Page 16 of Conspirators' Kingdom

Mereruka bit back a curse. He couldn’t bait her into a hasty decision, at least for now. It made him want to ensnare her all the more. When he next met with Bas, he would have the shifter learn all he could about Ambassador Taisiya.

It didn’t escape Taisiya’s notice that Mereruka used his entrance into the palace to dazzle every possible spectator. There was nothing the least bit humble or sedate in his performance. He leapt from the barge and offered her his hand with a gallant grin, creating a staircase out of magic, making it appear as if she were walking on oversized petals. The rest of the fae landed on their fantastical beasts and dismounted with equal flare before the creatures vanished into smoke and lights.

The people of the palace had obviously been warned. Few dared get too close to the fae. She and the delegation approached the throne room, unmolested save by the eyes of curious onlookers. Mereruka kept Taisiya’s hand tucked on his arm as they led the procession, a liberty she allowed. If she indeed agreed to find the prince a wife, it would be best that every mage in Lethe associated her with their strange and intriguing guests. The doors to the throne room were opened well in advance of their arrival. The iron fittings had been replaced with brass. At least the illustra wasn’t entirely useless, then.

“Emperor Belisarius, Empress Selene, I present Prince Mereruka of the Land of Maat.” Taisiya curtsied low as the prince bowed. She tried to pull away from him only to find he’d recaptured her hand and placed it back on his arm. Though not one to cause a scene, she let an unpleasant trickle of electricity singe his arm in warning. She was not his prop—he was hers. He flicked a curious glance her way and winked.

Taisiya noticed to her relief that neither the emperor nor the empress seemed to sicken in the presence of the fae. Marduk was present, but Iliana was not. The praetor and a number of the logothetes, his highest-ranked ministers, stood to the side. A few, the praetor included, appeared to be struggling. Most of the magistri and magistrae were present, along with a smattering of important or wealthy lower nobles. Not all appeared in good health, but a fair number did. It boded well for her plans. She had time to discuss his deal with her family.

“We welcome you to Lethe, the Empire of Mages, Prince Mereruka.” Emperor Belisarius nodded.

“May this meeting be the beginning of many years of friendship between our lands. His Eternal Serenity, King Khety, hopes that we will forge ties between our peoples and has bestowed upon me the position of lead ambassador to see that it is done. To show our sincerity, we have come bearing gifts.”

Taisiya did her best not to gawk at him. In truth, the whole delegation had come with nothing more than the clothes on their backs and the jewels on their persons, beautiful though they were. The emperor and empress seemed about to reply when a thick, heavy force pressed on her from all sides. A number of mages paled, holding back sudden nausea while others fled the chamber entirely.

The pressure disappeared, and in its place, innumerable chests and gifts appeared. Between where the prince stood and where the feet of the imperial couple touched the floor of their dais, all manner of treasure glittered. The remaining nobles gasped in shock.

Statues of golden, jewelled beasts posed between chests full to bursting with more precious stones than Taisiya had ever seen in her life. Fans made of impossibly beautiful feathers stood tall next to a number of life-sized marionettes clothed in sumptuous, foreign fashions fit for royalty. Racks made of glittering silver and decorated with the heads of animals showcased more jewelled slippers and sandals than Taisiya could count. Clay amphorae as tall as herself were decorated with figures enjoying what could only be the advertised contents—alcohol, spices, perfume.

Instead of focusing on the extravagant display, Taisiya scanned the room. Two-thirds of the mages had fled from the fae magic. The remaining third were busy eyeing up the prince like he was the last drop of water in a decade-long drought. Her throat tightened in dread.

The hungriest eyes belonged to the shadow mage logothete in charge of intelligence and internal diplomacy, Nobilissimus Procopius. It had been that hateful vermin who had spied on her family for months after her father’s death, sniffing at her skirts for any whiff of conspiracy. It had been that spindly bastard who had prevented her family from properly grieving her father and brother’s deaths. The Damnatio Memoriae meant there had been no official mourning period, no procession, no eulogy, no feast, and no gladiatorial combat to mark the occasion and proclaim her family’s wealth. They couldn’t even have the cold comfort of having portraits made or small shrines erected in their honour or wear the appropriate colours. Not for a man and a boy who no longer had names, who were traitors to the crown. They’d been treated like pariahs, unable to mourn or move on under the ever-watchful eye of that loathsome man. Only through subterfuge had they been able to locate her father and brother’s unmarked graves in the dead of night and rebury them in secret in their ancestral plot. And if she recalled correctly, that rat of a man had a daughter just old enough to be wed.

