Reign and Rivers

ix. Danger In The Woods

Lysandra's brain snapped into focus as Prince Iyan led his horse closer and closer. Deciding in a second what needed to be done, Lysandra turned to face Sir Agoras and his company.

"It was certainly nice doing business with you, Cleon," Lysandra declared, knowing exactly what her addressing the jeweller who'd reassured everyone that the tiara was the original one would come across as.

Even Jana froze next to her, as understanding dawned on the faces of those across them. Cleon, the jeweller, choked on his own breath as Sir Agoras turned to him.

"The stémma is a copy?" Sir Agoras whispered, his face turning as red as his hair at the same moment Lysandra threw up an arm, and a bag went flying through the air. Everyone, including Prince Iyan and his small troupe that was more than a few feet away, watched as it landed right at the hooves of the horse he was sitting atop.

"My pesh, you bitch!" Sir Agoras bellowed, Prince Iyan's eyes going wide as he understood what was about to happen.

Lysandra had just declared for all the world that the stémma was not the original piece, and Prince Iyan was with her. There was no way Sir Agoras would take this lightly.

Lysandra only had to nod once at Jana, for the other girl to follow behind as Lysandra led her horse out of the clearing at a gallop, the sound of swords unsheathing and the yells of several angry men was left behind.

The picture of the starry, night sky was tainted by the rising smoke in the distance. Lysandra concluded that the Prince had probably left the task of putting out the fire and saving those people to someone else, choosing instead to tail her.

Lysandra snorted. That isn't serving him very well now, is it?

The last thing Lysandra had seen while escapi— making her strategic retreat, was Sir Agoras charging at Prince Iyan like an angry bull. Oh, she would pray to all the rivers in the world to make sure her dear husband suffered a severe blow to the head.

The harsh wind tore at her face as a small laugh coaxed itself out of her. Jana, on the horse next to her, was busy using words that would put a sailor's vocabulary to shame. 

This, Lysandra's mind told her, this will teach the idiot to stop following danger into the woods. 

~~~

Prince Iyan half rode on a wave of fury and half on the horse. The only sound of hooves hitting the ground was coming from his horse, which meant he'd left Marcello and the others behind, the bag, the evidence, clutched tightly in one hand. 

Oh, how he would sing with joy, when this was all over and his dear wife was prosecuted as a criminal and had to live the rest of her life in prison.

Right now, though, his blood sang a different tune. That woman had left him to deal with that angry bastardo. It was a good thing Iyan had been spoiling for a fight, because battling that bull of a man with logic had turned out to be impossible. Especially, after he had refused to return the bag of exchange, the only bit of proof that would allow him to reveal his wife for the demon she was, rather than the revered princess she paraded herself around to be.

What did he care if this middle-aged man had been foolish enough to be duped by the princess?

Oh, no, all his raging being cared about was revenge, especially after he'd had to race across the town and the forest, not once but twice.

First, because his men had reported a fire in the little town, and he'd gone along to make sure the citizens were unharmed. Then, when he realized that this could've been a trap, leaving Darius in charge of the chaos in the town, he'd once again pushed his stallion to it's limits to meet with Marc who had seen two horses go north.