Page 79 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“It will be my pleasure to find out,” he purred. “I’ve invited Maat’s best artisans to our home. Would you like to see what they can do?”

Taisiya nodded. He led her from the courtyard to a grand receiving chamber where the artisans waited. The ceiling shone with the pleasingly realistic depiction of the current skies, brightening the room. The first to approach laid out a crude stool for her to sit upon. She looked to Mereruka, wondering if it was some sort of insult. What kind of royalty sat on a rude stool in front of guests? When he smiled encouragingly, she relented, seating herself. The artisan began weaving a glowing aurora between his fingers. The stool was transformed into a plush seat decorated with gold, gleaming wood and precious stones. Palace servants brought a tall mirror before her. What she saw was nothing less than a throne, one that made the empress’ look like much abused, second-hand furniture. She couldn’t help her grin.

“This pleases me,” she said imperiously.

Mereruka nodded.

“A few more, if you will. One for every kind of occasion,” he said.

The artisan bowed deeply. With a flick of his wrist, the throne disappeared, its likeness appearing on a curious scroll held by the artisan’s helper. He would repeat this process after every nod of her head or Mereruka’s. And so it continued, each seat as comfortable and beautifully crafted as the first.

The cobbler was next, slipping on an unassuming, plain pair of sandals that he quickly transformed into shapes, forms and designs that couldn’t possibly exist without magic holding them together. Their likenesses were also transferred to a helper’s scroll.

“I want them all. In every colour,” Taisiya said.

“Then you’ll have them,” Mereruka replied.

Vintners, brewers, bakers and chefs tempted her with their wares between the parade of cabinetmakers, glassblowers, potters, painters, sculptors, cosmeticians and perfumers. Long past the time when she was growing ill at the sheer amount of gold Mereruka must have spent on her, the jeweller, a shapeshifter woman who appeared to be some kind of arachnid, approached. Her sharp-toothed smile was far from reassuring, but the blindingly beautiful creations she presented in each of her four hands made Taisiya gasp with delight. Her underlings opened other boxes of such luxuries before her, their heads bowed.

“Behenu is the most gifted jeweller in all of Maat,” Mereruka whispered.

If what she saw arrayed before her were any indication, then Mereruka was not praising the woman highly enough. She’d never seen such delicate jewellery before. Gold latticework as fine as spiders’ silk, clear, perfectly cut gems that sparkled with the barest hint of light, rings so delicate and beautiful she feared they might break at her touch. But it was the necklaces which best showcased her talent, each one a marvel of intricate beading and master goldsmithing.

“I shall have everything here. Do you also make crowns?”

“Yes, Your Harmoniousness. I brought a few.” Behenu snapped her finger and servants bearing ornate boxes appeared.

The lot of them were presented to Taisiya, one after another. Gold circlets deceptive in their simplicity. Tiaras made of solid gemstone. Several were in the style of her first crown, jewelled circlets with strands of spun gold dripping jewels down the length of her hair. Each and every one was stunning. Mereruka had not been boasting when he assured her that she would be a queen so rich it would put the empress to shame.

“All of them?” Mereruka grinned.

“All of them,” Taisiya answered.

Behenu smiled.

“And you needn’t wait to wear them, Your Harmoniousness, for they were handmade rather than through magical means, and as such don’t require any weaving spells to settle into reality,” the spider-woman reassured her before bowing and taking her leave.

The last to approach was the dressmaker. Her assistants placed an enormous, gauzy sack of fabric over her head. By now, Taisiya had grown accustomed to the plain forms the fae of Maat used to weave their illusions onto. The fae woman wove her spelled cloak into every colour possible, noting the ones Taisiya liked best. Colours done, she began reshaping the fabric into dresses ranging from impractical splendour to dazzling yet sensible to decadently indecent. Mereruka’s eyes lit up at the racier frocks, and Taisiya nodded her assent, especially at those that had him nearly choking on his wine.

By the time the last artisan had left, the sun was setting and Taisiya was exhausted. She sat in the courtyard with Bas, Mereruka and Vasilisa, her new little family.

“Vasilisa, if I ever stop thinking that this kind of wasteful acquisitiveness is obscene, you may slap me,” Taisiya said as swigged her wine, feeling bedraggled despite her finery.

“If you ever make me stand by your side to watch you do it again, I will slap you repeatedly,” Vasilisa groaned as she arched her back.

“Just wait until tomorrow.” Bas grinned, looking no worse for wear. The lucky little furball had lounged in a plush bed at Mereruka’s feet brought especially for his comfort while servants tempted him with tasty treats. There was something to be said for the ease of a cat’s life.

“Tomorrow?!” Taisiya and Vasilisa asked together, with equal alarm.

Mereruka nodded.

“The barge-maker will come tomorrow.”

“Gods below, I’ll need one just to store my new purchases. Have I impoverished us?” Taisiya asked grimly. They’d only just begun assessing the full extent of the damage to the treasury. Perhaps she should have been more circumspect.

Mereruka snorted.

“No. You only asked for what was presented. Had you demanded a hundred times more of everything you liked, it would have only momentarily dented our treasury. Though you have been profligate, you have not purchased nearly enough to make Queen Betrest blush.”

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