Page 55 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“Nefertnesu, older sister, married to a neighbouring fae court at a young age. Heart has been removed, transforming her into a beautiful, powerful fae with mage-like features but no mercy or kindness. She can be convinced to renounce her claim to Maat’s throne with a suitable bargain. Tall, light brown skin, turquoise eyes, black hair. Trust only that she will act in her own best interests.”

“Good.”

“But what do you really mean that her heart was removed?” Taisiya asked.

For him, her transformation had been the darkest point in his life. It was the day the only blood family he’d ever loved died. His rage and bitterness at the loss of her changed the trajectory of his life as he set his sights on Khety’s head. Mereruka had tried to explain it as best he could, but without knowing a person both before and after that horrible transition, the true cost of it was hard to convey. Nefertnesu had been like a mother to him, even though she was only several decades older, her warmth and cheery smiles brightening his childhood. She had raised him, protected him, loved him, spoiled him. Now, a stranger inhabited her skin, a self-absorbed creature of careless, unfeeling cruelty. Nothing of the Nefertnesu he’d loved remained. In every way that mattered, she was dead, and Khety had killed her.

“Most fae look like me, or those on this mission. Colourful, strange to your eyes, sometimes more or less monstrous depending on their heritage or chance, but those are just appearances. You already know that our hearts are very much like your own. In order to attain ethereal beauty and tremendous magic, the cost is one’s feeling heart, a part of your soul. Except that piece is everything that made you good or kind. They feel no real love, no guilt, just an indescribable need for more, more of something they can never attain and they can no longer understand, and they never want to go back to who they were. If you ever meet a fae who looks like a mage with pointed ears, it would be best to run. Those are the ones who have bled out their feeling hearts.”

They were lost souls, dangerous, vicious, cruel and grasping. Woe to any who knew them.

Her brows pinched in confusion. It was a subject he didn’t wish to dwell on. Insatiable anger simmered in his heart, a wound that would never properly heal.

“If she visits, you’ll see what I mean,” Mereruka added. “Next.”

“Itet and Inkaef. Twins. The only two siblings who share a father. Itet is an older sister, eccentric, violent, overseer of the eastern border. Short, muscular, bright green skin, black hair, blue eyes, horns and hooves.”

And an absolute pain in his ass, but rarely in a threatening way, unless she roped you into a drinking contest.

“And Inkaef?” Mereruka asked.

“Inkaef, an older brother, quiet, browbeaten, Overseer of the King’s Tribute, beloved by his sister but few besides. Short, green skin, black hair, orange eyes, horns and hooves,” Taisiya answered.

His least objectionable, least dangerous, brother. Truly, he was the best of the bunch.

“Correct. Then?”

“Serfka, older brother, vizier, similar role to the praetor, but has more power. He’s on good terms with Khety and is well-respected. Average height, blue skin, silver eyes, grey hair, has four arms. He has taken the mark of disinheritance, and so is ineligible to become king.”

And it was fortunate he’d never coveted the throne for himself. He’d had centuries longer to make connections and become beloved by the people of Maat for his even-handedness. If Serfka had decided to be ambitious, he would’ve been truly difficult to unseat.

“Next.”

“Radjedef, second-eldest brother, Overseer of the Royal Guard, also on good terms with Khety. Conservative, traditional, will dislike me on sight, quarrelsome. Scaled red skin, bald, yellow eyes, tall, two sets of horns.”

Gods, he hoped to kill that meddling bastard one day. Radjedef was a constant thorn in his side, happy to overtly quarrel with him on Khety’s say-so. Getting rid of Radjedef would be a long-overdue delight.

“And the king?”

“Khety, His Eternal Serenity, the eldest brother. Overthrew the previous queen, his and everyone else’s mother, in order to become king. Has been demanding years of life from your bargains as his due in order to increase his lifespan. Refuses to have children lest they overthrow him in turn. Subsequently, his siblings are childless, so that they don’t risk appearing ambitious. Tall, wiry, bright orange skin, white hair, blue eyes, winged arms, clawed hands, legs resembling those of a bird.”

And the day Mereruka killed him would be the best of his life, no doubt. He had much to answer for.

“I’m impressed by your good memory.”

Taisiya grinned.

“Six people is nothing. I was forced to memorize the names of every noble in Lethe,” she remarked, then narrowed her eyes in concentration, “So the previous queen had a harem of men?”

“Yes, Mother was only a traditionalist when it suited her. She kept a harem, but refused to marry and share her power with a king.” Mereruka smiled.

His mother had never been the warmest sort, but she’d been fair and wily and he’d always admired that about her. His mother had been an old woman of nine hundred when Khety killed her. Mereruka had his suspicions that she was about to throw tradition to the wind once more and choose Serfka as her heir, rather than the eldest. Sadly, any proof of such a thing had been destroyed along with her. That no one had batted an eye at a son murdering his own mother was a testament to the awesome power royalty held over Maat, as well as the colourful, bloody history that had always stained its throne. After all, his mother’s hands were stained with the blood of aunts and uncles Mereruka had never met, and cousins that would never be.

“I suppose I should ask, given the descriptions of your siblings. Are your extra appendages hidden behind your glamour, as your tattoos are?” Taisiya asked.

Her question brought him back to the present.

“Would it bother you either way?”

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