Chapter 23 #2
They exited the tunnel into the market behind a pile of crates, and Argos swiftly led Theora in to naturally blend with the crowd.
Once there, Theora felt more comfortable and took over.
There was no threat of danger here, now that they were in the East Market, where the Vespulans had no access.
Besides, this was her domain, markets and people.
She had no idea what she was looking for, but maybe they didn’t need to look for anything.
Maybe they both just needed some time out of that suite.
To think of something other than why they were there.
Perusing the stalls instead of rushing by them as they had done the other day, Theora paused to greet everyone who spoke to her.
And everyone spoke to her—there wasn’t a stall owner who didn’t recognize the beautiful Queen Theora, who didn’t want to give her free merchandise.
The goal had been to avoid notice, but there didn’t seem to be anybody who didn’t know who Theora was, even if some had only heard of her and seen her photos in the newspapers.
“Everything smells so good,” she said. “I didn’t realize how hungry I am.”
“I did,” said Argos.
She looked up at him. Not with annoyance, but with the slightest bit of admiration.
She took his hand and led them to the exact stall that had struck his curiosity the last time they’d been here, with the marinated octopus grilling and fragrant.
The cook behind the counter was so excited to be hosting royalty, she rushed around the counter and nearly hugged Theora instead of bowing.
“Growing up,” said Theora, “I would have dinner with Boada at least once a week, and I always asked her for this—I’ve never tasted a broth like hers from any restaurant. Only an Ampulexi can make it for you right.”
“Bless you, Your Grace,” said the woman, beaming. “Come, sit. I’ll make you a little of everything.”
The two of them sat at the wooden stools, and Theora taught him how to use chopsticks while they waited.
“You learn so quickly,” she said, watching him hold the utensils. “It took me ages to get it right.”
Argos shrugged. “I’m good at taking direction.”
“I know.” Heat radiated up her chest to her ears. “Don’t say it.”
“Wasn’t going to,” he said, barely holding in a smirk.
The woman served them two heaping bowls of noodles in fragrant broth, topped with all sorts of vegetables, chilis, and the marinated octopus.
When she had eaten enough to stave off her hunger, Theora turned on her stool to face him. “So how does this work? This voice-command magic?”
Argos took a moment to chew—she’d asked just as he’d stuffed too many noodles into his mouth. “You should ask Boada.”
“No, I mean on your end. What exactly do the commands do?”
“It’s like a stopper. It shuts away my magic. Mutes it.”
The woman placed a plate of fried vegetable-filled rolls in front of them.
“But it’s still there?” Theora asked, attempting to take one, the heat of it making her pull her hand back. “The magic, I mean.”
Argos shrugged. “It’s always there. Sometimes it overpowers me, sometimes it doesn’t.”
“How do you keep that from happening?”
“Rituals. Discipline.” He shrugged again. “You.”
“Is my magic different from Boada’s?”
Argos was quiet for a moment. “Boada’s magic is powerful, but I feel nothing from it when she isn’t actively using it. Yours is…it’s woven in your voice, in a way. Sometimes…”
Theora grinned as she watched a small blush bloom on his cheeks.
“Sometimes?” she prompted.
He took a breath. “It feels like you claimed me before you ever put that rope on me. That I was yours before I ever met you.”
Theora was speechless. Her heart fluttered, and when he looked at her, she felt flustered in the best way. “Yeah?”
“I resented you for a long time for that.”
“And do you still?” She turned her attention back to her food, as if seeking something that wouldn’t judge her. “You know what? Don’t answer that. That’s just asking to get my feelings hurt.”
“No.”
Theora looked up at him quickly. “What?”
“No,” Argos repeated, a slight grin on his lips. “I don’t resent you anymore.”
Theora cleared her throat, but there was no getting rid of her blush. “I was thinking…why can’t we see each other after this is all over? I don’t see why we can’t be friends.”
Argos raised a brow and set his empty bowl of noodles aside, exchanging it for the rolls. “Friends?”
“Why not? We like each other, don’t we? And I doubt Boada would mind if I stole you from the barracks once in a while.”
He leaned his chin in his hand, his amber eyes shifting over her slowly. “You don’t want to be friends.”
“Why not?”
The longer Argos looked at her, the more Theora wanted to close the gap between them. The more she wanted his hands…
He grinned and turned back to his food. “I’m sure your husband wouldn’t approve.”
Theora made an unintentional sound of disgust. That was the last thing she wanted to discuss.
“You’re one of the few people who don’t work for me that I actually trust. He could get over it.”
“I don’t work for you?”
“We’re equals. It’s a partnership.” She hesitated, losing her nerve at his lack of enthusiasm for the idea. It was stupid, anyway, to suggest such a thing. “We’re in this together.”
“Are we?”
“Please don’t give me a hard time,” she said. “I’m really trying, Argos.”
“I know you are.” He held one of the vegetable rolls out to her, and she grinned before taking a bite of it from his hand. “You’ve napped, you’ve eaten. I’d say you’re ready to get these negotiations underway.”
Theora took a moment to finish chewing, uncertain if it was his words or too much food messing with her stomach. “How do you know Pyre will cooperate?”
“Because this was her idea, Theora. She wants peace as much as we do.”
“Argos.” Theora sighed. “I’m still jumpy from the attempt on my life that happened only this morning. I’m not meeting with the ruler of the colony we’ve been at war with for an entire year with just you, me, and the hope that she’ll be true to her word.”
She got up from her stool, tipping the old woman generously. She frowned at Argos. “I know you’re not growling at me right now, Argos.”
“Do you not trust me to protect you?” he said, arms crossed.
“Of course I do.”
“Then trust me now.”
Theora took a deep breath. Argos was used to being in constant danger, to tearing that danger to pieces without fear.
The only time Theora had ever been in danger was a year ago…
and he was asking her to meet with the queen who had put her there.
No armor. No weapons but her bodyguard. And now…
no third party to keep the enemy accountable.
But she was sure there would be a note from Venita. Perhaps if she humored him by saying yes, he’d stop giving her a hard time about it.
“Fine. Fine. We’ll go. After—” She held up her finger to stave off any interruptions. “After we make sure there are no updates from the judge or Venita, and I’ve had a chance to change into something more sensible.”
Argos sighed. “That seems fair.”
“And I want to find out why Boada lied to me about my magic, first. She must have known I possessed your—what was it?—siren song before setting us up together.”
“She was obviously trying to protect your position as queen. And handlers aren’t supposed to have family, right?”
“Family?”
Argos raised his brows, as if his meaning should’ve been blatantly obvious. “Theora. Come on.”
Theora gaped, then quickly grabbed a hold of her husband’s shirt. “Let’s get back to the room.”