Consequentially

We woke early and ate a quick breakfast. Even before the events of yesterday, the plan had always been to spend as little time at each stop as possible. Vris had gone out and restocked our supplies with no trouble and we were soon reunited with our elk and on the trail out of Bhojin. The lingering feeling from last night had dimmed, but was still there, like silt at the bottom of a river.

The city was just beginning to stir, the streets mostly empty. There was enough space for us to ride beside one another.

“I meant to ask yesterday, but do either of you know that Cyril guy?” I didn’t enjoy the scolding Mizuki gave me, so I avoided the topic as much as possible until now.

“I know the name, but I’ve never met him,” Vris said. “He’s the son of a prominent minister in Jehra. Rhegard is his family name. I only know as much because his father is constantly asking for permission to visit the palace.”

“Is he that bad a guest?” I asked.

“My father would rather die than host him,” Mizuki said darkly. “Believe me, the son is much like the father.”

“You’ve met them before?” That would explain the dirty looks she gave him. Anyone who’d exchanged two words with the man would hate to see him coming.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes. I’m a bit surprised he didn’t recognize me, though it has been about twelve years since we’ve crossed paths. There was a feast held in Bhojin to celebrate the birth of Akiko and Kaede, where I was introduced to them. Even then, he was arrogant. I didn’t want to risk revealing us even further, so I stayed quiet.”

“Does he live here?”

“Not as far as I know. Running into him was just bad luck, I suppose.”

I squinted up at the sky. Was this the gods idea of a joke? Or was this simply a coincidence?

We arrived at the eastern gate and were permitted to leave. As quickly as we’d arrived, we’d left Bhojin behind. The trees remained smaller, and most of them were coniferous. A gentle but constant wind blew at our backs, bringing the scent of Bhojin to us long after it disappeared. Having been cooped up for over a month, I could understand Vris’s excitement at seeing a new place. A small part of me regretted not being able to explore a bit, to see what sort of art and techniques were in use. The much larger and more bitter part of me felt that enjoying any of this ran counter to my objective of punishing the gods. I rubbed my eyes.

“Where will we end up today?” I asked Mizuki, hoping to distract myself.

“If we’re fortunate, we’ll make it to Wendarl,” Mizuki said. “It’s a small village, mostly there to cater to the travelers going to and from Bhojin. We’ll have to cross the Amaranthine as well.”

“That’s the region’s main river,” Vris added.

Mizuki pulled Spark to a halt. Vris and I quickly followed suit. The princess stared into the surrounding forest. With the elk motionless, a hush fell over the road. The distant snap of a twig made Rowan’s ears perk up.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

Mizuki didn’t answer me. Instead, she raised her voice and addressed the forest. “We know you’re out there. There’s no point in hiding. Come out and face us.”

There was a pause, and for a moment it felt as if Mizuki was wrong. Then a group of people melted out of the shadows beneath the trees. Some were on horseback, some not. Their faces were unfamiliar, a mix of men and women, tall and short.

“You have good ears,” an all too familiar voice said. Cyril emerged from behind a tree and shot Mizuki a grin. “I’m impressed.”

Damnit. It would appear we’d be dealing with the consequences of my actions after all.

“What do you want, Cyril?” I asked, cutting to the chase. My guess was, based on all the friends he brought, his plan was to rob us or beat us up. I didn’t think he’d kill us, but I wouldn’t remove that as a possibility. Much as I would like to avoid all of those things, this issue was now on our doorstep and it had to be dealt with.

“My lady,” Vris whispered, a worried warning.

His grin slid off his face as his gaze snapped to me. “I think a lesson in manners is in order after your behaviour yesterday. Interrupting an aristocrat is the height of impropriety. After all, how can a peasant learn anything if they aren’t taught?”

I wanted to punch him in the mouth. Instead, I sucked in a breath and said, “My apologies for interrupting you.”

He folded his arms. “Oh ho, had a change of heart now?”

Absolutely not. This just wasn’t worth getting assaulted over. “I said I was sorry. I have learned my lesson and will not bother any aristocrat I come across going forward.”

He cocked his head. “Now you see, I’m not sure you mean that.”

That’s because I didn’t and I wasn’t a good enough actress to make anyone believe otherwise. I did a quick head count. He brought six other people, including himself. Seven on three didn’t inspire me with confidence, especially since I had no idea how to fight. It didn’t help that, while we’d been talking, a few had gone behind us and the others in front. We were surrounded on all sides.

“You paid a fine,” I pointed out, changing tact. “That means you, legally, were in the wrong.”

He batted my words away. “The rules and regulations may outwardly appear to apply to all, but in reality, men of my calibre are held to a different standard. I was simply trying to keep the peace.”

Not a drop of remorse to be found. Our trump card was revealing who we were and what we were doing here, but there was a chance he wouldn’t believe us. Or worse, he wouldn’t care and enact his revenge anyway and we would have shown ourselves for nothing. I had one last idea, a thought that had come to me based on his own words. Cyril’s crew was slowly drawing nearer to us.

“Wait,” I said, holding up my hand. “I have a proposition.”

“And what might that be?” Cyril asked, all smiles again.

“I challenge you to an art competition.”

He burst out laughing, the sound so loud nearby birds took flight. Some of his cronies found this funny too.

“An art competition? Really?” he said, incredulous. “Did you not hear a word I said yesterday? You think you can beat a man blessed by the gods?”

Probably not. But it would restore his ego enough that he might let us go. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Why not? Are you afraid you’ll lose?” I said, using the classic line to trap all overly confident people.

He frowned at me, a petulant look in his eyes. “And what do I get if I win?”

“You get to humiliate me as punishment for wrecking your evening,” I said. “And if I win, you leave us alone and don’t bother us any further. Agreed?”

He stared at me so long, I thought he wasn’t going to do it.

Then his face split into an eerily wide grin. “I accept your challenge, peasant.”