She knew very well the greed she saw in his green eyes, had seen it many a time in the eyes of covetous noblemen who had hoped to wed her and her sisters while their family stood tall. She’d seen it again in the sharp-toothed smiles of wealthy, untitled merchants who had eyed her and her sisters in the wake of their family’s fall from grace. Procopius and his spies had taken enough from her and her family. Taisiya wouldn’t—couldn’t—give him the opportunity Prince Mereruka had to offer, damn the consequences.

“Prince Mereruka?” she whispered.

“Yes, Ambassador?”

“Let’s make that deal.”

Chapter 10

Whetherithadbeenthe obscene display of wealth or the openly covetous looks of the mages that had sealed the deal, Mereruka wasn’t certain. He suspected it was the latter. Either way, he’d secured himself a suitable wife. If Taisiya failed to find another one to his liking, he would demand her hand in marriage as his boon.

As he sat in a place of honour at the emperor’s table, he watched her speaking to her sisters nearby, intrigued. Even among family, she didn’t let her polite façade slip. And all that without the aid of glamour. His compatriots kept mostly to themselves at their own table, save for a few brave mages willing to test their aversion to fae magic in public. Observing the mages’ dining customs as best he could, he was still at a bit of a loss. Arrayed before him was a small armoury’s worth of utensils. Perhaps the chefs held a grudge against their employers, for everyone was expected to saw away at the too-large pieces of food.

“Prince Mereruka, please tell us of Maat.” The empress interrupted his perusal.

“Well, it is a great deal hotter than Lethe. We live mostly along the great river, the Hapi, that runs the length of our land. My palace lies at the delta where the river meets the sea. King Khety spends his time between his three palace complexes. The first in the north during the Season of Inundation, the second in the central region during the Season of Emergence, and the third in the south during the Season of the Harvest. The people are mostly fae and shapeshifters.”

Mereruka stopped when he spotted Raemka, the head scribe of the mission, approach the dais with a scroll in hand. Raemka, a fae with skin of mottled, pale blue and hair of bright green, was an ambitious man who’d likely volunteered to go on this mission with the aim of seeing Mereruka disgraced. Given Raemka’s lack of connections in Maat’s court and his slavish devotion to Khety, he would have to ensure Mereruka’s political demise if he wanted to gain Khety’s favour at long last. Mereruka shot him a warning glare that was pointedly ignored.

“Emperor, Empress, I hope you will not look too badly upon this lowly scribe Raemka for interrupting your banquet with talk of business.”

“Please speak, Raemka,” the emperor said, waving him on.

“His Eternal Serenity, King Khety, in his infinite wisdom, tasked me to aid Prince Mereruka in securing meaningful ties with your land. As such, he asked for this to be read while in your presence.” Raemka untied and opened his papyrus scroll, clearing his throat, “Greetings from King Khety of the Land of Maat. I send to you my youngest brother, Prince Mereruka, to make ties with your people. It is my fondest wish that he take a wife, a princess, from amongst your people, so that our lands may be bound together. If this pleases you, we will greet a new Princess Consort of Maat upon his return. So speaks King Khety.” Raemka bowed.

The empress’ smile turned acidic.

“There are, as of yet, no princesses in Lethe. And I will not be promising my firstborn to any, well wishes or no.”

“Raemka, you were made aware of this before we arrived. Do not trouble our hosts again,” Mereruka commanded, his hands fisted on his thighs.

He couldn’t kill the scribe just yet, but Raemka had made it to the top of Mereruka’s short list. That they would attempt to cause trouble so soon after he’d dealt with the late trade minister made him deeply uneasy.

“Please accept my deepest apologies.” Raemka bowed deeper and backed away to his seat, his scroll sealed and tucked under his arm once more.

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