Chapter 23
Theora
When Theora awoke from her nap, Argos was sitting on the dresser, weaving.
“Any news?” was all she could think to ask. It had been only a few hours, but Theora was still anxious. Perhaps the judge was simply arranging more security. Perhaps she’d gotten all the proof she needed and was currently prosecuting the Vespulans. Court dealings did tend to take time.
But what-ifs wouldn’t bring about peace. The Vespulans wanted her dead, and all she could do was sit here, useless.
Argos must have showered, because he smelled clean and wore different clothes. Still, he looked tired. Worn. As if he should’ve been the one to take a nap.
“I’ve got news, all right,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly excited about it.
“Do you?” Theora sat up quickly. “Tell me.”
“I don’t think you’re going to believe it.”
“Try me.”
“I spoke to Pyre.”
Theora stared at him. “You’re right, I don’t believe you.” She huffed, kicking the blanket from her so she could get up and get dressed. “I should be receiving immediate updates. Instead they keep me in the dark, like some child.”
“Forget the updates. Forget the judge. I can take you to Pyre right now, and you two can discuss peace without—”
“Alright, Argos, that’s not funny,” she snapped, her anxiety climbing until she had to take a moment to swallow back tears. “She tried to kill me. I don’t even want to think about being in the same room with that monster.”
Argos sighed and slid off the dresser. “I’m sorry, Theora,” he said, offering their salute. “Don’t cry.”
Theora didn’t realize she’d started to cry until Argos said so, wiping her cheek with his thumb.
She wanted to lean against that strong hand, soak in the warmth of his body.
Instead, she cleared her throat. “I need a few waking hours with the attempt on my life behind me before I can even consider such a wild suggestion.”
“That’s fair,” said Argos. “But let’s get you out of this bedroom.”
Theora dressed quickly and joined Argos in the living room. She walked to the bookcase and sighed, spotting a book she thought she’d enjoy on the very top shelf. Though she was considered tall by her peers, she was clearly not tall enough to conquer this bookcase.
“Argos, will you help me? I can’t reach this book.”
His warm body was behind her before she’d even finished her last sentence. “Which one?”
Theora swallowed, her pulse out of control. What had she asked for again? She needed to calm down before he smelled something on her, but his standing behind her like that made her long for a hidden corner in the lagoon, for his fingers to do to her what they had the other day—
“Um, the biography,” she said quickly. “With the blue spine.”
He reached up easily and took it down, holding it in front of her. She wanted to smack the book out of his hand and keep his arm there.
She closed her eyes briefly before accepting the book. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Get ahold of yourself, Theora.
Argos made a rather adorable sound of surprise. “No way,” he said, pulling a record from the shelf. “Haven’t heard this one yet.”
Theora grinned at his enthusiasm. “What is it?” She watched him walk over to the gramophone, violently missing his presence.
It’s a good thing, Theora. You can’t keep him, anyway. Let him go.
Besides, the poor man was just minding his business, and here she was trying to subliminally signal to him to pin her against this bookcase and stick his hand down her pants.
But every sexual urge was jolted out of her as the record began and she heard her own voice speaking from the gramophone.
“Oh, Sovereign,” she groaned. “Ugh, that’s so embarrassing. How did that even get in here?”
Argos shushed her, listening intently. After a moment he grinned. “Your professional speech pattern has evolved since then. How old were you?”
“Seventeen. I was acting as ambassador to an all-girls school abroad somewhere.” Theora cringed. “Sovereign, I sound like a baby. Turn it off.”
“I like it.” Argos crossed his legs beneath him on the couch and went back to his weaving. “Nothing beats your coronation speech, though.”
Theora hugged her ribs, the day in her mind as if she were currently living it. “I was so angry during that.”
“You were honest.”
“Yes,” she scoffed, “Venita lectured me about going off script after that one.”
“You were dealing with loss. It was something everyone could relate to…certainly something I could.” He paused in his task. “Sometimes it’s better to obey your instinct than to follow a plan.”
Theora gaped. His words felt…intimate. Vulnerable. And yet he continued to weave and listen, as if he hadn’t just stolen a piece of her heart away. She joined him on the couch, watching him thoughtfully. “Argos, are you teasing me?”
He raised a brow. “Not right now. You want me to?”
“No, I just—” Her heart felt like it was floating, and she couldn’t understand why. “You really listen to my speeches?”
“Is that strange?”
Theora suddenly felt emotional, placing her hand on her heart to keep it in.
