so long as you see us as tools rather than people.” Iliana glared, curtsied indignantly, and excused herself.
“Shall I arrange tutors for the both of them?” Nicephorus narrowed his eyes at her retreating form.
“No. Just have Selene found.” Belisarius sighed.
Gods, had he just been told off by a young woman? It shamed him to have lost his cool so quickly. That damned poison mage kept finding her way under his skin.
His father’s howls of laughter caught his attention once more.