Page 39 of Poisoned Empire
“Then I will be glad that it is not only my friend who benefits from a private dinner with her suitor.”
His broad smile made her heart flutter.Oh no.
“Follow me.”
She nodded. It occurred to her that perhaps her evening with Marduk might prove to be just as taxing on her heart as the dancing had been on her body. She resolved to spend the evening figuring out just what she wanted to do with her growing fondness for the big man.
Selene had watched contentedly from the sidelines while Iliana found herself the belle of the ball. Man after man propositioned her to dance, desperate to charm her. She’d slipped off somewhere with Marduk not long ago. Selene didn’t like it, but Iliana could gut a man if the situation called for it.
Selene did her best to blend into the scenery, happy to listen to the buzz of gossip around the refreshments. In the distance, the prince gamely fended off insistent elder magistrae, likely trying to negotiate the seat of empress for their daughters. He looked like he might need saving. Selene sat back to enjoy the show as the women drew closer, encircling their prey. She wasn’t the only one watching the scene with interest.
“What I don’t understand is why he hasn’t dismissed the ignobles among the bride candidates,” a nobilissima standing by the punch said.
“I confess I’m equally puzzled. Surely only the elementals should’ve been considered from the start. Anything else is an insult.”
“Exactly! I know there aren’t any fire mage noblewomen of high enough rank outside his family, but really! It’s vulgar for menials to parade about as if they deserve the title of domina, let alone empress.”
Selene eyed the women to her side. Not a one was more than a nobilissima, and it showed with the inferior charms they wore. Light mages often created various charms to disguise the odd imperfection, a wrinkle here, a pimple there, but they were easily caught out in flickering candlelight. Truly competent light mages could change the likeness of an entire feature; lips made plumper, cheekbones slightly elevated, a double chin faded to nothing, and a flickering light wouldn’t show any tell-tale signs. But such things cost a great deal of money, and the nobilissimae beside her were failing to hide their flaws, physical and otherwise.
People were scum, no matter how much money they had to waste on frivolous charms. The proof was in the pudding, or in this case, the noble. To compound matters, a nobleman convinced of his own self-importance swaggered over to her as she sipped wine beside one of her dead-eyed sisters. He made an ass of himself with a single sentence.
“I’m sure a poison mage like you rarely gets many offers to dance, so, shall we?”
Anger coiled in her gut. She’d spied him across the ballroom making some kind of boyish dare with his fellows as they pointed at her like schoolchildren, hoping they would keep to themselves. Perhaps he needed reminding why poison mages were universally feared and loathed. He should know to speak of poison mages in hushed tones well outside of earshot.
Alas, he was ignorant.
While she’d been warned against killing nobles, no one had forbidden teaching lessons. Selene smiled and held out her hand, all the while thinking of a list of poisons that might just do the trick. From across the room, his comrades were overcome by amazement.
As a dancer the man was subpar. He pulled, guiding her closer to his group. So be it. A good teacher was more than capable of handling multiple pupils. Before the song had even ended, she was surrounded by his leering friends. Unfortunately for them, all she had to do was breathe.
Her mere presence was too much for one, who opened his vile mouth first.
“So, is it true that anyone who puts their cock in you will die instantly?”
“Is it true you’re all infertile?”
“What about garden slugs, do you eat those?”
“You know, our garden is infested with those slimy creatures, care for a feast?”
Several sets of gleaming eyes were trained on her. While a gently bred noblewoman might run from this pack of snide bullies and their cruel questions, embarrassed and ashamed, Selene would not.
“Boys, boys. If you want to know, then lean in.” Selene crooked her finger, luring them in. “The one and only thing you must remember about poison mages is not to piss them off. By the time you’ve finished your insults, you’re doomed.”
“I don’t-” One of them started as his face turned a delightful shade of green. He did his best to hold it in, but it would be nigh impossible to prevent what happened next. One of her most potent emetics would help wash the filth from their lips. He lurched away from the group before he vomited.
“Oh g-” And another splattered his friend with half-digested appetizers.
Selene was already far enough away from them as they took turns collapsing into a pile of their own sick. As petty revenges went, this one was quite the spectacle. It reminded her of those fancy fountains in the middle of wealthy towns, except it was much more satisfying. She stifled a laugh as horrified nobles hastily vacated the area while servants tried to remove the men from the room. It had not gone unnoticed that she had been in a close huddle with them only moments before.
Ah, sweet, terrified, respectful distance. How I’ve missed this.
Instead of heading back towards her sisters, she sashayed her way to the prince. Rudely inserting herself inside the tight, claustrophobic circle of older women, Selene grinned when it loosened up as they realised who, or rather, what, she was. So laden with jewels it was a marvel their necks hadn’t snapped under the weight, each refused to acknowledge her, silently sipping wine. An ignoble domina without her parent or brother in tow was beneath the notice of an esteemed magistra. Unfortunately for them, Selene was becoming adept at these little power plays.
“It’s so very disappointing when young mendrinkto excess, don’t you think?”
Each of the women understood the implicit threat. Widening their eyes in horror, each stared at her beverage as if worms writhed in their crystal cups. Selene rarely saw dignified women make such hasty retreats, but to their credit, they made it look graceful.
