Page 34 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

The head was drained of blood, the features lax, though the eyelids weren’t closed completely. If it had been an animal head maybe Theora wouldn’t have been fighting the urge to vomit. If it had been anything but a person’s head.

Anything but the head of the Vespulan war commander.

She scrambled backward, tumbled off the end of the bed, rushed into the bathroom, and locked herself in.

“I didn’t see that,” she murmured. “I did not just see that. Oh, Blessed Sovereign, don’t do this to me…”

A gag clenched her muscles and she rushed to the toilet, throwing her glasses onto the tile just in time, so they wouldn’t join her vomit. She heaved until there was nothing left and then curled up on the cold floor in a panic.

For pity’s sake, Theora. You didn’t become queen of Aranea by acting like a baby.

No. She became queen by violent default.

She pushed herself up and rinsed out her mouth in the sink, threw cold water on her face. She put her glasses back on as she stared at herself in the mirror, not really knowing what she was looking at.

Well…at least she wouldn’t have to manufacture an excuse to reject his gift.

Theora eased the door open, fully expecting the severed head to greet her. Instead she faced her husband sitting on the bed, leftover red from his hands staining the covers where he gripped them.

“Argos,” she squeaked. She swallowed and took a trembling breath. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

He looked up at her slowly, his golden eyes like a bonfire gone wild. “I killed the honeyfluff for you,” he said, as if it were as simple as that.

Honeyfluff ? Is that what Warriors call Vespulans?

She would have laughed if this weren’t the worst thing in the world she could think of. He had killed the commander of their enemy’s army. In the middle of a ceasefire. The night before the peace talks.

What the hell was she going to do?

“I let you hunt,” she said, her voice shaking. “I thought that meant killing an animal.”

“Right,” he agreed. Again, it sounded so simple.

Theora had to give herself a minute to unravel the knot in her throat before continuing. “You can’t just kill people. This isn’t a battlefield. And we’re in the middle of a ceasefire.”

“I was chosen to protect you, Theora. If anyone orchestrated the attack that began the war, it was Kenzi. Besides,” he added, gesturing to the other side of the bed, where, thankfully, his gift lay out of Theora’s sight line, “this is exactly what you wanted.”

As much as she could admit he was right, her stomach tightened. “When did I ever say I wanted you to behead someone?” she said, her voice raised to the edge of panic. “I would never say that.”

“At the beginning of the week. You said you were not allowed to retaliate,” he said, then gestured to his trophy again. “Ta-da.”

It pained her to admit it, but he wasn’t wrong. She had said that. She’d also been vulnerable with him, shown him her scar. He’d obviously put the story together and killed the person responsible for hurting her, which was…exactly what she’d selected him to do, wasn’t it? Protect her from the enemy.

But that didn’t mean this was all right. In fact, it was a disaster.

“I have peace talks with the Vespulans tomorrow. What do you think will happen if they find out my Warrior husband murdered one of the most important officers in their colony?”

Argos didn’t look concerned. In fact, he looked a little confused.

The knot in Theora’s throat threatened to suffocate her. This was an act of war. There was no explaining it otherwise. Even if no one had seen Argos, it was still too much of a coincidence that it had happened right after their trading post had been taken, and right before she was expected to commit to a future of peace.

“We need help,” she said, throwing on a silky robe. “I’m calling Boada. Go get rid of…that.”

Argos was quiet. Hesitant. “You’re displeased?”

“Are you kidding me, Argos?” Theora pressed her hands against her hot cheeks, collecting her thoughts. “This is probably the worst thing you could’ve done. Now take that disgusting thing out of my room.”

He sat for another moment, not even a rumbling growl breaking the silence. And then he got up, scooped the head up in its sack, and left the room so quickly Theora blinked and missed it.