Page 11 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

But the peace talks had to be her focus now. It was going to take everything within her to survive a week of negotiating with the enemy face-to-face. If she could get through that, she could get through anything…and to get through that, she had to endure a marriage of convenience to a man who wasn’t in any way an ideal husband for a queen. As much as she knew Apollo would support her no matter what, it was so much easier if no one outside of the peace talks knew.

Besides, she’d never expected to have to actually marry until she became queen…and she’d never dreamed Leveya’s rule would end so tragically soon. She wanted to put off having to think about it as long as possible.

“I realize he’s your brother and you feel compelled to defend him,” Theora said, “but our betrothal was never official. And besides—” She bit her lip. Venita was a stern businesswoman, a capable politician. In theory, she could easily lie, corroborate Theora’s story…and she would have to, because Theora would eventually have to tell her the truth. But Venita was also vehemently against all things that defied tradition. A Docile queen and a Warrior, married? The woman would have a conniption.

“Besides,” Theora continued, “I have dozens more nobles after my hand. Apollo understands that I need to select the one who most benefits our colony. That sort of decision takes time. Time I don’t have right now.”

“Everyone in the nobility and parliament understands that, Your Grace. They also know that my brother is the most favored choice of the people.”

“Is he?” Theora said blandly, her gut twisting by contrast.

There was no pretending. Brother to both the former queen and her advisor, Apollo had grown up in politics and had participated the only way men were normally allowed to in Aranea—through charity work and activism, through supporting and advising his queen. He was a constant advocate and help to the people, beloved by them as much as Theora was herself.

But expectations and adoration for him aside, Theora couldn’t find it within herself to think about a royal wedding at a time like this. Not until she held the signed peace agreement in her own two hands. Not until Argos was back in the barracks, and this awful business was behind her.

Thankfully, at the beginning of the war Apollo had been sent to stay in Ampulex with Boada’s people, taking advantage of the steadiest alliance any two colonies had ever formed. He was safest where he was, and even Venita wouldn’t dare send for him before peace was properly attained, no matter how badly she wanted to play matchmaker.

“Leveya wanted it, too,” Venita said quietly, reflectively.

Theora found herself grinning at the memories. “Remember when she desperately tried to put marriage laurels around our necks because we were holding hands?”

Venita broke into a smile, her small fangs glistening. “You do hold hands an awful lot in private.”

Theora scowled. “Hand-holding doesn’t have to necessarily mean romance.”

“No, but it reflects the love you feel for one another. I think it’s sweet.” Venita grinned, before letting out a soft sigh. “My sister could be a flighty ninny sometimes, but she understood the importance you and Apollo held, even while she was queen. To reignite the old ways of queen and king standing side by side, with both of you bearing the mark of being chosen by the Sovereign, on top of that…You must know how much that would mean to all of Aranea.”

“Why, Venita.” Theora grinned the slightest bit. “How very untraditional of you.”

“I’ll admit, one or two of the ancient ways still have merit,” Venita said, however reluctantly. “Generally, there’s no point in a queen marrying unless there’s some political gain involved, or unless she just wants children of her own. But with you and Apollo…” Her expression turned mildly concerned. “If I’m honest, Your Grace, those aren’t the main reasons I believe you should consider the match. With the war being over now, there’s really nothing to distract the people from, well…your lack of magic.”

Theora hadn’t been able to attend to many regular queenly duties due to the war, but Venita was right. Queens were expected to weave ceremonial ribbons fairly often. To christen new buildings and ships, as a way to honor people who contributed greatly to the colony. And the smaller ribbons were usually woven in front of the person being honored—that was part of the Honor in itself.

Naturally, she couldn’t do…any of that.

Theora swallowed. “And you believe Apollo will be that distraction?”

“I know that he will make it his mission to be so. His loyalty, combined with the sheer adoration and worship the people will show toward you both, being hand-selected by the Sovereign to rule.” She was thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. “Not to mention you both have high approval ratings from the public, in general.”

Theora chuckled, and suddenly it felt as if she were in a time before the war. Before the pain. When she would laugh with Venita as if the woman were her older sister rather than an advisor she had to treat cordially.

But Venita had always possessed the serious, businesslike personality Leveya lacked, and she quickly sobered from her nostalgia into a woman with a queen and colony to protect. “For my sister’s sake,” she said now, “don’t let her death be in vain.”

Leveya had never been the responsible type. Theora had sometimes been frustrated by her friend’s lack of any sense of duty, her preference for lavish parties over politics. But…she had been Theora’s best friend. They’d been the same age, with Apollo a year older, and all three were raised in the palace together. Thick as thieves.

And yet…sweet memories of her friend were so often buried beneath memories of the attack that had killed her and left Theora traumatized. The sound of Leveya’s screams, the sharp agony of a stinger tearing through Theora’s leg. The scar on her hip that itched and ached whenever she was forced to think about it.

Theora wrangled the urge to scratch at her scar, shoving the memories away with it. “One thing at a time,” she said, and escorted Venita to the door. “And that includes me showering and you getting to your bedroom before that tea makes you too drowsy.”

“Thank you for your time, Your Grace.” The advisor paused. “And I hope you know…it’s okay to help our people and make yourself happy in the process. You’re allowed to do both.”

“Thank you, Venita,” Theora said, and her advisor bowed and headed back down the hall.

She was thankful Venita hadn’t pushed for her to explain any more, as she so often did. How could anyone who wasn’t a ruler truly understand the weight of her decisions? That it was so much easier on her nerves to not have to worry about the life of her consort, a man she hoped to love, when war could very well erupt all over again at any moment? That she could never truly be happy until her people were safe.

Until she felt safe.

Theora shut and locked her door behind her, just in time to hear the shower shut off. She positioned herself in front of the door and took a deep breath, steeling herself to face Argos again as he opened the door. But her authoritative plans crumbled when he opened it, the steam not fogging her lenses quite fast enough for her to miss his muscular body on full display.