Page 121 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“Radjedef, hold her down.” Khety pointed his talon at Itet.

Radjedef hesitated. Khety snarled at his split-second delay, lashing out with a strand of magic and tying Itet tight.

“Useless!” he screamed at Radjedef.

Radjedef flinched, eyes on the floor as his fists clenched.

“What is your sentence, Your Eternal Serenity?” Serfka asked calmly.

“He shall take the mark of disinheritance,” Khety said smoothly. He jutted his chin out at Radjedef, who took a proffered blade from one of his soldiers.

Inkaef looked mortified but kept his cries of pain to a minimum as Radjedef carved the mark upon his forehead. The rune ensured the skin scarred and that the scar remained impossible to conceal, even with the best of glamours. Itet wept with relief. But this was not the end. Khety was far too calm given his former fury. Perhaps Khety would make Itet take the mark too, out of spite alone. Rage still visibly boiled within the king. He still needed an outlet. Hopefully, Itet’s tears would prevent him from seeking it elsewhere. Taisiya looked to Mereruka, a question in her eyes. He shook his head. Whatever this spectacle was, it wasn’t over and it wasn’t yet time to strike.

“You will be stripped of your title, lands and responsibilities, Inkaef. From this moment, you are no brother of mine, you are a commoner of Maat.”

“Thank you for your mercy, King Khety.” Inkaef spoke the words, his voice hollow as bright red blood ran down his green face and dripped onto his dirtied finery.

It was a harsh punishment, but just shy of what Mereruka had hoped for.

“Vizier!” Khety called.

“Yes, King Khety?” Serfka asked, wary.

“What is the official punishment for a commoner who dares to insult the king of Maat?”

Betrest gasped with shock. Itet stilled in her magical bonds, her hollow, unseeing eyes meeting her twin’s.

“Be ready,” Mereruka whispered to Taisiya in the mage tongue.

She nodded.

“No! No! Please! Please don’t, Khety!” Itet lunged forward, throwing herself in front of Inkaef in spite of her bonds.

“Silence!” Khety shouted, another strand of his magic gagging Itet. Her muffled pleas and sobbing continued. “Vizier?” Khety asked, menace in his tone.

Serfka paled, but cleared his throat in preparation to answer. Servile coward. They really were just going to watch as Khety stained his hands with the blood of another sibling. Only Itet had been moved to beg for clemency.

“The punishment is death.”

The second the words left the Vizier’s lips, Khety unfolded his wings, doubling their length, and struck Inkaef with a spell. Taisiya gripped Mereruka’s arm tight as the spell dissolved Inkaef before their eyes. When the gruesome ordeal was done, Inkaef was a bleating, green-haired goat. Khety grabbed hold of Inkaef in his raptor’s feet, puncturing flesh and raining blood down as he took off into the sky, soaring high with the powerful thrust of his wings and a potent updraft created by his magic. Itet screamed behind her gag, thrashing in her bonds. Khety circled overhead for a moment, Inkaef flailing in his grasp. He tore one limb from Inkaef, then another, each raining blood and gore down from above as they splattered in the courtyard below. Finally, he released the transformed, bleating fae to the pull of gravity. Itet screamed and screamed as Inkaef fell and fell, until at last he struck the ground.

Betrest stumbled away from the sight, her hand at her mouth as she suppressed a gag. Serfka’s shock rooted him to the spot as all four of his hands hung limp at his sides. Itet cried and screamed as she crawled over to Inkaef’s bloody, broken form despite her restraints. Radjedef rubbed a shaking, scaly hand over his face, his eyes riveted to the broken corpse. When Khety landed in the courtyard and folded his great brown wings, he looked pleased at last, as if the dark spell of his anger had finally dissipated.

“Radjedef, have Itet escorted out. She’s ruining the mood.”

Radjedef snapped his fingers and several men dragged Itet away. Servants were already cleaning up what had become of Inkaef. Khety swaggered over to his seat and sat down to his meal. Woodenly, everyone else did the same. Though now it was less a feast than a hostage-taking. Hemetre, the pink petals of her hair quivering, filled Khety’s cup once more with wine and whispered sweetly in his ear. Mereruka was almost impressed by her fortitude.

When he was finishing drinking his cup dry and signalling for another, Khety spoke into the silence in the room.

“I think it goes without saying that this year’s tribute has left me feeling… unimpressed. Princess Consort Taisiya?”

When Khety turned his wily grin on Taisiya, Mereruka stiffened. Would today be the one he finally killed Khety? Most of the guards had left the room, escorting Itet out. The rest of his siblings were in various states of shock. They would be slow to react. They might not even complain overmuch, given Khety’s bloodthirsty display.

“Yes, King Khety?” Taisiya asked. Her voice belied none of her fear or trepidation. Beneath the table, Mereruka could feel her thigh quivering.

“What did you contribute to this year’s tribute?”

Taisiya paused. The wary eyes of the royal family turned entirely to Taisiya, as if wondering what manner of death the king would bestow next.

---