Page 86 of Poisoned Empire

That seemed to catch Grigori’s attention. As quickly as the fear arose, it was erased, replaced by another smug grin. It must run in the family.

“Your desperation is showing.”

“Once you’re executed, I will have your personal lands cleared of innocents and your castle ransacked for its wealth. Then I will allow Selene to turn it into a toxic hell-scape as a warning to future traitors. The Amethyst line will be erased when I order theDamnatio Memoriaeto be performed. Your remaining family will be reduced to nameless vagrants, begging for the tender mercies of the new magister I install in your place.”

The grin was gone. Instead, a deep hatred lit a fire in his purple eyes. For men such as the magistri, who prided themselves on their histories, lineages, self-aggrandizing projects and lavish patronages, having every mention of their name and every image of their likeness purged from existence was a punishment more severe than a simple execution. Nothing of the man or his line would remain in the world, and no children or family would ever be allowed to bear their name. There would never be another Magister Amethyst. There would never be another Amethyst anything.

“You and your heir will be executed at sunset tomorrow. Take the time to reflect on the cost of your treason.”

Belisarius stood, ready to be rid of this man, this room, Marduk close on his heels. Before they were free of the confines of the dark chamber, Grigori leered, a mad gleam in his eye, and called out.

“And yet if you succeed, my blood will be the blood of future emperors! Long live the prince! Long may he reign!” he mocked.

His next laughing fit ended in wracking coughs. Belisarius refused to face him when he left the dungeon. No matter the taunt, Grigori would be dead, and all memory of him erased. There was no last laugh for a man so condemned.

As he began the long ascent, Belisarius reflected on the failures of the evening. Grigori Amethyst hadn’t been their first interrogation, he’d been the last. All the magistri and their heirs had been so compelled. It was a disaster on every front. Not only would he be without confirmation that his uncles and cousins were the masterminds behind the tainted ritual, it also appeared there was a powerful silver-tongue on the loose working for his enemies. He’d been unwise to assume the worst of the dangers had passed now that the traitor magistri were under lock and key. Gods below, what a mess. He’d cut off the head of a snake only to find it had been a hydra all along.

“I’m really not certain how this evening could have gone worse,” Belisarius grumbled to Marduk.

“We could have been without a single silver-tongue mage. We should be grateful she was experienced enough to know when a man has been previously compelled.”

“And yet we leave empty-handed. The rogue silver-tongue bothers me almost as much as the perversion of the ritual. How could we have missed one all these years?”

“I cannot say, Your Royal Highness. But we do have the Unhearing Knights. Since the deaths of our silver-tongues, they’ve mostly been training or idle. They should be sent to search for the rogue.”

“See that it’s done as quickly as possible,” Belisarius agreed.

As they passed the boundary between the frigid dungeon’s atmosphere and the relentless humidity of the palace above, Belisarius found himself coming face to face with his praetor. Nicephorus was as frazzled as he’d ever seen him. Apparently, his day was about to get much worse.

“Your Royal Highness, your uncles and cousins we thought guilty have been found dead! Their corpses were found in a cave not far from their homes. By the amount of decay, they’ve been dead almost as long as we’ve suspected their involvement.”

Chapter 30

Thefeelingtighteningherchest was not one Selene was accustomed to. Doubt. Insecurity. She’d woken that morning to find that the servants viewed her with derision, and everyone else pretended she was invisible. The only woman who had bothered to speak a word to her had done so with cold fury. Domina Opal had passed her in the halls with a killing glare.

“I should have known you were a liar. The only thing razed to the ground is your credibility. A bastard daughter of a traitor, playing at being a noble. It makes me sick. Emerald really will be the next empress now.”

She sought Belisarius, but no one would allow her entry into his rooms, and even the myriad of servants’ corridors had guards patrolling them. Iliana and the strategos were nowhere to be found, and her attempts to get even a morsel of information out of his men proved futile. Doubts swirled about in a toxic soup of dread. Selene felt powerless, discarded. Even the librarian, Azar, had disappeared. The last straw was when a gaggle of nobilissimae whispered none too quietly within earshot.

“Poor creature has been wandering the palace looking for anyone who will give her a moment of their time. It’s such a sad thing when a woman finds her reputation in tatters.”

“She was nothing, then had everything. Now the wheel’s turned, and she’s been ground beneath it.”

Selene turned her gaze on the women. Now that she was no longer a domina or a princess in the eyes of anyone, she didn’t have to play nice. Surely, if she stopped short of killing… Selene approached the women, who shut their mouths and looked about with imploring helplessness. Before she got within spitting distance, a stealthy mage grabbed her shoulder. When she glanced back, it was one of the shadow mage spies. The first she’d incapacitated, in fact. Her smile held pure menace.

“Back for round two, Shadow?”

“No. I’m here to escort you to the dungeon.”

A sick fear slithered down her spine. Had Belisarius betrayed her? Was she to be punished for pretending to be a noble after all? They wouldn’t take her alive! When the shadow mage caught the sight of her bloodlust, he leapt away, his hands up in surrender.

“Amethyst said he won’t speak to anyone except you. You’re the only one who can help identify the last of the traitors. Will you assist in the investigation?”

Investigation? Didn’t the palace keep a whole flock of silver-tongue mages for this very purpose? Suspicious but intrigued, she gave the mage her hand. Though his was gloved, she was in the process of coating her skin in layer upon layer of poison, until it permeated her clothes. Were anyone to lay a hand on her, it’d be the last thing they did. If she were to go to her doom, she planned on taking a great many with her. And if she’d been betrayed, there would be hell to pay.

“It would be my pleasure.”

When he took her hand, his grin was a touch savage.

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