Page 4 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“Was there something else?” Mereruka raised a violet brow.

“You’ll know when you read the letter.”

Bas hissed at the soldier, whose eyes flicked over the cat before dismissing him. So few fae expected shifters in their animal forms to be part of a noble household. Foolish, but useful. But for a mere soldier to order a prince about… it made his skin crawl. Mereruka kept a bored look on his face as he unfurled the scroll. As he read it, he was glad that his teal colouring, unlike the many shades of clay that shapeshifters and witches were born with, allowed him to disguise the fact that all the blood had just drained from his face. In his hands were orders to make permanent ties with a land everyone—in the whole of Oblivion—had avoided for thousands of years. Apparently, the king had decided to rectify the slights of stealing his previous fiancées by ordering him to find a new one… among the inhabitants of the Cursed Continent.

“This is a joke in very poor taste, even for His Eternal Serenity,” Mereruka said as he placed the scroll on his desk.

Bas leapt up onto the desk and perused the letter as he pretended to clean his paw.

“I assure you, the king is quite serious. An envoy arrived a few days ago, requesting diplomatic and trade relations. A ship is already provisioned. You’re to act in the king’s stead.”

In that moment, everything Mereruka had ever built, schemed and secretly shed blood over crumbled around him. What did it matter that he’d accrued hundreds of extra years of life through meticulous bargaining if he was doomed to spend what remained of it far from Maat? What use were his connections, his carefully curated allies, his army of spies and soldiers, if none of them had warned him of, or were capable of saving him from, this fate? Mereruka eyed the soldier and considered his limited options. Killing the messenger was the obvious ploy, but if he’d barged his way into Mereruka’s palace, there was no doubt a small army awaiting such a response. Open conflict with the royal guard, while unprepared? Suicide. Mereruka had been outplayed. He could only hope he would have the chance to repay the favour.

“Is this one of those chances? Because it looks a lot like a death sentence,” Bas drawled, using mind-speak to question Mereruka without the soldier knowing.

Bas was not wrong. It seemed the inhabitants of the Cursed Continent were not content to keep their curses and doom to themselves. Their arrival in Maat had gone unnoticed by Mereruka’s spies, and Khety had seized the opportunity they represented too swiftly for the prince to counter. His hands curled into fists as he stood. For now, he had no choice but to submit.

“Lead the way, then.”

As he followed the soldier through the open, columned halls of his palace, Mereruka swore that if he returned from this voyage alive, he would no longer be content with waiting another century to take the throne for himself. May the forgotten gods have mercy on the king of Maat, for Mereruka would have none.

Chapter 3

“Aretherevermininthe house?”

“No, Domina.” Vasilisa only used Taisiya’s former title when she was certain no one would overhear it.

Taisiya rolled her shoulders, tension dissipating. If Vasilisa’s recognisance were to be trusted, a shadow mage spy answering to the Praetor Nicephorus had been watching them from the shadows. One day, Taisiya would allow Vasilisa to track down the spy and dispose of him, but not until it was safe to do so.

It was a pity there were so many things she needed to be patient for. And grateful for.

It was a small mercy that Taisiya hadn’t yet been reduced to enduring the month-long carriage ride back to the estate of the newly appointed Magistra Zoe Jade, their sponsor and the empress’ bosom ally. A teleportation mage had seen them to the entrance of the compound, once the seat of another traitorous magister before he too had been slaughtered by the crown. Taisiya’s father hadn’t been alone in his ambitions. Two other magistri, Sapphire and Diamond, had joined the conspiracy, their daughters used as fodder for the ritual. Those daughters had been similarly discarded by the crown once their traitor fathers and brothers had been killed. The former Sapphire and Diamond women lived in equally reduced circumstances on the grounds, while Magistra Zoe Jade had been gifted control of the former Sapphire Province and the responsibility for seeing to the welfare of the traitors’ families.

Not that she’d done much.

Taisiya hated this place, a constant reminder of failure and death. Thalassa Keep was a hideous fortress of imposing grey stone, ringed with a murky moat of dubious liquid, made malodorous in the summer heat. Taisiya and her family lived in one of the cottages to the East. She and Vasilisa approached it, their leather shoes crunching the gravely, tree-lined, path.

“The spies haven’t been by for months. The praetor was quick to give up his suspicions.”

“We’re all the better for it. Imagine if he knew…” Taisiya replied.

“Tizzy-tiger? Is that you?”

Milena, her youngest sister, opened the window of the cottage and leapt from the sill. Her unbound, auburn hair framed her pale, freckled face and a cheerful smile. Lavender eyes sparkled with mischief as she raced, completely unladylike, and jumped on top of Taisiya for a hug. Taisiya caught her and crushed her in a tight embrace. Milena had volunteered to be the first to lend her power to their father for the ritual but had paid for it dearly, left in a comatose state until he’d died and her magic and soul had been returned to her. She’d recovered with remarkable speed. Father had ensured she was cared for both day and night so that her body wouldn’t suffer unduly. If only he’d been as thorough in all his plans.

“So? Has the first plan gone well?” Milena asked.

“Very. Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it,” Taisiya replied.

“Domina, if you’ll excuse me.” Vasilisa curtsied.

Taisiya nodded. Her closest friend preferred to wander the void when she could. Vasilisa smiled and slipped into a shadow in the blink of an eye, gone from this world into another.

Taisiya pushed open the door, as servants only came in the mornings to clean and drop off food. Walking into the atrium, she sat down at the thick, scarred, wooden table as Milena gathered their other sisters. A kettle hissed one room over. She ran a finger along the largest trough in the table’s surface, holding back a grimace as she surveyed the surroundings. Every item was more than two decades out of fashion, and every piece of furniture showed signs of mending or wear—castoffs from Magistra Jade’s servants, no doubt. While the magistra’s keep was ugly outside, Taisiya had walked its halls. Only the finest of decorations, fresh flowers on every spare surface, and toadying servants in every hallway, all due to the immense natural wealth and overflowing coffers of the newly-minted Jade Province. But in Taisiya’s humble cottage, there were no mosaics here, no rich tapestries, only simplistic, painted scenes on a few key walls, and all faded and chipping at the edges.

Yet the real treasures of the Jade Province sat before her. Milena hopped into her seat, agile as a cat, Daria poured the tea and settled into her seat without a sound and Sonya tossed back a strand of her hair. All fair-skinned redheads with purple-hued eyes, just like Father. And just like Father, they were natural-born schemers.

Daria posed in her seat so stiffly that the family swore they could use her posture to judge the straightness of a line. It lent her an air of imposing formality. No matter their reduced circumstances, not a single burgundy strand on her head was ever out of place, and her faded purple gown had nary a crinkle.

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