Page 27 of Poisoned Empire

“Yes. Help me into some sensible clothes. I’m going to visit the smith.”

Decision made, the serving girl helped her out of her complicated, bejewelled dress and into a nondescript frock. Thus garbed, she wound her way through the palace unmolested. Iliana had spotted the smoke of the blacksmith’s workshops on her first tour of the palace grounds. Now she simply had to convince them that a magister’s daughter was both capable and determined enough to be there.

If the results of this farce weren’t so essential to the peace and stability of Lethe, Marduk might have laughed at the prince’s predicament. Having just met Belisarius on his rounds, Marduk had been informed of the latest development. Unfortunately, the poison mage had been quite correct. A change in character drastic enough to meet the prince’s requirements would raise suspicions higher than the eyebrows Selene already elicited with her current behaviour.

Of the three of them, Marduk felt he had the most enviable assignment. He neither had to spar with a harridan nor make polite conversation with the living dead. He even found himself perversely charmed by Iliana’s fits of boldness. As he headed towards the sparring grounds, he noticed an unusual gathering of men peering into the smith’s workshops. Had the old man finished a new sword? Marduk couldn’t help his detour.

“You can feel the difference in weight, can’t you? It’s perfectly balanced. Now try hitting the target,” Iliana said.

“Five silvers says it’s as off as the first.”

“I’ll take that, I say it hits closer.”

“I’d say you’ll be out five silvers. Old man couldn’t hit the side of a barn if he tried.”

Marduk watched, arms crossed, as Iliana coached the old blacksmith into holding a dagger and aiming for a target across the workshop. The entirety of the shop had ceased work for the spectacle. Marduk almost felt sorry for the girl. The man’s aim was legendarily bad. Still, he would be here to salvage the situation when it—

The dagger sank into the centre of the target. Shocked silence reigned.

“And that, gentlemen, is the power of a master metals mage. There is simply nothing superior to a well-enchanted blade.”

Excited chatter drowned out what Iliana said to the blacksmith, who gazed up at her with profound respect, shaking her hand. Good gods, blades that never missed their mark? Arrows that always found their target? The possibilities were endless. Marduk’s mind buzzed with the potentials. Plot or not, he wanted this mage, even if she did have a tendency towards inadvisable outbursts when angered.

“Domina Sapphire, a moment of your time,” Marduk called, voice and body cutting through the crowd.

Men parted with respectful mutters of‘Strategos’. Iliana looked up, her painfully plain dress smeared with grease and grit, hair swept up, platinum tendrils slicked against her tawny skin. One such tendril curled down her neck, inviting the eye to follow it to her cleavage. Which was substantial. He swallowed back a sudden hungry pang.

She blushed, fingering her plain dress, her brow knotting.

She turned to curtsy to the workmen.

“Gentlemen.”

They bowed en-masse, some more clumsily than others.

“Visit anytime you wish, Domina.”

She nodded, giving Marduk her hand, her fingers curling in on a gasp as she caught sight of the dark smears on her hands. He took her hand anyway, tucking it into the crook of his arm. If that meant her hip occasionally brushed against him, he was not one to complain. She was quiet, refusing to meet his eyes. He supposed she might think herself in trouble.

“How are you with a sword?”

“Passable, I think.” She raised her pale brows, her tone uncertain.

“And with a sword you enchanted personally?”

Her gaze turned shrewd. Good.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m willing to offer you a lucrative contract with the Imperial Forge if you can impress me with your very best enchanted bladework.”

“And what would I need to do in order to impress you?” she asked, eyes wide as she leaned into him.

Too close. He could feel her every soft curve. He cleared his throat.

“Show me something I’ve never seen before.”

Iliana chewed her full, bottom lip, wetting it with her tongue. Did she know what she was doing? Gods help him if she did.

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