Page 2 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“You want us to be one big, cosy, intermarried family? Angling to put your spawn on my throne, dearest sister?”

Taisiya raised a brow. It made good sense for the adopted heir to be a niece or nephew, and there was nothing outwardly sinister about wanting to give the empress a few to choose from. If Taisiya had the ear of the heir in question, that was all for the better.

“Anything less implies you wish to punish us, or that you’ve deemed us unworthy.”

The empress tapped her bejewelled finger against the gleaming wooden arm of her chair as she frowned.

“The lot of you are more trouble than you’re worth.”

“Be that as it may, we are kin. Our futures will be determined by your favour.”

The empress sighed dramatically.

“Gods below, fine.” Then she smirked. “But have the praetor make a list these of worthy male creatures for you. I hear it’s a hobby of his.”

“Then I won’t take up any more of your time, Your Majesty.” Taisiya stood.

To have the ear of Praetor Nicephorus, Lethe’s loftiest bureaucrat, was an unexpected boon she would not allow to go to waste. Though the task of matchmaker was beneath him, Taisiya would not question her good fortune this day. The empress waved her out, forgotten already. Taisiya didn’t bother curtsying and left the way she came in. Once in the hall, Vasilisa chuckled softly.

“Your father would be proud.”

“Thank you.” Taisiya gave her a wicked grin in return.

What the neophyte empress didn’t know, what no one outside the surviving women of her family understood, was that Taisiya and her sisters were as much traitors as their late father. Though she was related by blood, Empress Selene hadn’t been raised by Grigori Amethyst. She and everyone else had failed to fully appreciate his cunning and vision. With careful scheming, they would take back their ancestral lands from the grasping talons of the empire.

“You need only one plan for success—” Vasilisa began.

“You need a multitude for failure,” Taisiya finished.

Dead or not, Grigori Amethyst lived on.

Chapter 2

Theprovocationshadbegunpiling up as of late. Mereruka reflected on this as yet another avenue supposedly closed to him. He took the rough papyrus note between his deep teal fingers and tore it, slowly, so that the messenger could understand his displeasure. His narrowed, pale yellow eyes met the widening dark brown of the bearer of the bad news. When the rending of the very last fibre ceased ringing in the silent room, the messenger cringed.

“Inform our Eternal Serenity the king that his message has been received and that I will cede my consort to him. Be sure to wish my brother the appropriate congratulations for acquiring yet another concubine.”

The royal messenger swallowed and bowed.

“W-would the prince like to write these words himself, or-”

Mereruka snarled, knocking over his chair as he stood, the beaded braids in his long violet hair snapping to and fro with the violent movement.

“I’ll excuse myself,” the messenger squeaked before he turned tail and ran.

“Tsk. Tsk. Such a temper.”

Mereruka raised a brow at the grey tabby cat that slunk around the corner to enter the room.

“Are we alone, Bas?”

The cat turned to smoke before his eyes, shooting up and reforming as a young, dark-haired man with triangular ears, a long tail and a perpetual smirk.

“As alone as any two people can be,” Bas replied.

Mereruka nodded towards the open door. Bas reached out a russet-brown hand and pressed the jewel by the doorway. A current of magic slid the heavy stone entrance shut. With only a small window, the room should have been dark, but the lofty ceiling was spelled to replicate the daytime sky. The light above radiated down on the decorative walls, glinting off the jewels embedded in scenes of waterfowl hiding amidst lush greenery and fish swimming through sparkling waters. A neat stack of papyrus scrolls sat by his desk in a rack, waiting for his attention, while many more were perched on racks against the far wall. Mereruka righted his chair, one inlaid with gems and made of precious wood—a rare commodity in arid Maat.

Bas grabbed the nearest chair and sat down with the indolent grace of youth. He trained his bright hazel green eyes on Mereruka, his ears twitching atop his head in anticipation as his sleek tail waved back and forth. Mereruka couldn’t resist the temptation to tease him. He sighed.

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