Page 28 of Poisoned Empire

“Deal.”

She stopped, held out her hand and shook his with confidence. He couldn’t wait to see what she was capable of.

A trickle of sweat ran from Iliana’s hairline down her neck. Her hands touched the blade in front of her, her magic pulsing through it, remaking it as though it were being forged anew. Even quality metal like this could only handle a few enchantments in total before crumbling or shattering. Her magic was, as most magic, a matter of willing it into existence and endless practice. For enchantments in particular, her specialty, it meant giving an object precise, simple instructions—if this, then that. And every metal and alloy spoke a slightly different dialect. Iliana prided herself on knowing them all. She’d heard some in foreign lands had to speak or write their spells, but in Lethe, it was all about intention made manifest, her magic the language and the speaker.

This enchantment had to be truly impressive to win a contract with the Imperial Forge. Their metals mages set the standards throughout the empire, and they had access to rare ores with boundless possibilities and languages she’d never heard. Undaunted, she knew her strengths. She just needed the right amount of drama. The last exciting thing that had shaken the world of enchanted blades had been rust-proofing steel decades ago. Iliana suspected the comfort of guaranteed patronage at the Forge dulled their minds. Setting the first blade aside, she picked up another.

Iliana enchanted the second blade with a special something she’d mused about. Never having wielded it in practice, it was a gamble, but with the right amount of luck and bravado it could work. Enchantment complete, she rose from her seat beside the rack of weapons, picking up her first blade and stepped into the sparring ring. Her opponent was an ebony-skinned, green-eyed young man in his leather practice armour. He was tall, well-muscled and lean. The way he held himself and moved suggested he could balance on the head of a pin and strike fast. Thankfully, she only needed to be able to parry a single blow for this enchantment to work.

“I want to see the difference between a standard sword from the armoury and your own work.” Marduk turned towards his man. “Treat this seriously, but do not harm the domina.”

“I would never dream of it.” The young man raised his chin, affronted.

Marduk clapped him on the shoulder as he exited the ring.

“Just a caution, Julius—she has no formal training.”

“Understood.” He nodded.

Damn! For this to work, she needed him to truly swing at her.

“If you’re too soft, I’ll cut right through you,” she taunted.

A mischievous grin lit the man’s face, transforming the seriousness of a soldier into one of delight. He was dazzling.

“Begin!”

He lunged. Iliana only managed to parry at the last moment, but it was enough. She had sensed enough of the other blade’s enchantment to get an idea of what she needed. As they circled each other she added a little extra something into her own sword.

“Come on now, I’ll even let you get a free hit in. I swear it on my honour.” He bowed.

Iliana was sure her grin was anything but ladylike.

“Honour is for the dead!”

Iliana rushed him, swinging her sword down on his. He blocked it in just the way she predicted he would. His grin was wiped clean off his face when her blade cut through his in an instant, forcing him to leap back before her blade went through him just as easily.

The young man looked at her, looked at his half blade, tossed it aside and marched towards her as tense silence consumed the arena. He dropped to one knee before her.

“Marry me.”

The silence broke to the sound of hoots and shouts. Iliana blushed and scowled. She was here to showcase her work, not flirt with soldiers, no matter how handsome or talented.

“Don’t jest. It’s not amusing.”

“But I-”

“Alright Julius, thank you. Domina, I believe you enchanted a second weapon. I would be honoured to be your opponent this time.” Marduk pulled the man up and delivered him to the ribbing and jokes of his comrades. The green-eyed soldier appeared crestfallen.

Iliana took a deep breath before she nodded. It would do her no good to be beset by nerves now. This time she would need all her focus. Placing the first blade back in its stand, she picked up the second. Her showstopper. She squared her shoulders, ready as Marduk was handed a regular sword. Silence enveloped the crowd once more.

“I will go slowly.”

“It’s your funeral,” Iliana bluffed.

All those hours practicing her poker face with Selene had been worth it for this moment alone. His genuine smile nearly struck her dumb. Her heart skipped in her chest, and she had the strangest urge to smile back. Perhaps the soldiers of the imperial army were chosen for appearances as well as skill. They circled, and, true to his word, his swing was something she could parry, if that had been her intent. Instead, she allowed the metals to smash before unleashing the enchantment in the blade. Startled cries erupted from the crowd as the blades, once solid, liquefied, melded together and gathered on Iliana’s hilt to create a sword twice as long and wicked-looking.

Marduk was left holding a bladeless hilt. She pointed her blade at him. With all the showmanship she could muster, she raised her chin, a small smile curving her lips, brows ever so slightly arched, her tone politely bemused.

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