Page 47 of Poisoned Empire

“Domina Amethyst,” The man replied with a stiff nod, his dark hair cropped short and his face clean-shaven.

“Are you a dirty voyeur, or were you ordered to follow me?”

“Which answer is less likely to get me decimated by a flick of your wrist?” He grinned with gallows humour, his grey eyes sparkling.

“Oh! I like that attitude of yours. Given you’re still alive, you must know I suspect you’re a lackey of the prince or that stuffy praetor. So, which is it?” She smiled, poking his cheek.

“Praetor. On order of the prince.”

“I appreciate your dedication to your job, but if you intend to spy on me, I’ll have to put an end to that. It’ll take the fun right out of skulking about the palace causing mischief if I know you’re there.”

“I’ve been prepared to die in service to the throne since I entered the palace. Do what you have to.”

“Silly shadow mage. I’m not going to kill you, just slow you down. Now that I know you’re out there, it would ruin this new game between us if you die.” Selene stared at him with what she hoped was her best deranged leer. The man began sweating profusely. She kissed his cheek before standing, shaking out her skirts and turning to leave.

“Enjoy that one, my shadow, and be sure to tell your replacement I’ll be waiting for them.”

With that she left the room. She knew exactly where she wanted to go to relax, now that she had no one following her.

Prince Belisarius rubbed his aching temples. If the rebel magistri didn’t kill him, then the bloody poison mage surely would.

“What exactly did she say to the other dominae?”

“In essence, that they are candidates for empress because she allows it, and that if she so pleased, she could end their lives. She made sure to impress upon them that they were powerless, and that she would be chosen as empress because of her overwhelming strength, that their family names were less than useless to you.”

“Tactically speaking, she’s not wrong,” Marduk replied.

“The future empress will not be chosen based on her ability to murder countless innocents!” The praetor fumed at the strategos.

“So the dominae chose to pit their wits against Selene’s bloodthirst and found themselves wanting. That is hardly surprising. Were any harmed?” Belisarius asked, exhausted.

“No, but Domina Emerald made her complaint to me personally. Additionally, Selene is now wandering the palace unsupervised. She detected and compromised my spy.”

“The shadow mage?” Marduk raised his brows.

“Don’t sound so impressed! It only confirms what we suspected about her criminal leanings. The imperial poison mages assure me my spy will recover in a few days,” Nicephorus replied, caustic.

“Inform the rest of the espionage unit to locate her but not to approach her. Have each of them carry an antidote for paralytics and purgatives. If that is all, I’m going to take my leave. I’ll think on a suitable punishment for her threats.”

“Your Royal Highness,” Marduk and Nicephorus chimed in unison as Belisarius rose.

In his rooms, attendants stripped him of his ceremonial robes as his headache kept up its relentless pounding. He needed to restore himself before the evening, when he would be forced to play the part of a besotted suitor to that harridan. The need to do so galled him. Days of acting like a fool in public, all to be rewarded with her smug smile. How had Magister Amethyst not killed her himself?

Worse still, she’d been standoffish since their kiss. One which had left him reeling—and thinking about it far too often. He wanted another taste of her tart mouth, wanted to punish her with his tongue for flirting with the griffin, and wanted her begging for mercy in the most sensual of ways.Enough!The buzzing in his head intensified. He hadn’t invited a woman into his scheme—he’d unwittingly recruited a demon.

“Are the amenities at the hot spring prepared?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

“I do not wish to be disturbed. By anyone. Anything short of war can be handled by either the strategos or praetor.”

“Understood.”

The tension slowly drained from Belisarius’ shoulders the closer he got to the sole oasis within the palace—a hot spring, off-limits to any not of royal blood. It was covered by stained glass and home to fragrant, tropical plants curated for both their decorative and restorative properties. The steam was funnelled away to heat the floors of several royal apartments come winter. It had been one of his mother’s private projects, and it never failed to relax him. Stripping off the last of his clothes, the prince entered the grand chamber.

The palace was full of useless simpletons. No self-respecting poison mage collected thousands of poisons and failed to sample the wares. Only self-loathing types were in charge of the imperial vault that hoarded them. Selene incapacitated most of them by combining several poisons they were unlikely to have ingested. Two had managed to fend her off, but they were too old to put up much of a physical fight. In the end, she’d been able to sample a number of new beauties before she’d needed to beat a hasty retreat, stuffing a bottle or three in her skirts for good measure. They should be grateful for her time—education of the ignorant was considered a virtue, after all.

It was that same hasty retreat which put her in a bit of a predicament. She had lost herself in an unfamiliar section of the palace, using a number of servants’ stairwells before thinking better of it. Now enclosed in a hot spring garden, a stained glass roof dimming the interior, finding the exit was taking time and she was getting overheated in her heavy beaded silks. As she wandered through it, stripping as she went, she bundled her clothes under one arm. It was too damned hot to be wearing much of anything in a place like this.

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