Page 54 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

Theora took a few steps away from him, and he took the opportunity to do what he’d intended as soon as he entered—truly examine the room for hidden dangers. Still, he kept his ears open to their conversation—he needed to know everything if he was to do his job effectively.

Theora joined her advisor on the couch, kicking off her shoes. “Go on. I know you have plenty to say.”

Venita raised her eyebrows. “Where would you like me to begin?”

“At your point.”

“You should’ve left your pet at home.”

Argos felt heat crawling up the back of his neck at the insult, nearly crushing the painting he’d just removed from the wall, but Theora quickly said, “Don’t call him that, Venita. Have some class.”

Venita sounded offended and weary. “He nearly sabotaged the peace talks.”

“What exactly did he do?” Theora growled. “He was far more civil than that honeyfluff.”

Venita paused. “What…is a honeyfluff—?”

“Pyre was practically accusing us of murder.”

“And the judge saw right through it. We did nothing wrong.”

Argos held in a scoff. They’d done nothing wrong, though, admittedly, they’d most definitely done something. Boada had been right—the less Venita knew, the better they were positioned for success.

“But you know,” the advisor continued, “you can’t just insult the people we’re trying to make peace with. Specifically their fallen, the day after the tragedy.”

“I-I—” Theora paused. She took a breath, and Argos felt an odd instinct to rush over and throw Venita out. “That was tasteless, I’ll admit. But I was terrified, Venita. Every single moment I was on edge, anticipating an attack.”

There was a stretching silence between them before Venita said, “Forgive me, Your Grace. It’s not fair for me to blame anyone. Pyre did seem particularly hell-bent on accusing us.” They were quiet again for a moment. “But I know the Judge Imperium will make this right. In the meantime, we should try to relax and enjoy the rest of the day. Have fun. I’ll bring Boada up to speed later.”

Argos peeked from behind the wall just in time to see Theora remove her glasses and rub her eyes, remembering too late she was wearing eye makeup. She frowned at the black smudge on her fingers. He grinned. There was something strangely satisfying about seeing this stubbornly buttoned-up queen undone.

“Your husband took the train in, I presume,” she said, walking to a mirror to check her face.

“No, he’s with the kids,” Venita replied. “I’m staying with Apollo, but I’m happy to stay here instead if you need me.”

Theora sighed. “No, it’s fine. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Argos sat on the floor to face the wall. Maybe if Theora thought he’d been praying, she wouldn’t know he’d been suspicious of their room. Or listening in on their conversation, for that matter. He heard Venita leave, and then Theora sigh as she approached.

“What was with the request for oranges?” she asked.

“There’s no sunlight down here,” he said. “You need your vitamins.”

They also happened to be a ritualistic marriage fruit, but there was no sense in telling her that. It wasn’t as if they’d actually speak to each other beyond this week.

“I suppose that’s a good idea.” She was quiet for a moment. “You didn’t have to lay it on so thick, you know.”

Argos lay on his back, tipping his head back to see, from his upside-down view, that she was watching him from the doorway instead of entering the room. As if the floor were ice and she were hesitant to step on it. “What?”

“The intimacy. We don’t have to touch so much.”

“We fooled everyone we were supposed to, didn’t we?”

“True.” Theora still hesitated, leaning her hands on either side of the doorway. “But I don’t want to hurt Apollo.”

“Eh, roses have thorns, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“You ass.” Theora finally walked into the room just to plant her bare foot on his stomach without warning.