Page 95 of Consort's Glory
Theodore’s voice, low and almost unintelligible, lilted upward in a question before dropping with what she assumed was a goodbye. There was a moment of silence, but she didn’t need to hear his feet on the floor to sense him moving closer. The awareness of him was just there, baked into the bond keeping her alive and healthy, as well as the part of her that purred whenever he was near.
Familiar arms came down around her, dipping the mattress as they took Theodore’s considerable weight. The sense that something was blocking the soft light of the morning followed. Body heat radiated over her as a pair of soft, plush lips skimmed the side of her neck. A low purr made her stomach flutter.
“Good morning, darling.”
Margot curled into him as best she could. Gripping the front of his shirt with gentle fingers, she turned to nuzzle her nose against his throat.
“Ow!” Margot recoiled, her eyes opening to squint at the starchy thing barring her from him. The bridge of her nose smarted from the glancing blow against his offensive clothing. Theodore’s collar looked like it was made of regular, if very stiff fabric, but when she bumped up against it, Margot discovered it was bafflingly rigid. “Why are you wearing that? And what’s it made of, anyway? Steel?”
Theodore snickered. “It’s reinforced with a proprietary blend of armored fabric.”
She hooked her finger under the edge of the high collar and gave it a tiny tug. “Why are you wearing it? Doesn’t it suffocate you?”
The idea that he might be uncomfortable stuck in her craw. Margot frowned at the offending article, a feral sort of protectiveness prickling under her skin. She would certainly hate wearing something like that. The idea of him feeling strangled, even mildly uncomfortable, made her want to throw the damn thing away.
“I’m used to it,” he soothed, petting her mussed hair out of her face. When she glanced up, Margot found him grinning that big, boyish smile that made her insides melt. “It’s traditional to cover the throat. Most people don’t go to this length — they just wear scarves or ties or whatever they want — but I’m the sovereign, so I have to take extra precautions.”
Her brows furrowed. “Extra precautions?”
Theodore’s smile dimmed. In a voice she was coming to recognize as his soothing tone, he explained, “Someone will always want my seat, darling. I’ve already met six challenges since Delilah abdicated. And those were just the public ones. I’ll always need to take extra care with my safety.”
Margot stared at him blankly for a long moment. When what he wasn’t saying finally dawned on her, she made an appalled sound in the back of her throat and cried, “You wear that so no one can slit your throat?”
“Shh,” he soothed, gathering her up into a sitting position so he could run his palm up and down her bare back. “Don’t worry about it, darling. No one’s ever come close. I haven’t worked all my life to get here, only to have some upstart claw me when I’m not looking.”
Margot clutched at his shoulders, her heart pounding in her ears. I could lose him.
The thought, clear and sharp, was a blade cutting through her contentment. It never occurred to her to be afraid for him, but now that the thought was there, now that she could look at his collar and know the threat it represented, Margot found herself dizzy with the fear of his loss.
Losing a bondmate wouldn’t kill her. She would have to find another one, but it wouldn’t necessarily be a death sentence.
But losing Theodore, who made her feel safe for the first time in her life, who looked at her like she was the whole world, the man she wanted to wake up and see every day for the rest of her life, would shatter her.
Someone could take him from me, she thought, breathing hard. I could lose him. I just found him and I could lose him.
You will not lose me.Theodore’s inner voice was hard-edged, steely in its certainty. My love, I have trained all my life for this. No one will take me from you except Grim herself.
But what if marrying me— what if doing this thing, breaking all these rules, puts you in more danger?Cold sweat dotted her hairline as she buried her face in his shoulder. Would it be safer for you to not acknowledge me? We could—
Abso-fucking-lutely not.Theodore’s arms were a cage around her, his muscles suddenly rigid. I don’t care if it paints a massive target on my back, Margot. I’m marrying you. I’m telling everyone you’re my consort. I am not ever, ever hiding you. I’ll face every challenge, every threat, as I always have: with my own claws.
Margot pulled her head back to stare at him, horrified. “Theodore… you have allies, right? Amongst the five families? People who will back you in this decision of yours. Right?”
Of course he would have allies. He was Sovereign. He knew politics better than even she did. That wasn’t to say she was some expert, of course, but being attached to Sophie’s hip for most of her life made her no novice.
Organizing the Covens in the Collective was a massive political endeavor. Managing the Goode Coven, with its wide net of business interests and sprawling family structure, was a feat. Doing that many times over, with the ten Covens in the Collective? An astonishing testament to Sophie’s skill.
Margot witnessed firsthand the necessity of having one’s ducks all in a row before throwing yourself into something. She watched good and bad resolutions die swift, brutal deaths in the meeting chamber of the Collective headquarters due to a lack of assured allies and support.
Surely Theodore, who had this planned for so long, would have his sworn allies, his confidants who would back him when the time came. Surely…
Theodore’s jaw set at a stubborn, almost mutinous angle that made all the blood rush from her head in a dizzying wave. “They’ll accept it,” he ground out, giving her the answer she dreaded. “I don’t care how many challenges I have to face. They’ll accept it or they’ll die — one way or another.”
