Page 94 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“Good evening to you, Serfka.” Mereruka grinned.

Serfka crossed both sets of his pale blue arms and glared, his silver eyes level with Mereruka’s. Pleased to know he hadn’t misread the vizier, Mereruka held his ground. Serfka cared not at all for the deceased nomarch, only for the bureaucratic mess his death had left behind.

“In any case, Shedet made a mess of Rhacotis first,” Mereruka said.

Serfka released a frustrated sigh, pushing a strand of grey hair from his face. In the centre of his forehead, the mark of disinheritance marred his skin. It was the only mark a royal might bear without social consequence, taken as it was to demonstrate the complete absence of ruling ambitions. Being the vizier, Serfka had felt it safest to take the mark rather than court the king’s suspicion. A coward’s choice, to be sure, but at least it made Mereruka’s goals that much more attainable.

Serfka’s look of resignation said it all. Angry though he was, the Vizier was not unreasonable. If he knew what had happened to Rhacotis in Mereruka’s absence, and what had happened when he’d sought recompense for it in Shedet, Serfka knew he had no real reason to denigrate his little brother’s actions. The vizier was nothing if not well-informed.

“I’m relieved you’re not truly dead, Meri, and that all the wild rumours are just that.” He smiled, a genuine, weary quirk of his blue lips.

“As am I. Though I believe Inkaef is less pleased. It seems he made a bet against my good health and will be short a dozen horses as a result,” Mereruka said.

Serfka chuckled. The brotherly affection had been short-lived. He quickly straightened his posture and nodded officiously.

“You had best get Shedet’s affairs in good order soon, or I’ll make it my business to audit it.”

“I will keep that in mind, now that I’m its nomarch,” Taisiya replied, dragging Serfka’s attention down to her.

“You?” Serfka asked, as if seeing her for the first time.

“Me. It’s my wedding present… to myself,” Taisiya said as smugly as possible.

“Apologies for the late introductions, Serfka. This is my wife, Princess Consort Taisiya, Nomarch of Shedet, recently of Lethe, the Empire of Mages. I had hoped the crown upon her head might have clued you in,” Mereruka added.

Serfka’s greatest pride was in having Maat so well run that its king rarely had to lift a finger. Any threat to the peaceful, good governance of Maat was a threat Serfka dealt with using the same zeal Itet saved for drinking and her sanctioned brawls at the borders. It also meant Serfka had a certain tunnel vision when he was preoccupied with dragging Maat’s affairs back in order. Serfka appeared mortified by the oversight.

“Prince Serfka, Vizier of King Khety. I apologise for my rudeness in overlooking you, Your Harmoniousness.” Serfka took Taisiya’s hand and kissed it by way of introduction.

“A man who knows how to apologise? You must be quite popular.” Taisiya grinned.

Serfka returned her practised smile with one of his own.

“If you have any need of administrators for your nome, you need only ask,” Serfka offered.

“We are blessed with many capable minds.” Mereruka politely declined his offer. Though Serfka was not an enemy, he had no desire to give him, and potentially Khety, an opening to interfere. There were enough spies trying to infiltrate his ranks already.

Serfka nodded.

“Come. I’m sure His Eternal Serenity is eager to see you,” Serfka said as he looked over his shoulder and motioned them to follow.

He led the way through the throngs of courtiers, politely brushing them off with consummate skill. Mereruka kept Taisiya close and followed in his brother’s wake, eager to escape the attentions of the other nobles. Meeting the entirety of his family would be more than enough to deal with for one night.

Alas, the night was not over.

Before they could reach Khety, Radjedef intercepted them. Garbed in an ornamental military tunic, the overseer of the royal guard shouldered his way into view and stood bodily in their way, his beefy arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Mereruka steeled himself to deal with his second-least favourite brother. Taisiya tensed beside him, no doubt picking up on the open hostility in Radjedef’s reptilian gaze.

“Is that a new whore, brother? Not afraid Khety will steal her from you like the last one?” Radjedef grinned, leering at Taisiya with his bright yellow eyes.

“Radjedef!” Serfka shouted despairingly, horrified by the insults.

“Husband, is this unpleasant red snake of a man your brother?” Taisiya looked Radjedef up and down, curling her lip as she might at the sight of a pile of steaming offal.

“This is Prince Radjedef, Overseer of the Royal Guards. No one is more ashamed of—or bewildered by—our shared parentage than I,” Mereruka answered. “Would you like to be introduced to him, my love?”

“I’ll pass.” Taisiya raised her chin and looked down her nose at Radjedef. A feat, given his looming height.

A little thrill of victory warmed him as Radjedef’s scowl darkened. Narrowing his eyes, Radjedef barred their path as the trio attempted to pass him by, his red, scaled, outstretched arm nearly touching Mereruka’s chest.

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