In the Veins of the Drowning(70)

He shuffled toward her and kissed her on the cheek before pouring himself a cup of tea. “Did you hear, Theo? About the attack on Ammos?”

Theodore tensed. “What?”

“I was talking to the baker’s son traveling the road there.” Hector looked to me. “Ammos is just an hour up the coast by foot, if you don’t know. Three ships sacked it. Lit it aflame. Two were unmarked. Mercenary ships, he said, but one was Serafi.”

I gasped around the fear that lodged in my throat. Theodore sat up, spilling his tepid tea onto the ottoman.

“When?” He stood so quickly, he swayed. I jumped up to steady him.

“Two nights past,” Hector said, jade eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe that was why you went to the Mage. Getting guidance.”

He shook his head. “No. I had no idea.” Theodore looked utterly adrift, his attention darting around the room helplessly. Finally, he strode toward the front door, closed it, and barred it with the wooden beam.

“What are you doing?” Antonia asked, a nervous hand at her chest.

“It’s not safe.” He moved to the window and began securing the shutters. “They’re looking for her.”

Hector and Antonia stared at me with twin looks of astonishment. “Who is?” asked Hector. “What do they want with the queen of Varya?”

I shook my head, my stomach all the way at my feet. “I’m not the queen of Varya.” I swiped at my brow at their growing confusion. “I mean, I am, but not by choice. His choice. He didn’t choose me to be queen, per se. I just—I don’t know what I am.”

Antonia crossed her arms and glared at me. “Are you married?”

“Yes,” Theodore and I answered at the same time.

He secured the next window. “She’s a Siren. We bound ourselves when I helped her escape from King Nemea’s fort where he’d been abusing her. I’ve been skirting a war with him for years. Taking her set it into motion.”

“Oh, Theo.” Hector shook his head. “Why’d you do it? Why not plan for something like this?”

Theodore stopped, shoulders perking in offense. “I did try to plan.” I felt a punch of shame for my lack of patience, for not accepting how he’d told me to wait when we’d been on Nemea’s mountain. He looked to me then, but I saw no prickling of conscience in his gaze, no regret in it. Only a tormented certainty. “But I couldn’t leave her—” He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. “She’s the daughter of the Great Goddess Ligea and King Nemea. She can kill the monster that hunts the Sirens.” He looked to Hector and Antonia and said quietly, “In truth, it did not matter who she was… I couldn’t bring myself to leave her behind.”

Warmth rose to my chest, my cheeks. He would give up his throne for you. Rohana had been right. He’d already done it.

Hector and Antonia gawked at me. She bobbed into a quick curtsy, to which I only opened my mouth like a stranded fish.

Renewed determination filled Theodore. He piled a plate with fruit and bread and eggs. He gave Hector and Antonia each a kiss on the cheek. “It’s likely those ships left and took all their men with them, but sleep with your sword at the ready regardless. With your door and windows barred. We’ll leave at first light.”

Antonia held up a finger. “You’re still too sick—”

He shook his head and gave her a smile. “Your broth healed me completely.”

She swatted at him, still concerned. “I’ll pack food for your journey,” she said, reluctantly. “And Hector will see that your horses are ready in the morning.”

My heart thundered. My terror was weighty, keeping my feet stuck to the spot.

Theodore started toward our shared bedchamber, hands full of food. He stopped at the threshold and looked toward me. Everything sat in his gaze—the heat and hurt of the moment we’d shared. The fear and uncertainty of the days to come. His voice left him like a lure, like he’d used my own power against me, if such a thing were possible. “Come to bed with me?”

The request all but turned my bones to water with how weak it made me. I gave Hector and Antonia a quiet Good night and followed.

Only a few candles were lit within the chamber. The small fire in the hearth was down to coals. Theodore set the food on the small desk in the corner. I closed the door, slid the lock. When I turned to cross into the room, Theodore was before me.

His attention bore down. The news of Nemea’s ships, the residual sickness from the Mage Seer, it all morphed into barbed words and piercing eyes. “Tell me again,” he said, gruffly. “Tell me again that you want to take that severing draught. That you want to move ahead through war and uncertainty without each other. Without the ability to heal yourself, without me there to help keep you safe.”

My lips parted. I wanted no such thing. I wanted to keep him. The thought of parting from him filled me with the worst sort of anguish. But I couldn’t bring myself to ruin him further. To watch his kingdom fall simply so I could have what I wanted. I had to make my own safety. And if my life was forfeit because I tried to go it alone, at least I wouldn’t take him with me.

In my silence, Theodore pressed toward me, making my back bump against the door. “If you truly think I just need to get you out of my system, that you are merely an itch that needs scratching, then let’s. Let’s spend the night seeing ourselves satisfied and then unbind so we can move on.”