Page 97 of Poisoned Empire

“I love you, too.” She whispered back, heart bursting with warmth for the first time in far too long.

Belisarius’ princess consort slept safely in his bed a short corridor away. That was what she was; there was no question anymore in his mind. Selene would be his empress in truth. He was going to need her in the chaotic, dangerous days ahead. If the highs and lows of the day didn’t give him premature greys, he’d be shocked. Unfortunately, the day wasn’t over yet.

Belisarius sat in his study with his father, Marduk, Nicephorus, and Iliana, who had hoped to see Selene, but was persuaded to wait until she woke. It was one of the few places within the palace that, despite the mess of papers, remained unchanged by the chaos outside it.

“We were lucky the tally of the dead wasn’t higher. Having the healers on hand minimized what could have been a one-sided slaughter. What I don’t understand is why Grigori didn’t take the chance to escape,” Marduk reported.

“I admit that is the one thing which vexes me as well,” Nicephorus chimed in.

“Selene said he made her swear to prevent ‘the salamander’ from taking the throne,” Belisarius said.

“Is that an alias?” Iliana asked.

“Likely a pejorative. The magistri were very effectively compelled not to reveal anything regarding the puppet master behind this conspiracy. We haven’t been able to locate Miroslav, his son or the two traitor shadow mages yet, which is concerning because the son can teleport,” Darius replied.

“Did you locate any other traitors within the bureaucracy?” Belisarius asked his praetor, almost hesitant to know.

“No, but we haven’t spoken to everyone yet. Though we can rule out the logothetes and some of the asekretis. As for the spies, hidden security forces, and palace guards, we prioritized them and found no more traitors among their ranks.”

“And what of the magistri and their allies in the provinces? Do I need to worry about a second uprising?”

“They’re busy jockeying for the chance to cut up the provinces of the traitors. I’ve managed to hold them off for now, with promises of appointing magistri to the territories in a few days. Until then, I’ve had the praetor place them under imperial control, the same as we might if a magister died without issue.” Darius nodded to Nicephorus.

Belisarius, seeing that those arranged around him were pictures of fatigue, all slumped shoulders, bloodless pallor and listing in their seats, was ready to call an end to the meeting. Any remaining matters could be dealt with in the morning, when they had each had a chance to rest.

“If that is all, I think we should retire for the day.”

“Your Royal Highness, there is one matter I would like to discuss. It’s not urgent, but it is important,” Nicephorus said.

“Please continue.” Belisarius waved him on, praying it would be over quickly. He wanted nothing more than to hold Selene close, if for no other reason than to assure himself she still lived. After today, he feared he might never overcome the compulsion.

“If I understand correctly, you will be making Selene your princess consort in truth?”

“Yes, and she is to be addressed and treated henceforth as Princess Consort of Lethe. I know you have personal reservations, but it is time for you to set those aside. She will be your empress in the future, and I expect you to aid her as faithfully as you have me.”

To his credit, Nicephorus simply nodded. Whatever personal dislike he might have for Selene, he’d seen fit to put it to bed. The tension in Belisarius’ shoulders eased.

“That won’t be an issue, Your Royal Highness. I ask because we may need to consider bringing in at least one concubine. From my research into the subject of poison mage fertility, it is nearly impossible for her to give you heirs. Even among poison mage couples, conception is rare, as a poison mage woman can only give birth to poison mage children. I trust you will have discussions with her regarding her duties as empress, and that one of the most vital is to ensure a stable succession, regardless of her personal feelings.”

Belisarius had never wanted to punch his praetor before now, and he was struggling to keep a leash on his darker impulses. Already, bile rose in the back of his throat at the thought. Neither his father nor Iliana were quite so circumspect.

“Selene isn’t some defective brood mare! How dare you say such vile things!” Iliana looked ready to gut Nicephorus on the spot.

“You overstep, praetor,” Darius growled ominously, gripping the arms of his chair as the room heated noticeably.

Unruffled by the animosity directed his way, Nicephorus continued.

“And what happens to whatever hard-won stability we achieve today, and in the days to come, when the empress fails to conceive? Maybe it won’t matter for a few years, but what about in the next five, the next fifteen? How long until another member of your extended family, with children of his own, decides he should be adopted to fill the role of heir? Would such an individual contentedly wait to be made emperor? The mastermind has yet to be caught, and could use this to weaken you if they are content to play a less aggressive game. How long until the magistri decide to question your fitness to rule, if you cannot produce an heir to ensure the continuation of peace in Lethe? Exactly how long do you intend to try for children before you are forced to consider adoption? And which family would you adopt from, knowing it would change imperial dynamics and potentially foment unrest amongst rival factions? At the very least, having children with a concubine would help cement your place on the throne, and give the people peace of mind. These are things you must consider.”

Belisarius hung his head in his hands. He was torn between wanting to rage at the praetor for this twisted future he envisioned, and asking for a moment to be sick at the thought that Nicephorus might have the right of it. When he queried his praetor, an angry fire in his gut, it was with a restraint he didn’t know he possessed.

“And who might you elect to the unenviable position of concubine?”

“How could you even consider this?!” Iliana cried.

Of course, his praetor had a ready reply to a furious rhetorical question. Nicephorus ignored the hateful tone so that he could deliver his answer.

“A noble widow with the rank of illustra who has already proven her ability to bear children. I have one of the asekretis working on a list of names.”

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