Page 93 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“Whenwe do,” Mereruka interrupted, his tone stern.

I forbid you from dying.Her heart skipped a beat.

“Then promise me an evening, just us, no one else, somewhere safe.”

He halted abruptly, his brows drawn with guilt and worry for her.

“I swear to be a better protector to you. I won’t allow my carelessness to put you in harm’s way again.”

Taisiya shook her head. Ah, gods, she was making a mess of it. She could plot the downfall of her enemies without issue, so why was she always so hopelessly tongue-tied when it came to intimate matters?

“That’s… that’s not what I meant,” she said, her eyes darting away from his face.

“Oh…? Oh!” he said, her meaning dawning on him. His grin turned sly. “We have a deal, my beautiful wife.” He kissed her hand as she fought a blush. “Do you remember that I told you about fae magic having a taste?”

She blinked, confused by the change of topic.

“Yes, vaguely.”

“None of my siblings possess magic that tastes like a common, recognizable food or drink. Except Khety.”

“Of course he does,” Taisiya replied flatly.

“Word to the wise, never eat a date in his presence.”

“And you? What does your magic taste like?” Taisiya asked. She supposed he must have healed her that night, but she thankfully recalled little of the aftermath.

He shrugged.

“Bas tells me it tastes like a combination of sour fruit and medicinal tea.”

That accounted for the terrible taste on her tongue the next morning. Taisiya couldn’t help her look of disgust.

“That’s repulsive.”

Mereruka grinned.

“Imagine the fortitude of fae magic instructors.”

Taisiya laughed. It was just as well. The doors to the receiving chamber opened of their own accord and they were ushered inside on a hush of quickly dying conversations.

It was time to meet the man she planned to dethrone.

The moment Mereruka entered with his wife on his arm, Itet spotted them, dragging Inkaef along like a ragdoll. She held a goblet of sloshing liquid as big as her horned head. Dread gripped him. Mereruka steered them away and through the throngs.

“Are we running from Itet?” Taisiya asked, amused.

“Sparing ourselves from her rapier wit. If you thought she was a handful in Rhacotis, you don’t want to know what she’s like when she genuinely believes she’s funny.” And by the size of her cup, she’d drunk enough to believe herself the epitome of comedy.

With some careful, graceful footwork, they managed to lose Itet in the crowded throne room. Entertainers plied their trade for groups of chatting, drinking nobles while others gesticulated wildly, intent on fierce debates. Each time Mereruka passed with Taisiya on his arm, he did his best to pretend he couldn’t see their avid interest, though it was not always possible to avoid. Here in the Court of the Emergence, Khety ruled. These were his allies, not Mereruka’s. They’d long known their king had no love for his youngest brother, and were not above cunning tricks with him as their victim in order to curry the king’s esteem.

Just as another pompous ass-kisser thought to be the first to halt their strides, Taisiya redirected him, squeezing his arm. The fewer people they had to endure today, the better. He lifted her hand to his lips in thanks.

Itet and Inkaef weren’t powerful enough to pose real problems to his plans. The vizier and the overseer of the royal guard? They were another matter. From this point forward, the real tests would begin. The whirlwind continued as his next sibling was upon them.

“You made a right mess of Shedet, Mereruka.”

This was someone they could not so easily side-step.

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