Page 10 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

Everyone had been unsettlingly attentive to her since she took the throne a year ago, and she wasn’t sure if this was just how it was to be queen or if they were only being careful because of the attack that had begun the war in the first place. Most of the time she welcomed the attention, but at times the lack of space could be stifling. Especially the times when she wanted something all to herself…particularly this time, when she had just set an admittedly dangerous plan into motion and wasn’t quite ready to tell her advisor about it.

Thankfully, she did have an equally distressing excuse. “Have you seen Leveya’s statue today?”

Venita took a sip of tea with a tired sigh. “I suppose we should see the positive in it—at least the people like you.” She sat on Theora’s bed, holding her stomach. “I’m more offended for my sister than anyone. But when peace is secured, people will move on from blaming Leveya and turn their eyes toward the future. In the meantime, for your own sanity, it’s best not to let those kinds of things upset you.”

Thank the Sovereign for Venita, ever levelheaded—after all, it was only a statue, not a memorial or a grave. Still, at the moment, all Theora wanted was for her to leave. “You’re right. As usual.”

“It’s my job to be, Your Grace.” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of peace, I noticed there was an addition to our party. Someone named Argos?”

Theora froze. Shit.

“Yes,” Theora said, trying to sound casual—if casual was the end of a feather poking out from a down pillow. She finally faced Venita and joined her on the bed. “Boada’s proxy.”

“So, she’s finally selected one? She took so long about it, I thought she’d decided against.” Venita paused, frowned, as if choosing her words incredibly carefully. “I thought the alpha’s name was Rita. Is Argos the relative of Boada’s who will be handling her?”

“Her name is Reva,” Theora corrected without thinking, then quickly went on, “I have no idea. I added the name Boada gave me.”

“I just don’t know any relatives of hers named Argos.”

“Well…” Theora shrugged. “You can’t very well be expected to know everyone.”

“It’s my job to know everyone who has anything to do with the politics in our colony.”

Good answer. Except Argos also lived in this colony, and Venita hadn’t bothered to get to know him.

But, of course, that was asking a lot. Even Theora, who had made it her mission to make sure the Warriors were taken care of as well as the Dociles, didn’t know a quarter of their names. Barely a fifth, if she was truly honest, and there were only about two hundred of them. She suddenly felt ashamed of that fact, but she shoved it to the back of her mind. There just wasn’t time to think about that sort of thing. Not now.

“Never mind,” Venita said, and Theora felt herself release a sigh of relief. “I’ll talk to Boada about it this week.”

“Oh. No,” Theora said quickly. “I’ll talk to her. I know she’s not always the easiest to track down for most people.”

And I don’t know how she’s going to explain that Argos is my husband.

Venita’s professional stoicism broke only once, a slight grimace that revealed her distaste. “She can be so incredibly unprofessional sometimes. Disrespectful.”

“What’s done is done,” Theora said quickly, coldly, with finality. She hadn’t the time to argue Boada’s virtues, not with the giant Warrior she was trying to hide still showering on the other side of the door. “Besides, she’s very good at her job. I trust her judgment.”

“Of course, Your Grace. I know you’ve always viewed her as a motherly figure. But, if I may say so, she does have a tendency to meddle in things that have nothing to do with her position.”

“Don’t all mothers?” Theora asked again quickly. She hadn’t meant to sound brusque, but this conversation was moving far too slowly for her liking. She imagined the shower shutting off at any moment, her deception falling apart. “Is that all, Venita? I’m exhausted.”

Her advisor tapped her manicured nails against the teacup, the bright tinkles of sound driving Theora’s nerves further up the wall. “Well, now that you mention it…have you spoken to Apollo lately?”

Despite the warmth in her cheeks the familiar name elicited, this time Theora did release her sigh, glancing at the bathroom door. This was clearly a conversation that was going to be difficult to keep short, and it had gone on long enough already. She stood, heading back toward the door to the hall. “We speak on the phone once a week. Why, did he say something?”

“He and I were discussing the arrangements to bring him home. And I was thinking, since the peace talks are next week, that this week would be ideal.”

“No,” Theora said quickly, forcing herself not to look toward the bathroom as she composed herself. “I mean, I miss him, too, but it’s too soon. I’d prefer we wait until the week after the talks—that way we’ll know for sure that peace is secured. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Forgive my forwardness, Your Grace,” Venita said stiffly, “but it looks as if you’re giving up on him the moment you’re free to propose.”

“I really can’t talk about this right now,” Theora said, unable to hold in a heavy sigh. “But as I mentioned at the start of the war, I don’t plan on marrying until peace is secured.”

“And it is. So, are you telling me the loss that binds you two means nothing?”

Theora paused, her hand on the knob of the door. This was the last thing she needed right now. She didn’t want to think about a year ago, and all the horrifying memories that came with it. She didn’t want to think about losing her friend and queen, about the man who was once her rock being sent away to the safety of another colony when she’d most needed him by her side.

She couldn’t get sentimental now. She loved Apollo dearly. They were best friends, confidants. They had been through the worst kind of heartache together—after all, Leveya had been Apollo’s sister, not just Theora’s friend. And, well…Theora and Apollo had always seemed like a natural pairing for marriage, even if romance had never been part of the equation.