Reign and Rivers

viii. Red-handed

Princess Lysandra, a newly wedded wife, was feeling quite vexed, thank you very much for asking.  

They had been travelling for a little over two weeks, settling down for the night just outside a small village. Tomorrow morning, they would resume their journey. 

Lysandra had just finished writing a letter to some very important acquaintances of hers in Tibur, when she decided that a visit to the river nearby was needed. Stuffing the complete letter into a chest of her underclothes, she poked her head out of her tent. 

It was rather late, and everyone was asleep. Lysandra was grateful that she didn't have to share a tent with Prince Iyan. (Apparently, it would be unseemly for the two of them to sleep in the same tent until the remaining ceremonies in Tibur were completed.)

Lysandra controlled the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't as if they were going to start with the baby-making process the second they were left alone. 

Even imagining it made her shiver with disgust. 

So, yes, she was grateful.   

Jana will be back any moment now, she thought as she checked for the guards positioned around the tents.

Once she was satisfied that she could get away undetected, she proceeded towards the river. She could hear the river burbling from here. It had to be close.

Casting one last look behind her, she parted the bushes to see the river. The leaves rustled as the wind made the trees sway.

The river in front of her was maybe the smallest in Thessalia, flowing south in an unusually lazy pace to join a bigger one. It wasn't large in width either, but it was enough for the people of the little town. 

It was called Cortaine. And it was beautiful.

The river was the only bright thing in the dark night. Something in the water glowed blue, the tiny fishes getting along their merry way. Most people envied the creatures that could live inside the rivers, calling them blessed ones.

Approaching the river softly, Lysandra lowered herself to the ground. Taking the gloves off of one hand, she dipped it into the water. As soon as her hand touched the water, electric-blue eyes closed of their volition, and her thoughts were calm at once.

If Lysandra was a traveller, then the rivers were her home. No matter how far she went, she'd always return to them.

Her lips lifted into a bittersweet smile as the bushes rustled again. 

Even while praying, she was not alone. 

"I'm simply praying, Prince. You need not suspect my faith just yet," She announced.

The bushes rustled again. 

"I suspect everything about you, Princess," Prince Iyan declared, stepping just beside a twig. There was a tinge of frustration in his tone. Lysandra knew that the Commander in him must be upset that some untrained princess had heard him coming. But Lysandra was far from untrained, and he probably knew that. She wondered what was the point in being upset after all.

Men.

Lysandra opened her eyes, staring at him from the corner of her eyes. "Knowing the kind of person you are, I do not blame you."

Prince Iyan leaned against a tree beside her. At her words, he frowned, folding his hands against  a well-built chest. "What is that supposed to mean?"

 "Well," Lysandra gave a vague shrug that she knew would irritate him further. "You know."

"No, I don't," his frown deepened, a rebellious curl coming to rest on his forehead.