Page 64 of Poisoned Empire

“If you’ve lied, you’ll die slowly and painfully of a poison no one will ever identify,” she hissed.

Marduk snorted, then groaned in pain as he cradled his stomach. Selene, perhaps uncharitably, hoped his wound had opened and he bled to death.

“If you’re that upset about me ruining your plans to leave Lethe with Iliana in tow, why don’t you just stay? Perhaps you really could be empress. With your reward, you’ll certainly be as rich as one.” He smirked, then muttered, “And you’re bloodthirsty enough to rival Darius himself.”

“Go fuck yourself, Strategos! I hope she says no!”

“We’ll see.” He closed his eyes, a stupid, satisfied smile on his arrogant face.

Unbelievably, the man fell asleep in her presence. So much for his sense of self preservation. It was a nasty parting shot for him to suggest someone like her could be empress in truth. As she gazed at Iliana’s sleeping face, something tight and painful bloomed in her chest. Would Iliana really abandon her to marry the strategos?

Dust motes danced through the beams of sunlight escaping through the thick curtains. Iliana woke to one such beam blinding her into wakefulness, her only rewards a crick in her neck and screeching pain in her lower back. Marduk watched her silently, his expression serious.

“You’re awake! How are you feeling? Do you need me to get the healer?” she asked, flustered. She shot out of her chair, opened the drapes fully and busied herself tidying his bedside.

Marduk held out his hand. When his calloused fingers closed around hers, she was struck again by how large he was.

“There’s no need for the healer. I’m comfortable at present.”

“Ah. I see. That’s good then. Perhaps a cup of wine? I could bring you some food?”

Something about his gaze sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering madly in her stomach, her pulse pounding in her ears. Surely, after he’d watched her maim a man without batting an eye, his view of her had dimmed. Selene could get away with that level of violence and shrug, but Iliana had always been reserved about throwing her weight, or her magic, around.

Then there was the matter of her having defended him. Some men, while grateful to be alive, might be too proud to handle such a thing gracefully. She feared it might be enough to put him off her at last.

At the time she hadn’t even considered such things. Her mind had been too busy shrieking like a vicious harpy that her man was hurt, and that the one who’d done it must be made to scream. She supposed it was too late to put that foolish bit of animalistic instinct back into its cage.

When she looked at the great big man sitting tucked into his oversized bed, her heart felt too big for her chest. He might have professed certain sentiments the day before, but he’d been close to death by blood loss and might not have expected to live. While she wanted to hold those words close to her heart, and the memories they’d made in their secret getaway, she knew it was a foolish thing to do.

His eyes softened the longer she stared at him. Was that pity shading the dark green? She hoped his rejection would be quick so that she could slink away to lick her wounds.

“Iliana, please sit still for a moment. I wish to talk with you.”

“A-alright.”

She tried to harden her heart for what was to come. It stung more than she thought it would. He had seemed so different from the men before.

“Yesterday, you saved my life. I will forever be in your debt. Thank you.”

“You would have done the same for me.” Iliana replied, subdued. He seemed to be working himself up to something. It boded ill, just like her roiling gut. Though she supposed if she threw up on him when he finally broke it off with her, it would be just what he deserved.

“Nearly dying puts a few things in perspective,” he mused, gazing out the window.

“Mmm,” Iliana murmured, not trusting herself to speak. Was he really going to drag out his rejection?

“It strikes me as a coward’s impulse to put off important conversations. Death might have robbed me of the opportunity to have those, and I’ll be damned if I let another moment pass without saying what needs to be said. Lest you think I’m speaking rashly, I want you to know that yesterday’s events have very little bearing on what I have to say.”

Marduk paused to look her sincerely in the eyes, his rough hands swallowing hers. She didn’t even trust herself to make a peep. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, emotion choking her. This was it, the end. Her naïve, girlish fantasies would be exposed to the glaring light of day for what they were. She should have known no one would want her and her baggage. No man would ever really recognise her talents, would respect her for them, would want her to be more than something pretty on his arm, would feel alright with being saved by her. What an easy mark she’d been. She was going to live to regret giving away her heart so easily.

“I love you, Iliana, and I would be honoured if you would consider being my wife in truth.”

No, that wasn’t right, was it? Was she so hurt that she was imagining hearing what she wanted? Stunned, she didn’t realise she’d held herself still and silent for quite so long. Not until she saw the hope bleed from Marduk’s eyes.

“Wait!” she cried, her hand reaching out to touch his chest. “I—yes, I love you, too. I want to marry you, too.”

Warmth flooded her cheeks, her heart hammering. She laughed and launched herself at Marduk. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. His rough stubble abraded her lips but she didn’t care, not once the first, smooth slide of his tongue met hers. She didn’t know where she ended and he began. She’d never felt so light and yet so grounded. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks.

He groaned. She gasped.

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