Prince Iasos.

The man in question is a dark-haired prince dressed in ornate armor, that looks impractical for any kind of actual combat; he is perhaps ten years older than you and, for no reason you can name you dislike him. Just the very way the man presented himself reeks of arrogance, from the way he stands to how he gazes down at you like he already owns you. This is not a warrior looking to honor you in battle, or even a courtier hoping to win favor, this was a dog wanting to claim you as his bitch.

As the man pompously pushes his way through the crowd with an air of privilege oozing from him like oil from a press you curse your overprotective general for taking your sword. The nobleman doesn’t even bother to bow as he stands almost on top of you, instead he places one hand behind his back and used the other to scope up yours so he could draw the back of your hand towards his oiled lips.

“Good evening my Queen,” he starts with an almost wicked smile on his lips, “I’m I Prince Iasos of the Kingdom of Thebes. I come to you after hearing that your land is currently not only lacking an heir to the throne but a King as well.”

Just as he is about to kiss your hand you quickly tug it away. “Well, you heard wrong. Accor has an heir, my sister Kriti, and as for a King, I am going to assume that you missed the part of my story where the Amazons killed all of their men. Accor has neither the need nor desire for a king.”

Iasos just smirks, “Ah, but that curse sounds like it such a burden on your people, only being allowed to produce women, and constantly being in heat.”

“It can be,” you say through gritted teeth as you glare up at the man. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Ceno lightly hitting Rafail on the arm to grab his and Alex’s attention. He frantically motions for them to follow him as he knows what about to happen next. As Thea stated before, your temper is legendary, first in Accor, then in Deni, and before dusk tonight the world. The two men quickly catch on that something bad is about to happen and step back discretely into a nearby corner of the tent, though probably not before catching a glimpse of the bulging veins in your brow.

“Perhaps it would be best if the curse was broken,” the prince continues, “and from what I hear, it can be lifted if you are brought to a passionate surrender by a man's hard flesh.” Even after the erotic narrative you just recounted you can sense that many in the tent are uncomfortable with Iasos' crude delivery. “As a maid surrounded by other women, you couldn't know what you're missing, but I assure you that a real man such as myself could teach you what it feels like to be stretched by a cock.” Again a several of the assembled shake their heads at his choice of words, but Iasos seems to relish the effect of the coarse boast. “I expect I could break Ares' curse with one good hard thrust.” His hips move suggestively only a hand's length from your face and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the balls.

You inhale deeply before hissing, “Laoda, who the fuck is this again?”

“Prince Iasos, your highness,” Laoda replies now standing a great deal closer to your guards, “He is the third son of the King of Thebes although if the rumors are true, the royal blood might not flow through his heart.”

“I could have told you that,” you reply before turning back to Iasos who is clearly fuming at the snickering of the other elite. “First off, for the second time, Amazons don’t marry, we find a worthy mate and that’s it. Secondly, sticking me with your little member will not make me fall in love with you, you naïve child! Finally, If I was by some sick twist of fate to fall in love with you it wouldn’t cure my sisters let alone me.” You see the man's face darken as you heap scorn on his pompous ass, the problem with a prince like this one is that no one has ever called him out for his unrealistic bullshit. You can't imagine your mother or any of your tutors letting you act like this even in private, let alone before a half dozen of the next generation of rulers. “In case you didn’t catch on from the last part of my story, I have the blood of Aries coursing through my veins. I will never be cured because I literally am the fucking curse!”

By now the crowd had given you a decent amount of space. Looks that had been a mixture of curiosity, envy, and arousal, are now shocked and fearful. Your voice had risen with every word and it seemed like everyone in the camp had heard of you tirade with Thanos. The only ones that don’t seem fazed by your response are your guards, who while appearing calm on the outside are no doubt preparing to restrain you, and Iasos, who is foolishly not backing down.

“Just to humor you,” you say lowing your voice a little, “Why should the Amazons throw away their way of life and bow to you, bastard prince?”

Iasos looks at you with a confident smirk, as if he expects you to secretly know the truth of his answer. “Because my Queen, women should not be warriors, they should serve warriors, in our halls - and in our beds.”

You glare up at him for a long while; the room completely silent. Everyone is holding their breath to see how you would respond to this claim of masculine superiority. Finally, with a cold smile and rise slowly to your feet, your body that had not long ago been fighting off waves of sensual pleasure, is now tense with anger. Even without your sandals that had been slipped off sometime in the past few hours, you stand eye-to-eye with the man, easily tall enough to leer directly into his eyes.

“Very well,” you say softly but still with a great deal of strain in your voice, “You shall be the first man I test for the privilege of mating with me.”

Everyone is shocked to hear you are willing to honor him like this, well all but your guards who just glance at each other and Laoda who is softly praying to Aphrodite that you don’t do anything stupid.

Iasos smirks smugly, “I knew you would see reason eventually.” His eyes leave yours long enough to take in the sight of your lowcut breast-plate, bare shoulders and smooth thighs. “So what is this test.”

“Combat,” you reply, “We fight until one of us yields or one is unable to fight anymore. Afterword’s I will determine if you are even worth my time let alone my bed.”

“Excellent!” he replies quickly, apparently this is what he had hoped for from the beginning, “Oh, and don't worry your highness, I know that you are unaccustomed to sparring with men, I'll be gentle the first time.” Prince Iasos sounds like he prepared that line well in advance but he continues as if the double entendre was unintended, “When and where shall this duel take place?”

“Here. Now.” Suddenly, like a viper posing to strike, you rear your head back and swing it forward with enough **** to knock the prince out cold. The crowd cheers and claps as the prince falls flat on his back with a large bruise forming on his brow. “Remove this piece of shit from my sight,” you tell one of your guards.

She gives you a quick bow before walking over and picking up the prince by the back of his armor. The sudden movement is enough to wake him but he is still too dazed to know what is happening. As you watch your guard drag the prince through the silk curtain Laoda gracefully slides to your side with a big smile on her lips.

“Xira, you are amazing!” she exults, “That display will surely grab the attention of every war captain, merchant prince, and nobleman in the area!” Her slender arm slips around your back and her hips press against your thigh as she squeezes you. “That stunt will be on the lips of every bard and bartender for decades! By Aphrodite, I could kiss you!”

Though still steamed, you have to admit you certainly aren’t about to stop her and you squeeze her soft shoulders gently in response before turning your attention to your three suitors. “Boys, I am in a foul mood and I do not wish to spoil the atmosphere in here with my fuming.”

With that Ceno swiftly picks up your shoulder pads, reattaching them and your cape to your armor. As you hook the chainmail to the breastplate he is already gathering your hair back into a loose braid. If you didn’t know any better you would have sworn that Ceno was one of your male servants; he is not only eager to serve you, but surprisingly accomplished as well. As he adjusts your cape, he leans in close to your ear and whispers:

“We need to talk.”