Page 9 of Poisoned Empire

“Your late mother spoke of it to me, and had one of the silver-tongue mages ensure I could speak of it to no one but you, much as you had done to Nicephorus when he was sworn in as your praetor. It was part of my training to become your guard and tutor. I do not know the details of the ritual, but I do understand the effects well enough for me to be able to spot it were it to be used. The only relative of yours I can possibly see using the ritual is your uncle, Phokas, but he sailed away from Lethe when you were still a babe and has never returned.”

“Why do you suspect him?”

All Belisarius knew of Phokas was that, while his mother was alive, she’d shipped goods and money to him across the sea.

“He never liked your father, always thought he wasn’t good enough for your mother. When Mercurius attacked and killed your siblings twenty-eight years ago, Phokas blamed your father for it, said if he’d raised Mercurius right then none of it would have happened. He was your mother’s favourite brother, so most of the time he could criticize the emperor without much in the way of retribution, and he doted on his nieces and nephews, so your father let it go. But when they died and only you survived, his grief was so great he claimed he couldn’t remain. It’s possible Nadia told him more of the ritual, or he uncovered more during the Great War. Both your parent’s families were heavily involved with Darius’ campaigns, after all, and no security is fool-proof. He is the only one among your relatives I can see having enough ill-will to risk the punishment for disclosing the ritual.”

Few mages left Lethe, and those that did were usually either criminals or misfits. Had Phokas truly harboured enough animosity towards the emperor to leave? If so, why return now? Had Mother’s death been the last thing holding him back from rebellion? Phokas could have known about the ritual, but he would not have been aware of the finer details, as only blood relatives of the emperor had been able to take part in it. Then again, the fact that someone of Diamond’s ilk had used it proved his assumptions rested on shaky ground.

“Why did my father not mention this?”

“It was a dark time, Your Royal Highness, the darkest your mother or father ever faced. Perhaps he couldn’t bear to remember it.”

Belisarius pushed aside his anger. He was lucky Marduk had so readily supplied a name.

“Send one of your most trusted men to where my uncle lives across the sea, and bring him back if he is still there. Increase military presence throughout the empire and have them look for him here, if he has indeed returned. Have my mother’s family watched as well. If any should ask about the increase in soldiers along the roads, tell them it is to ensure the safety of the bride candidates.”

“At once, Your Royal Highness. I’ll send Magister Opal’s elder brother. He often delivered cargo to Phokas at the late Empress’ behest. He should know where to find him. Have Nicephorus send along a spy as well. If Opal is in on it, the voyage might help expose him.”

Iliana peered through the crack of the open door as Magister Sapphire’s heir, Leo, confronted her half-sister in the hallway.

“You stupid bitch! Are you trying to embarrass me?” he hissed.

“No, brother,” Diodora replied, toneless.

Though Iliana flinched, hand going to stroke a dagger that was no longer at her hip, Diodora remained as still as a statue. Her half-sister’s unnatural calm only seemed to inflame Leo’s anger. He slapped her—hard. Diodora fell to the floor, a marionette whose strings had been cut.

“Don’t ever interrupt me when I have company over.”

“Yes, brother.”

Leo scowled and stormed off. Diodora picked herself up off the floor and opened the door to Iliana’s room. Iliana stumbled back. Diodora’s lips curled up in a polite smile that never reached her lifeless blue eyes, a palm print reddening her cheek. It was as if she were missing some vital substance.

“Come, it’s time to practice.” Diodora guided Iliana towards the full-length mirror.

It was a luxurious item only a noble house could afford. Seeing her own reflection so clearly had only recently stopped disconcerting Iliana. As far as prisons went, Thalassa Keep was as luxurious as it was horrifying. Silent servants waited on her, silent seamstresses made her dresses and silent soldiers guarded her doors. Inside her cell, she was physically comfortable— she had a feather bed, daily baths and as much food as she desired. But every day she drew closer to the time she dreaded most.

“Your smile should never reveal your teeth. Show me what you’ve practiced.”

Iliana dutifully grinned.

Diodora reported her every action to the magister. Any perceived failure, he’d warned her, and Mira would be strapped back onto that stone and whipped in front of her. As a mage born with a menial gift, the young girl was mockingly called ‘ignoble’ and treated worse than a mangy dog. It was a childhood Iliana had mercifully escaped when she and her mother had been cast out.

Diodora adjusted Iliana’s expression and nodded solemnly.

“Hold that expression. It is the one you will wear at all times. Now, laugh.”

Iliana did her best to imitate the laugh her noble sister had taught her. Diodora shook her head. Iliana’s gut clenched, the sound of Mira’s cries ringing in her ears.

“Like this.” Diodora laughed quietly, the sound hollow.

Iliana suppressed a shiver and tried again. Diodora nodded.

“Smile.”

Iliana obeyed.

“And if a gentleman approaches you, what should you do?” Diodora asked.

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