She had just…never heard something so endearing in her life and didn’t want to say anything to ruin it.
You didn’t call a giant Warrior adorable.
Except Argos wasn’t just any Warrior…“Not at all. I’m flattered, honestly.
Do you really just listen to them for fun? ”
He shrugged. “I guess you could say that.”
“What would you call it?”
Argos blushed a little, and Theora could’ve kissed him, it was so sweet.
“Boada calls it a siren song,” he said, staring at the weaving in his hand. “I guess I’m particularly drawn to…your voice.”
Now Theora felt herself blushing. “My voice?”
“Put it this way—usually complainers make me want to tear out throats. But I could listen to you complain all day. Not only that, but listening to you complain is almost…” He looked thoroughly embarrassed now. Unsure. “Endearing.”
Theora raised a brow. “I don’t know how I should feel about that.”
“It doesn’t just compel my magic, is what I’m saying,” he went on quickly. “No matter how annoyingly adorable and helpless you behave, my mind just won’t perceive you as prey.”
He thinks I’m adorable, she thought, her heart skipping. “I do appreciate that.”
“Are you going to give me a hard time now?”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know.” He went back to his work quickly. “You don’t think it’s a bit sappy for a Warrior?”
“I think it’s…” Beautiful. She cleared her throat. “It makes your life easier, doesn’t it? To be so connected to the voice commanding you?” She paused, watching him for a moment. “Wait, what do you mean, my voice compels your magic?”
“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’?” Argos’s hands stilled as he stared at her. “How do you think you’ve been commanding me all this time?”
Theora suddenly felt foolish but couldn’t place why. “With the rope.”
“What rope?”
“What do you mean, ‘what rope’? The one I claimed you with. The one Boada put a charm on for me, so she could lend me some of her magic.”
She’d barely finished her explanation before Argos broke down into laughter.
“Stop laughing!” She snatched up a pillow to smack him, but it only made her want to laugh, too, and she was trying to maintain at least a little dignity. “What’s so funny?”
“You can’t lend people magic. You’re either born with it or you’re not.”
“Well, I wasn’t, if you must know.”
“Okay, let me ask you again, Theora—how do you think you’ve been commanding me all this time?”
Theora paused, lowering the pillow, her shock and realization making her trembling fingers drop it to the carpet. “I’ve been commanding you with…with my own magic?”
Argos was beginning to look a bit concerned. “You didn’t know you had Ampulexi magic?”
“Well, I-I…I’m Aranean.” She lowered herself to the couch again, feeling her legs threatening to give out. “My eyes are the mark of an Aranean royal. I should be able to weave, like you.”
Argos watched her carefully. “Are you about to have a crisis?”
“I thought I didn’t have magic my entire life, and now I find out that not only do I have magic, but it’s a completely impossible kind for an Aranean queen to have. So, yes, I’m about to have a crisis!”
Theora went straight for the phone, but her husband’s hand was immediately on top of hers, preventing her from lifting it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Calling Boada,” she said, her tone turning slightly annoyed when she couldn’t get Argos to move his hand. “She must have known about this—I mean, she sent me here thinking she had charmed a damn rope.”
“Okay, well—” Argos still looked like he wanted to laugh. “For privacy reasons, this might not be a topic to broach over the phone.”
Theora paused. “You’re right. My claim as queen will most definitely be jeopardized.”
“Why would it be? You have magic.”
“Yes, but it’s not Aranean magic.” Theora paced in a circle. “There’s no precedent for this.”
Argos put his weaving aside, calm as ever. “Let’s get out of here.”
“And go where, exactly?” Theora raised her brows. “I’m sure Venita will be here soon to let us know the outcome.”
“Forget Venita. We’ll deal with peace negotiations ourselves.” He grabbed a pair of sneakers. “But first, let’s get you something to eat.”
Theora grinned. Something about the way he said it made her finally feel like perhaps this could be a normal day with normal activities. “Where are we going?”
He raised a clever brow. “You leave that to me.”
Argos opened the attic door and escorted a skeptical Theora through it and into the dark tunnel. At the moment, there was really no telling how safe it was to travel, but it seemed deserted.
As soon as he shut away the light from their suite, Theora’s hands silently found him, holding on to his shirt, relief washing over her as he took her hand.
Soon they reached more traveled tunnels, lit and inviting. Argos picked the lock to the gate and led them both through. Thankfully, it didn’t take long before even Theora could smell and hear the life of the market.