Page 97 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

“Exactly,” Pyre said, grinning. “I mean for us to be more than just colonies at peace. I want us to be allies, Theora. Now, what do you require to make that happen?”

Theora thought for a moment. Aranea truly was thriving without the help of any colony. Honestly, if they were friendly with other colonies, it was for the benefit of trade.

There was only one thing Vespula had that Aranea didn’t.

“Medical advancements,” Theora said.

Pyre pursed her lips, her mismatched eyes shifting over Theora’s face, as if to determine how much she should say. “We normally don’t do that.”

“These are my terms. The skill of my Warriors is worth that. More than that.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Pyre paused. “Fine. Some advancements. At the discretion of my scientists.”

“Acceptable.” Theora glanced into the bedroom. “I’ll have to wake Argos to be my witness.”

“No need. Apollo’s on his way.”

“Apollo?” Theora blinked, settling into an expression of disbelief. “How do you know Apollo—?”

Frantic screams and pounding outside the door sent Pyre quickly to her feet. She drew one of her stingers as a precaution. “Stay in here,” she said, and rushed out the door.

Theora immediately thought of Venita.

She must have followed Apollo.

She ran into the bedroom to see to Argos but found him awake and attempting to get up—the medicine Pyre had given him was still making him sluggish.

“We have to go,” she whispered—she didn’t know why she was whispering, she just had an awful feeling that someone might overhear. “Quickly.”

“Quickly” was an understatement. The shouts and noises were getting louder, more desperate, as if a battle were happening right outside the door.

“The one time I sleep is the one time something happens,” he muttered.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered back. “It’s not your fault.”

The door was suddenly kicked in and over a dozen Lasi guards stormed the room. Theora screamed as they used shock rods against Argos.

“He’s already injured!” she cried as the guards dragged them from the suite. “You’re hurting him, stop it!”

Most of the guards held Argos down, forcing him to his knees, shock rods at the ready, despite his weakened state. Two guards held Theora’s arms behind her back. Pyre and all her handmaidens were also being held captive—it was obvious these people had no respect for anyone. But Theora wasn’t in the headspace to feel offended by the physical touch, or to demand they let her go. Even knowing who was responsible, she was far too devastated to see Venita standing before her.

Venita rubbed her belly, a strange contrast to her wicked deeds—life and death within her. “I tried to do this differently, Your Grace, I really did. If you had only waited until peace was established and married my brother, I wouldn’t have to kill you right now. But you just had to go and pick that savage.”

“You murdered your own sister,” Theora snapped, “and started a war to cover it up. And you say Argos is the savage?”

“Oh, don’t pretend Leveya was a good queen,” she said, though not without emotion. “It was her inaction that brought us to war, after a hundred years of peace. She didn’t listen to me. You don’t listen to me. How could the Sovereign select such incompetent fools when me or my brother are perfectly capable?”

Theora struggled against the hands that gripped her. “Are you insane? You’re the one who started the war.”

“And now I’m going to end it, thus making Apollo look like a hero. He’s beloved among the people, as well as by the parliament. I’m sure there would be no protests to his ruling, even if it isn’t quite traditional.”

Theora growled, hate blooming in her chest. “So, you’re a hypocrite.”

“No, Your Grace,” Venita said severely. “I’m a realist.”

She snapped her fingers, and one of the guards brought over a vial of bright blue venom.

“Venita, no!” Theora cried—too late to stop the guard from injecting it into her husband’s neck.