Page 84 of Conspirators' Kingdom

Please, gods, let him surrender.

“Hmm.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “I don’t believe you’ve properly congratulated us on our marriage. In the Empire of Mages it is customary to give the newly wedded couple many gifts. Luckily for you, Henenu, you have something I want.”

“Name it and it is yours, Your Harmoniousness,” Henenu said, a sliver of hope in his voice.

Taisiya clapped her hands.

“Splendid! Then I shall have your nome. Our treasury has already financed the construction of a palace. Now, it will be made into one fit for a princess consort.”

Henenu flinched, shocked into a moment of silence.

Mereruka held his breath as the nomarch tensed. He should trust in their plan, in her, in all the precautions they’d taken, but he could not beat back his dread.

“And what would you do with me, Your Harmoniousness?” Henenu asked haltingly.

“Perhaps, if you are very, very well-behaved, I shall allow you and your family to live in Shedet and work for my benefit.”

The—now former—nomarch contemplated his reduced fortunes, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. Mereruka scanned the gathered crowd. Everywhere he saw threats, all of them aimed at Taisiya. He nearly came out of his skin in the few heartbeats it took for Henenu to reply.

“Princess Consort, you are merciful and fair. Shedet is lucky to have you as its nomarch,” Henenu murmured.

Luck had favoured them, for he did not make to lash out at Taisiya. Luck. He’d gambled her life. Just to settle a score with a man of little consequence. Shame scalded him, eased only by the knowledge that they had been victorious. Henenu had admitted his crimes and relinquished his rights to the nome in front of witnesses. Not even Henenu’s ally and Mereruka’s brother, Radjedef, would be able to save the former nomarch now.

Some of Henenu’s sons and daughters gasped, others hung their heads in shame, but not one moved to attack.

“Yes, and so long as its people are obedient, they need never watch their kin annihilated by lightning strike,” Taisiya whispered, just loud enough for Mereruka to hear.

She was assisted back into the confines of the palanquin, back within his protective embrace. Mereruka’s gut ceased clenching in sick anticipation. Once at his side, the corners of her lips turned up in triumph. Mereruka eased his scowl and kept his attention divided between her and Henenu’s frozen posture.

“I have dispensed justice, dearest husband. Is your anger appeased?” she asked.

He needed to calm his racing heart. They still had the last bit of their plan to enact.

“If you are happy, then I am pleased.” He smiled, though he doubted it reached his eyes.

Taisiya nodded.

Mereruka scowled at Henenu and his children. At least in this, it was not an act.

“Henenu, your first task is to locate Maat’s most renowned architect and convince him to build my wife’s palace. I believe he is vacationing in the area. One of your children will show her people to your former home so that they can acquaint themselves with the administration of her nome. I trust you and your family will find accommodations elsewhere,” Mereruka commanded.

“Yes, Your Tranquility. It will be done,” Henenu replied, lifting himself from the ground on shaky knees and backing away with his head bowed.

And with that, Mereruka and Taisiya had doubled their territory without shedding a single drop of blood. It should have pleased him utterly, and yet he dreaded what this newfound fear might mean for their future schemes.

Chapter 34

Shehadn’tdreamtthisnightmare in months.

Taisiya sat quietly in an overstuffed chair, embroidering the hem of a silk dress. Daria was similarly occupied, her back ramrod straight. Sonya’s eyes glazed over as she turned the pages of a small book of etiquette. Only the rhythmic scuff of paper on paper punctured the horrid calm of the room.

Men with dour faces and swords at their hips watched over her and her sisters, their eyes piercing and distrustful. That dreadful grey fog held her captive, dulling her thoughts and dousing even a flicker of feeling. She knew her father was scheduled to be executed. She knew her young brother, Dimitri, would die alongside him. Yet she knew no fear, no desperation, no fierce need to save them from their fate. No. The palace servant had suggested she embroider, and so, like the soulless puppet she’d become, she’d complied. The Ritual had robbed her in the vilest way, not even leaving her with the sense to understand the profound loss.

The growing commotion echoing through the palace halls failed to rouse her. When the booming of thunder shook the delicate tea set arrayed before her and caused the dress to slide from her fingers, she merely picked it up and continued her task. As the screams of the maimed and dying rang out, she smoothed a wrinkle in the skirts.

Taisiya felt nothing—was nothing.

Until that changed.

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