Page 72 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“No no, it’s my duty to help you shed your shyness. It will only hold you back once we get to court. Luckily, I have the perfect training in mind.”

She sank her nails into his chest. It was the only thing she could do with so many eyes on her. Smiling through the humiliation of her cheeks heating, she imagined the ways she would punish his temerity.

“What wicked thoughts have you turning pink, wife?” he purred in her ear.

“The kind that would leave you incapable of fathering children,” she hissed.

He chuckled. Taisiya had managed to steel herself against most of what life had to offer. Why was she having such difficulty holding onto her detachment around this man? He would inevitably disappoint her, just like all the rest. The thought helped her regain some semblance of self-control. She would be rid of this obscene fascination with him soon enough.

“If only I were a truth-taster, just for a few hours. I would call you out on your obvious deflections.”

“A truth-taster?” she asked.

“A special fae skill, one you’re born with or not. The lies of others taste bitter on their tongues, while the truth is sweet and pleasing. Few make themselves known, but most that do eventually retire from society, exhausted by the constant bitterness. It’s why, wherever you go, it’s best to be vague or misleading when choosing your words, lest one of their number catch you out in a bald-faced lie.”

Taisiya shivered. Gods, if she couldn’t lie, she would have died by now, executed for treason. Being able to lie with a straight face was a skill all noble mages perfected. It appeared she had yet another skill to learn to make her way in Maat.

An imposing stone door barred their path. Mereruka put her down to open it with a touch of his hand on an outsized jewel.

“They were unable to open this door and the door to your office, so everything is as you left it,” Nofret said, bowing as she ushered them inside.

“Thank the gods for small mercies,” Mereruka sighed. “Come. Have a seat.”

A truly palatial set of rooms greeted her. The ceiling might have resided in the clouds for its height. A raised, enormous bed with a gauzy canopy took up one section, another was a sitting area with some kind of game laid out and a few scrolls lying about, another was filled with strange objects on shelves and large wooden wardrobes inlaid with precious stones. Given what Mereruka had said about wood’s rarity in Maat, they must be costly imports. Decorations and patterns in blue and gold covered every conceivable surface; the floors, the walls, the furniture. The ceiling was the true masterpiece of the room; a subtly swaying painting of the daytime sky, complete with the light of day, softer and kinder than that she’d just experienced outside, emanating from nowhere and everywhere at once. Taisiya kept her bored expression fixed as she let her eyes wander. She took a seat near the strange game and waited for the first scribe to describe what new challenges they faced.

“Is Qar already putting the affairs of Rhacotis in order?” Mereruka asked as he slid into the seat.

“Yes, Your Tranquility. I suspect he’s eager to get trade moving along again. He did his best to delay the implementation of the new orders as long as he could,” Nofret answered.

“Alright, tell me what has happened to my home and Maat since I left.”

Taisiya could see him tense, waiting for the worst, and placed a hand atop his. She knew what it was to lose one’s home, to have it invaded and violated, to feel as if your sense of safety and sanctuary would never return. She might never walk the halls of Dragomire Keep again, but she had discovered that home came with you, so long as your family were there. Maybe one day, she would feel that again here, in Maat.

“Once you left, King Khety suggested at court that you may be away for some time and that your palace and city would be left without proper oversight. At first, no one thought anything of this, but not a day after you had gone, he raised taxes on the hatyas and nomarchs to a punishing degree. Then a few days later, as the taxes began trickling into the palace, he demanded Oblivion’s Tithe be tripled. He made announcements that any hatyas or nomarchs who couldn’t pay their fair share could barter their territory, their daughters, or their years of life in lieu of goods and gold,” Nofret said.

Mereruka cursed, taking his hand from hers to run it through his violet hair.

“What is Oblivion’s Tithe?” Taisiya asked.

“Every year, the king demands a small token from every household in Maat. When the inundation begins, he sails north on the Hapi to the northernmost seasonal palace and dedicates it all to the forgotten gods in his name,” Nofret answered.

“Why increase the tithe? He has already increased the taxes.” Mereruka frowned.

Nofret shook her head.

“I’ve heard rumours that he was cursed for sending you, his own brother, to the Cursed Continent, and is hoping more offerings will sway the forgotten gods to remove it. Begging your pardon, Princess Consort.”

Taisiya raised her brows and smiled slightly. She supposed it could be a fun new game, deciding to punish anyone she disliked whenever they called Lethe cursed. But as Nofret was an ally, there was no call for such treatment.

“No need. I was made aware of how Maat views my homeland. For now, I don’t mind using that misconception to my advantage.”

“As you wish, Your Harmoniousness.” Nofret nodded.

“He’s gone mad!” Mereruka thumped his hand on the armrest of his chair. “Is he trying to destabilize Maat?”

“If he is, he’s doing a good job. I’ve heard, in whispers, that many of the nomarchs are selling the waters of the Hapi in order to pay the king.” Nofret shook her head, grimacing. “The three you disposed of were lesser sons of the nomarch of Shedet. I believe they were encouraged by the favour your brother, Radjedef, shows their father. They drained a tenth of the treasury, half sent to their father, and the other half for their own amusement. They raised taxes on Rhacotis in order to pay their own taxes and tithes, and refused to allow traders to sell their goods unless they paid exorbitant bribes to do business in the port,” Nofret said, her eyes weary.

Taisiya didn’t know this nomarch of Shedet, but she did recognize the name of Mereruka’s brother. Radjedef was the Overseer of the Royal Guard and a generally quarrelsome man.

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