Conspirators' Kingdom (Mages of Oblivion Book 2) by Elyse Thomson

Author:Elyse Thomson [Thomson, Elyse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Two Laurels Press
Published: 2024-02-05T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Mereruka had quickly learned that when his wife was working, he should either make himself useful or scarce. When he’d come into the office he’d set up for her personal use, he’d found her buried under rolls of papyrus, dictating letters, commanding a small army of servants and duplicating documents being read aloud into Lethe’s script. At the mention of another appointment, he’d feared for his own health and had taken to commissioning her barge himself. Taisiya spent the morning exhausting herself with her many tasks. By the time the sun had reached its zenith, she had already chosen the staff for her soon-to-be palace. It was only then, once his business was complete, that he dared interrupt her.

“Perhaps a refreshing meal in the shade would rejuvenate you,” he said as he kissed her cheek.

He offered his hand and she reluctantly put down her reed, wiping the traces of ink from her fingers on a towel provided by one of the servants. Though by now all the palace staff knew the mage language and she had several personal scribes, not a one knew how to write in her language. He would have to see to it that one of the scribes was trained to read and write the mage script.

“That does sound good.” She sighed and took his proffered hand.

Just as he was leading her to the courtyard where a hearty meal had been laid out, Qar appeared, his expression grim and his hippo ears twitching angrily.

“Forgive me, Your Tranquility, but I couldn’t stop her.”

Her? Mereruka’s sigh was drowned out by the booming echo of the doors of the inner palace being flung open with a powerful, hooved kick.

“Gods below, you’re actually not dead!”

Mereruka raised a violet brow at his elder sister, Itet. Her blue and gold soldier’s tunic complimented her shocked blue eyes. Black hair fell down her back in thick braids, the teeth and claws of fallen foes woven in as grim decoration, swinging with her strides and noisily knocking against each other. No crown sat upon her head, but in Maat she didn’t need it. Itet’s reputation preceded her. Oversized skein in her lime green hand, she took a swig. Full of alcohol, no doubt. As she raced forward, with no concern for personal space, she inspected him all over, her horns nearly impaling his chin.

“Shockingly, neither are you,” Mereruka replied.

Her bawdy laugh was rich and unrestrained. She circled Taisiya with great interest.

“Princess Consort Taisiya, this is my sister, Itet,” Mereruka said by way of introductions.

Taisiya sized her up, her mask firmly in place, standing still as a statue while his sister gawked.

“You look like a witch,” Itet accused.

“Better a witch than a goat,” Taisiya retorted, her eyes lingering tellingly on Itet’s horns and hooves.

“Ooh! A feisty one! We should go drinking together.” Itet smiled.

Mereruka stepped between them, narrowing his eyes at Itet.

“Don’t agree to that. What she calls drinking, any sane man calls a death sport,” Mereruka warned. When he’d been younger, Itet had often cajoled him into drinking with her.

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