Page 37 of Poisoned Empire

The imperial library was dimly lit by enchanted lights and the odd narrow window. Selene had found herself a small sitting area near a display of ornamental armours and blunted, showy daggers. She would know, as she’d tried to steal a few. Though few nobles were about, Selene was not about to lose face to an impertinent nobody. Burgundy had taught her better.

“The Poison Compendium belongs to the greatest poison mage in the empire. If you feel differently, try to take it from me.”

She could see a bead of sweat trickling down the small section of his neck, visible above his high-necked scholar’s robe, the simple silk hems denoting his station. When he didn’t make his move, she resumed her perusal, turning the page slowly, relishing the power. She could get used to this.

He stumbled forward in an ungainly fashion, grabbed the book from her hands, and snapped it shut as he lurched backward, wary. She made sure to use her most unsettling smile. By the time he looked down at the pale pigskin cover of the book, the poison she’d slathered over the leather had seeped into his hands. He cried out, dropping the book and backing into his posse of followers, staring at his hands in horror as they blistered.

Selene rose prettily from her seat, bent down, and picked up the large tome to resume her reading. When she was seated once more, she raised a single brow at them.

“If you have complaints about your affliction, take it up with the emperor, since he was the one so kind as to gift me this book. Now run along, before I decide you deserve more than boils for your disrespect.”

The librarians were quick to flee, stumbling over each other in their haste to get away. One of the men, his dark, messy hair streaked with grey, his robes too big for his lanky frame, seemed paralyzed by the sight of her. She snarled at him. He didn’t need to be threatened again. It calmed her to know she was once again alone.

Iliana had complained about the sheer amount of time in forced company, and Selene tended to agree. She’d taken care to train the servants to leave her well enough alone unless and until she requested assistance, but outside her chambers it was a different story. It was beginning to fray her nerves to have this many people so often buzzing about her when she was swathed in silk skirts and weighed down by jewels.

Though she’d taken to carrying a poisoned dagger beneath her skirts at Iliana’s request, she didn’t feel safe in the palace, not least due to the fact that the weak-willed first son of Magister Amethyst, Theodore, had been trying to speak to her since the hunting competition. She’d been dodging him since he’d shaken her hand, told her she’d grown into a fine woman, introduced himself as her brother and tried to wink conspiratorially at her in front of a crowd. Had he not possessed a remarkable resemblance to their father she would have doubted his parentage, so hapless and inept he’d been. No wonder her father had chosen his second son as his heir. Even at thirteen, little Dimitri was the perfect bloodthirsty soldier. She’d seen her fair share of stray cats unceremoniously dumped in her short time at the magister’s, their charred little bodies visible under the paltry amount of soil thrown atop them. She really hoped she’d get the chance to kill that little shit. Alas, it was the older brother that assailed her now.

Theodore approached her carefully, looking around often to assure himself they were alone. The dominus was doing his best impression of a skittish mouse navigating a pit of vipers. When he finally came near, he stood awkwardly in front of her, rocking on the balls of his feet and swinging his arms. His attempts at nonchalance were failing so miserably it was painful to watch. If she were the sort to feel pity for noble, wealthy, idiots, she supposed his performance might just arouse a flicker. No doubt his peers made sport of eating him alive. His presence was quickly turning tiresome. She glared up at him.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and approached her, doing his best not to make eye contact for too long.

“Can you tell me what has become of my sisters? The last time I lived at home they were…different. Also, what has become ofmyMilena?”

Selene couldn’t help the confused tilt of her head. Had the magister not seen fit to at least tell this bumbling creature to keep his mouth shut? If not, she would have to reconsider her estimation of the magister’s intelligence.

“Don’t you already know?”

“Well, no. Father threatened me with death if I didn’t stay silent. But even Sonya won’t tell me, and she always used to tell me everything…”

“Sonya?”

“My third youngest sister, her hair has the most blonde in it of us all,” Theodore replied, equally confused.

“Oh! You mean Carrot. I doubt you’ll get much out of her. She’s pretty fucked up. As for Milena, you’ll have to ask the magister. Long story short though, if you don’t already know, you don’t need to know. Understand?” Selene did her best to use the smile she’d been taught meantgo away, I’m finished with this discussion. Sadly, she’d either been unable to reproduce it faithfully, or her half-brother was a little thick. Her coin was on the latter.

“How can you say that? They’re my beloved sisters and something is wrong with them! Can’t you understand?” His eyes misted.

Selene growled at the dominus. This twit wanted her to care about some drama she wanted no part of? If he’d been so concerned, why hadn’t he gone to the magister to complain? His timidity rubbed her the wrong way.

“What I can’t understand, Theodore, is why you believe a bastard your father tossed away like trash would give a damn about some pampered breeding sows and his biggest disappointment. If you care so damn much, grow a pair and confront him. But we both know you won’t. It’s why you’re standing there, hoping I’ll coddle you and make it better, all so you can go back to what you’re good at—being a spineless, spoiled child.”

He froze, stunned, before he hunched his shoulders to lick his wounds. She wasn’t particularly proud of herself, but it would be better this way. Maybe he would manage to keep his head when Daddy was executed by the prince for whatever crime he was guilty of. Unless this was an elaborate ruse, Theodore probably hadn’t been invited to take part in the plot.

“You… You’re just likehim.”

Selene smirked. If she were their father, Theodore would be dead, not dealing with hurt feelings.

“If I start caring for the opinions of useless brats, I’ll let you know. Until then, fuck off.”

Chapter 15

Theflickeringcandlelightwasmagnified by magic, bathing the grand, airy ballroom in sunny mid-afternoon brightness despite the late hour. Every column was sculpted and lavishly painted, every arch decorated with a stunning mosaic. The ceiling glittered with embedded crystals and the floors were of polished, veined marble. Servants in drab greys carrying drinks and delicate appetizers wove through the throngs with the equal and confusing abilities of being seen by, and invisible to, the nobles gathered. Silks, jewels and dramatic, colourful fashions were on full display.

Selene’s fingers itched to pocket a bauble or three as she considered her list of reliable fences for high-end goods. Temptation was getting the better of her. As she approached the backs of the wallflowers on the edges of the revelry, she heard a familiar voice.

“Domina Emerald, you look lovely.”

Despite his words, the praetor sounded anything but pleased. Interest piqued, she crept as close as she dared to Nicephorus and Domina Zoe Emerald, the better to eavesdrop.

---