Page 23 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

“You’re far more clever than I’ve given you credit for,” she muttered.

“You clearly haven’t met enough Warriors.”

Her pulse only elevated further. “Fine,” she said, her voice tight. “Let’s negotiate.”

Argos put his weaving project in his pocket before folding his arms across his chest. “I just want you to respect the ritual.”

“You and I both know this is not a true union. We’re under no contract, no obligation, to stay together.”

“You’re confusing contract and covenant. Just because you aren’t emotionally invested doesn’t make it any less real. It is a true union.”

“Which will be dissolved in two weeks’ time. Two weeks in which I have no intention of behaving like a Warrior’s wife, despite your ritual. For that reason, I’m willing to offer you something in exchange, of equal value. Name your terms.”

“You still don’t get it.” A small rumble in his chest emphasized his words. “I want you to respect the ritual,” he said, speaking slower, as if that would help her understand.

“There must be something else you want. You’re mortal, aren’t you?” she asked, though she gave him a dubious look, as if she wasn’t quite sure. “Not everything in your life can be based on rituals.”

He paused. “Not everything.”

“Well, then?” She paused, her eyes lighting a bit. “What about a watch?”

He scoffed and looked at the hard ground for a long moment. “Not unless you plan on keeping me.”

Theora grimaced. “It’s not a trophy, it’s a bribe. A transaction.”

“As much as I wouldn’t mind a new watch, I’m going to have to maintain my dignity this time around.”

Theora took a deep breath, stretching her back as if this whole affair was causing tension. “But I claimed you. Surely that counts for something.”

“It does…within the confines of the ritual.”

Theora scowled for a long moment, glaring up at him. He was right, but she would rather choke than admit it.

“Where will you sleep?” she asked, a slight edge in her voice.

Argos paused. “The floor is fine,” he said, and she was just grateful his words weren’t petty, weren’t ornamented by argument or sarcasm.

“Fine,” Theora snapped, despite his gracious reply, stepping closer as if that would amplify her glare, intimidate him somehow.

“Fine,” he agreed, with far less venom but just enough satisfaction to annoy her.

“And by the way,” she added, only because she couldn’t stand the idea of him having the last word, “trophies are out of the question. I’ll allow you to hunt, but don’t go bringing me anything.”

“Trust me, that won’t be a problem.”

Despite her feelings on the topic, it did hurt that he could reject her so immediately. “Well, good.”

“Okay then.”

“Fine.”

She lingered for a moment, glaring up at him, as if waiting to see if he’d speak again, defy her. But the warmth of his presence was a bit of a distraction from her pettiness. His face was close over hers, and she found herself glancing at his lips, craving to taste them. It was only then that she truly realized how close she’d gotten to him.

And with that, she turned away from him quickly, accidently brushing against his warm clothing, rushing a few steps to put space between herself and irrational temptation.

Chapter 6

Argos