Page 68 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“And the princesses?”

“Itet rarely bothers due to the constant fighting at the borders, and Nefertnesu is queen of another court and so wears one befitting her adopted land. Only Khety and I are married, so there are no other princesses.”

Taisiya nodded. With her nerves threatening to overtake her, sitting still was an impossibility. She rose and went to the railing. At least here she could dig her nails into the wood. At least like this she could close her eyes, breathe in the salty sea air, and imagine she was not leagues from home. But she could only keep her eyes closed for so long. The bluest waters she’d ever seen reflected an unnaturally bright sun. As the port came into view, structures shimmered in the humidity. Buildings painted in green, blues, golds, reds and more rose as if emerging from the sea, only a hair above the height of the water. Further out, homes and businesses were arrayed in a haphazard placement atop mounds, water lapping gently at the walls. Small boats sailed between homes and larger buildings. In the middle distance, a grand palace rose up, its high walls brightly painted with Mereruka’s likeness. If she stared too long, she might begin to think the whole of it floated on the waves. Maybe with the help of magic, it did.

Mereruka walked to her side.

“Are you nervous?”

“Have I made it too obvious?”

“No, you’re doing an admirable job of hiding it. But you always put on your disinterested mask when you wish to hide your thoughts,” he answered.

Taisiya sighed. She disliked that he could read her so easily now. How soon before the whole of Maat could sense her unease? How soon before her weakness threatened her safety?

“It’s just nerves and a bit of self-pity. It will pass.” She gave the railing another squeeze, as if in abusing it she could force it to take away the tangled knot inside her.

“You’re quick to accept me as your husband when it comes to practical matters, but not when it comes to your heart. We’re in this together, Taisiya. There is no shame in coming to me with your anxieties.”

“I won’t let them affect our plans. What use is there in discussing them?” she dismissed him. She didn’t want to give him more he could use against her.

“Some might argue that once a fear is named, it loses its power,” he mused.

Taisiya dug her nails into her palms as the specks of people began forming into recognizable shapes. Bright, dull, pale, dark—the fae were a riot of colours from head to toe with no rhyme or reason. Only the shapeshifters that wove between them seemed to conform to any familiar rules in their appearances. Gods below, she was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Everything is different,” Taisiya whispered. “It’s overwhelming.”

Mereruka covered her eyes with his hands.

“What is different? What worries you?”

“The people, their magic, the buildings, everything,” she answered.

“Beneath the skin, their hearts and desires are the same as yours. Some lust for gold, others for renown, some only wish to outshine their acquaintances. Others toil, content with their lot and despise change, while a few travel the world, seeking adventure. Some care only for themselves, others just for their kin, and some wish to care for the whole of Oblivion. Some specialize in their magic, like the mages, others wish to learn every spell ever created, some are gifted, while others are content never to learn more than a few basic enchantments. Our buildings are much like your own; floors, walls, ceilings, windows, just made in different colours and proportions. It may appear strange to you now, but in a few years, Maat will become as ordinary to you as Lethe.”

He began pulling his hands away. She grabbed his wrists and held them in place. She wanted him to let her pretend, just for a few more moments. Breathing deep, relaxing her shoulders, she felt the thrum of his pulse against her fingertips. Her anxieties receded, if only a little. He was right. They were not much different from mages. Their ambitions were stepping stones; she only needed to know where to place her feet in order to rise. Their desires were hers to manipulate for her gain, the same as she had in the empire.

But one doubt could not be beaten back.

“Am I… just a short-lived pet in your eyes? Useful for a time, but ultimately insignificant?”

She had to know the truth, even if she hated it. She could not allow this affection—these momentary lapses in good judgment—to keep growing. Especially if she were just some transitory trial he simply had to endure. She could live with that, but she needed to know, to regain her balance.

He pulled his hands away from her eyes and placed them on her shoulders. Slowly, he turned her to face him. Brows furrowed and lips pursed, he was the picture of displeasure.

“Are we married?”

She raised a brow.

“Yes.”

“Did you agree to become a queen at my side?”

“I did.”

“Are you an unapologetic political strategist?”

“I am.”

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