Chapter 27
Theora
Pyre’s handmaidens didn’t seem shocked to see her and Argos. Pyre, who was wearing a casual ensemble of shorts and a tank top, sweaty from some sort of workout, didn’t seem alarmed either.
Theora, however, was beyond alarmed. Pyre had a massive wound across her face, red and raw-looking. It had been closed by some sort of adhesive rather than an actual bandage.
Argos, she thought, what have you done?
She looked up at him, willing him to give her answers, but Pyre interrupted her thoughts with “Bring him in here.”
And suddenly Theora felt as if the walls were going to close in. Never mind what Argos had told her…It was a Vespulan stinger that had injured her that day, that had torn through Leveya. They were still the enemy, even if—and this was a massive if—they’d had nothing to do with that ringblitz.
Still, she had to be brave for Argos—she wasn’t sure how he could ever protect her in his current state. And if he thought Pyre was their safest option, well…she trusted him with her life.
Theora prompted Argos to sit on the bed, standing between his legs. He leaned his forehead against her stomach, a gesture that filled her with so much emotion she wanted to cry. She held his head in both hands, running her fingers through his hair.
“Cease,” she whispered as he growled. “Save your energy.”
Pyre put on gloves, opening a case that contained some sort of glowing gold serum.
“What is it?” Argos demanded.
“You know me better than that, Argos.” Pyre filled a syringe. “You need more than a cup of tea to encourage healing for an injury of this magnitude.”
“Encourage healing.” In Vespula that meant something different than it did anywhere else. It meant…abnormal regeneration. It was a disturbing thought, that the woman who’d ordered the attack that had killed her friend was about to inject her husband with some unknown substance.
But Argos said, “I’ll still take the tea,” and Theora watched in disbelief as he let the enemy inject him with the golden substance.
“Jae,” said the queen, “tea, please.”
Pyre put on a pair of magnifying lenses, placed a bright light nearby, and immediately set to tweezing the shrapnel from his arm herself.
Theora watched, stroking her husband’s hair. Pyre was far more imposing without a table between them, even if she was so casually dressed. Perhaps because, without the clothing, Theora could see all her defined muscles…muscles that seemed built for killing.
But then, that’s what she’d first thought about Argos, too.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Theora said.
“Yes, yes,” said Pyre, pulling out a bloody piece of sharp metal and setting it on the white towel beside her. “Argos was in denial as well. Tell me when you’re through that stage so we can talk business.”
“I’m not in denial,” Theora said coldly. “I’m not wrong in thinking that you assassinated my queen and threw us into a yearlong war.”
“Argos.” Pyre sighed. “I thought I told you to deliver the message.”
Argos grunted drowsily. He felt heavy now, leaning against her. Whatever Pyre had injected was clearly taking effect.
“Your tea, Exalted One,” said the handmaiden, holding the tray out to them.
Theora rolled her eyes at the overinflated title.
“It was your explosives,” Theora said, impatient, her rage simmering. “Your soldiers that killed her.”
“I understand the crimes my colony committed,” Pyre said, matching Theora’s tone. “But it was I who threw up the white flag and asked for peace.” She removed another bloody shard. “So let’s just focus on the present, shall we? Do you want to negotiate peace with me or not?”
“That depends—”
“Ask if she knows about Venita,” Argos mumbled, barely conscious.
“So we both have traitors on the inside. Perfect.” Pyre let out a breath of laughter. “If she planned anything, it was with Kenzi. Now that you mention it, Venita might just be the foreign contact she was going to meet with the night before the peace talks.”
“ ‘Might’ is not a lot of confidence to go on to prosecute my trusted advisor,” Theora said.
“If Venita wanted me dead, there were ample opportunities to make it look like a war accident—” Theora paused.
Sentinels and plagues. There had been ample opportunities during the war.
But during the war, Venita’s aim had always been to have Theora and Apollo marry.
And then Theora had shown up to the peace talks with a husband.
But that still didn’t explain Apollo…He was her best friend. He wanted her to be with Argos.
Pyre put her tweezers down. “Your silence tells me you figured it out.” She stood and took Argos’s shoulders, and Theora had an urge to bat the woman’s hands away. She felt an overwhelming mix of feelings in her gut…concern, fear…love.
All for Argos.
“I can take care of him,” Theora insisted.
Pyre raised her brows. “Do you know how to move a man of his size with proper body mechanics?” she said, and the look she gave her reminded Theora of being chastised by Boada. “Let’s be rational here.”
It was only last week that she would probably have yelled at Pyre for saying something like that—yelled at anyone for questioning her. But there was something about the way Pyre said it that made Theora want to laugh.
She stepped aside, allowing Pyre to shift him, laying him back against a set of pillows. Meanwhile, Theora pulled Apollo’s letter from her waistband and unfolded it, looking for signs that her best friend was in fact not a traitor.
That her entire life hadn’t been a lie.
The message was the same, the handwriting still his. But…the lighting was different. Theora paused, then moved the letter closer to the bright light Pyre had used. And suddenly she saw it.
Words. Vague words written within and around the ink.
Venita is guilty.
Theora gasped. This entire time, Apollo had been trying to warn her. She knew Argos had been wrong about him, that Apollo would never hurt her.
But she hadn’t realized Venita was capable of hurting her, either—not when she’d practically been an older sister to her.
Hurting her? Was she behind the attack that killed her own sister? She had definitely almost had Theora assassinated in one of the most awful ways possible.
She had to be stopped.
Theora turned to Pyre, who was busy changing out of her sweaty clothes into new loungewear. She looked away quickly with a heavy sigh. Dread Sovereign, this woman might as well be a Warrior, the way she just minded her business in front of people, naked and unashamed.
“Do you want to negotiate now?” Theora asked. “Or can we just agree to peace?”
By the time Theora looked at Pyre, the Vespulan queen had opened the closest desk drawer, and was taking out a pad of paper and a pen. “There are a few things I could use.”
“Fine, then.” Theora steeled herself, her stoicism returning. “Let’s negotiate.”
Pyre led the way out into the living room area. This room was larger than the one in Theora’s wing, with two long couches facing a coffee table. Theora made sure to sit on the opposite couch from Pyre.
“I suppose we’ll need witnesses,” Theora began.
“Only for the signing portion.” Pyre signaled to one of her maids, handing the woman the writing pad when she approached. “You’re welcome to begin.”
“Your guard patrols are not allowed on our border.”
Pyre let out a breath of laughter. “Is this how we’re starting off ? Locking up our borders?”
Theora tried not to show her hesitation. “You said yourself there are traitors in your ranks.”
“And in yours, clearly. So what do you say we help each other out with that?”
Pyre leaned forward, resting her powerful forearms on her thighs—forearms that were lacking the shackles meant to keep her stingers safely away. Wrists that exposed the small slit where the stingers extended. Theora took a breath to keep herself from panicking.
Pyre wouldn’t hurt her. She was here for peace.
Venita was the real enemy.
“What do you have in mind?” Theora asked.
“I’d like your help in the form of Warriors, plus spies and ambassadors to help sniff out the loyalists.”
“Warriors require handlers.”
“So get more.”
Theora paused. An unsavory proposition, but unsurprising for a woman who had assassinated the queen before her to take the throne, even if said queen had been a villain. “And how does that benefit Aranea?”
“They would be paid by the government. And the ambassadors would help bolster relations between our people.”
“Then you would send ambassadors to Aranea as well?”
“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.”