Page 1 of Conspirators' Kingdom

Chapter 1

Taisiyawouldhavepreferredto chew a mouthful of glass shards than to grovel on her knees. After all, grovelling was the purview of wretched supplicants and the powerless. Unfortunately, she found herself among their number through no fault of her own. The actions of her traitor father had landed her family in this unenviable position.

“My offer stands,” Vasilisa, her attendant and confidant whispered with a grin, her grey eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Unfortunately, Empress Selene is more useful alive,” Taisiya replied, her voice hushed.

In the halls of this palace, nestled deep in the heart of Lethe, the Empire of Mages, even the shadows had ears. Thankfully, the mage at Taisiya’s side was adept at both detecting and disposing of spies.

“If you say so.” Vasilisa tucked a curl of her pale blonde hair back into its proper place.

A grey-robed servant led the way to the empress’ receiving chamber, their steps whisper-soft on the polished marble. The floor mosaics depicted serene flora and fauna, while the tapestries hanging on the walls were equally insipid. When she was at last presented to Empress Selene, Taisiya fixed a pleasant, practised smile on her face. Although they shared the same short stature and amethyst eyes, the empress’ dark hair was swept off her face in elaborate braids, her flowing red gown heavily embroidered with gold thread, as jewels the size of her fist dangled from her neck. Next to her, Taisiya, in her modest lavender gown and simple jewellery, looked the pauper. That the empress was her half-sister, and the one who had slain their father, only added to the bitter hatred roiling Taisiya’s gut.

“Illustra Taisiya Spark, Your Majesty,” the servant announced, bowing deeply.

The new family name grated like sharp nails across an open wound. It was as much an insult as the demotion in title had been. Once, she’d been Domina Taisiya Amethyst, daughter of Magister Grigori Amethyst, the man who had governed the wealthy Amethyst Province. She had been one of the highest-ranking noblewomen in Lethe, descended from kings. Now, she was no one, above only a lowly nobilissima in rank.

Vasilisa and Taisiya curtsied low, hiding blackened hearts behind excellent manners.

“Copper, is it? Have a seat and get on with it.” The empress gestured to the cushioned, opulently carved chair opposite her with a careless wave.

‘Copper’ was the demeaning nickname the empress had used for her while Taisiya had been under the influence of a foul ritual. One her father had used in a treasonous bid to rule free from imperial control. Taisiya prayed for the calmness and self-control not to murder her half-sister. Even after a year, the empress had not bothered to remember her name, preferring instead to refer to her by the colour of her hair.

Taisiya’s eyes swept the room, taking in the cacophony of busy, intricate designs slathered over every surface, all in imperial red. Only accents of gold, silver and dark wood broke up the overwhelming hue. She sat opposite the patricidal bitch, Vasilisa standing behind her. Vasilisa tapped her shoulder ever so slightly, but only once. There was someone hidden in the room.

“I’m here to petition on behalf of our family,” Taisiya began.

The empress snorted with derision, tossing her book on the ornate table between them.

“Our family? The only good thing our mutual relative ever did for me was die. Try again.”

Taisiya tensed. If anyone was so foolish as to touch her in this instant, they would regret it. Unseen, electricity danced across her skin—her mage gift of lightning.

How could she forget that this woman was no ordinary noble? With her mage gift, Selene could create poisons at will, and kill with a touch or breath. She was only a year removed from the unwashed poisons merchant she’d been before marrying the emperor. Many a gossip told tales that the empress despised anyone who pleaded and begged, respecting only those who showed no fear at the prospect of sampling her favourite toxins.

A gamble, then.

“Shall I be frank, Your Majesty?”

“Please. I have better things to do today.”

Yes, Taisiya supposed she did. The empress’ elaborate coiffure was askew, her lip paint slightly smudged and the book she’d been pretending to read had been upside-down. The emperor, infamously infatuated with his commoner wife, must be hiding somewhere nearby, no doubt in a state of undress. It would explain the indecorous lack of guards or servants in the room. If rumours were to be believed, the royal couple were trying—unsuccessfully—for an heir, an almost impossible feat given that only a poison mage child could survive to term due to the empress’ poison magic. Given the rarity of such a conception, it was a near certainty they would be adopting the heir to the throne, a situation Taisiya was depending upon. She would need to consider her words carefully. Unlike his wife, the emperor was no fool and had played the game of politics since he’d been old enough to speak.

“In case you’ve forgotten, my siblings and I were Father’s victims, stripped of our magic and no more than living dolls while under the influence of that foul ritual. As I see it, the only mercy you’ve extended to us was sparing our now miserable lives. You took everything from us, including our reputations. All of my sisters’ suitors have fled, and we are treated as pariahs. I’ve come because I expect you to take responsibility for the situation you’ve left us in.”

They’d been evicted from their ancestral home, their father’s name and image erased from every monument and text, their former titles stripped from them and given to another. Still the taint of treachery clung to them, leaving them part of the nobility, but welcome nowhere. As long as anyone thought the new, volatile empress disfavoured them, they would be treated like a disease, and her family’s ambitions would remain fanciful dreams.

“I gave you new noble titles, a modest property, and plenty of coin to last you. Everything else is for you to figure out.” The empress shrugged.

Taisiya narrowed her eyes.

“Do not think that the fate of my sisters and I has gone unnoticed by the nobility. That the crown treats innocent victims of traitors as collateral is a dangerous precedent to set. Knowledge of that dark ritual is now trickling through society. Who would dare come forward, were it to be used again, if they know that the fate of a pariah awaits them? If even the empress’ kin are but an afterthought, what of those with less lofty relations? If you cannot be persuaded to act with decency, then at least have the foresight to act in self-interest.”

The empress scowled but seemed to consider her words. Taisiya’s gambit had succeeded. It appeared the rumours about Selene’s temperament were true—she preferred hostile, simple truth to fawning flattery.

“What do you want?”

“For my sisters to find matches worthy of their former statuses, specifically among His Majesty’s cousins.”

---