Try (unsuccessfully) to leave

Note: Most of this thread was written by Starwarrior, the edits made are primarily for the sake of continuity

The crush of all these male bodies is becoming overwhelming and with a polite bow you excuse yourself and head for the open doors of the pavilion. Perhaps if you hadn't become aware of the eyes following you like wolves eying a crippled goat, you might have tried to stay and do your queenly duties, but once you knew what to look for, you could sense the hunger in just about every man's eyes as they watched you. It seems, much like it had back in Deni, that bedding an Amazon queen was high on the wish list for many men, especially if this queen was young, fit and burned with the passion of her people. When your well-meaning ambassador deliberately added fuel to the fire by stressing that you were as pure as morning dew, you became the number-one prize for every prince and War Captain in the United Armies. For a courtier looking to enhance his reputation as a breeding stallion it was a no-lose proposition, bang a virgin princess and instead of being burdened with a wife and child you send the now gravid mare back to drop her filly somewhere far from where you are hunting for your next conquest.

Almost as if the thought conjured the very embodiment of this distasteful rake, your escape is blocked by 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 immediately. Just the very way the man presents himself reeks of arrogance, from the way he stands in your path to how he gazes 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 out his chest 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 sneer on his thin lips, “I am 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.” You raise your voice so everyone in the command tent can hear clearly. “Accor has an heir, my sister Kriti, and as for a King, I can only assume that you've lived in a cave for most of your life. Accor has neither the need nor desire for a king.”

Iasos smirks knowingly, “Ah, but you see, your Majesty, I happen know a great deal about your people. That curse sounds like it such a burden, only being allowed to carry daughters, and constantly being in heat.” This is the last man you would expect to know the secret deleterious effects of Ares' curse, and his confidence in his ability to make you give in to him makes you wish it were just about any other man but him.

“It can be,” you eply through gritted teeth as you glare 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 ties to reach you before something bad happens. 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 is about to happen but by now all attention in the command pavilion is once again directed at you and it is next to impossible for them to get any closer.

“Perhaps it would be best for you if the curse was broken,” the prince continues. “From what I hear, it can be lifted if you are brought to a passionate surrender by a man's hard flesh.” The noblemen and women in the tent watching the interaction between you squirm uncomfortably with Iasos' crude delivery. “As an innocent 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 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 groin and you have to resist the urge to knee 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 two dozen powerful representatives of the Hellenic city states. “In case you haven't heard prince of Thebes, 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, amusement and sympathy, are now shocked and fearful. Your voice has risen with every word and it seems like everyone in the tent had heard your earlier tirade with King Thanos. The only ones who don’t seem fazed by your response are your guards, while appearing calm on the outside they are no doubt preparing to restrain you, and Iasos, who is foolishly not backing down.

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

Iasos looks at you with that overconfident 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 at him for a long while; the room completely silent. Everyone is holding their breath to see how you will respond to this claim of masculine superiority. Finally, with a cold smile you make up your mind. You tried to be diplomatic, but there is more than one way to make an impression, and you decide to go with your strengths rather than petend you are something other than a warrior at heart.

“Very well,” you sigh 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 full lips, long arms 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 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.” To you, it sounds like Prince Iasos has prepared that line well in advance but he continues as if the double entendre is completely spontaneous, “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 force for your forehead to knock the prince out cold. The crowd cheers and claps as the Iasos falls flat on his back with a large bruise forming on his brow. “Remove this piece of shit from my sight,” you tell the prince's entourage.

The sudden movement as his courtiers pull him to his feet is enough to wake him but he is still too dazed to know what is happening. As his men half walk, half drag the prince to a corner of the great pavillion 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 stunned spectators. “I apologize for disturbing your planning, I am in a foul mood and I do not wish to spoil the atmosphere in here with my fuming.”

With that Ceno is finally able to make it to your side. As he adjusts your cape, he leans in close to your ear and whispers:

“We need to talk.”