Loving the Forbidden Prince

AYLETH

Ayleth slid herself smoothly between Etan and Sarya, turning her back to the horrific woman and forcing her husband to meet her gaze. Behind her there was a scuffle—likely Borsche or Falek pulling her away so she wasn't a threat. But Ayleth trusted them to handle the woman who had never trained as a warrior.

Her husband, however…

Rage simmered in her chest, also, but she understood women and how they worked far better than Etan, apparently. This wasn't the time for violence. 

With a warning in her eyes, she put one hand to his chest, the other to his face, refusing to be budged when he tried to push her aside. She said his name multiple times until his eyes finally snapped down to meet hers.

"Do not give her the satisfaction. If you assault her, she will only use it against you."

Etan's face was pinched and pale, his eyes flaming with rage. But he heard her. He nodded tightly.

When Ayleth was certain he wouldn't rush the woman, she turned and kept him behind her as she addressed the Lady Playne. 

"You revealed our relationship to my mother?" she asked casually.

Sarya's lower jaw jutted forward. "I thought, at first, that it was a… a tryst. An affaire. I thought you did not hold feelings towards him, but that you manipulated him as your mother does to others."

"And yet, you did not warn him against me? Did not reveal your knowledge to him? You call him a liar and a thief, you claim noble intentions, yet you lie and hide behind my mother?"

"I don't have to answer any accusation from you, you witch!"

"Speak to my wife that way again and I will slit your throat!"

Ayleth had to turn, to catch Etan as he tried to press forward again in the same moment Falek grunted and stepped forward as well. But Ayleth stopped her Knight Defender with a glance. Borsche was glaring at the woman, too, but wisely kept his mouth shut. 

When she was certain both men wouldn't interfere, Ayleth looked back at Sarya, surprised by how her innards had flinched at the false accusation. Her hands clenched into fists, but she did her best to keep them at her sides. 

"I am no more a witch than you are. But that is of no matter. You were not invited into our lives—you inserted yourself in an attempt to make my husband your own. You are the Judas here."

Sarya was pale, blinking quickly. Had she not known about their marriage? 

Before she could ask, Sarya hissed, "I'll wager he wasn't your husband when I found him in the garden. Did he tell you that? How many times we have been in the dark together?"

Ayleth's stomach clenched, but she reminded herself who she was talking to. 

The woman who'd almost gotten Etan killed. The woman who had ratted them out to her mother. The woman who would take him from Ayleth if she could.

The woman now trying to seed division between them. 

Her rage bubbled from a simmer to a boil. She stepped forward until she was almost nose to nose with Sarya who was slightly taller, but more willowy. She grabbed the woman's shoulder and whipped her around, tugging the ties loose that kept her arms pinned at her back. Then snapped her back around as Sarya shook out her arms and watched her warily. 

She hadn't expected to be freed.

"Do not let it be said that I am a coward who would face you only in restraints," Ayleth said through her teeth. "Now, let me be certain: You learned of Etan's and my attachment to each other, and you went to my mother and told her? Before the time of reflection?"

Sarya's jaw flexed, but she nodded, rubbing her wrists. "She had already asked me to be watching for any… liaisons. I simply told her what I found."

"And yet, you call yourself his friend?" Ayleth pursed her lips biting back the curse she wanted to spit at this traitorous spider. 

"His friend, not yours!" Sarya snapped. "He deserves better than you! I have heard nothing but stories of your… flirtations from the first day we arrived!"

Ayleth's head snapped back as if she'd been slapped. "My… what?"

"The very first night you were in a clinch with Lord Roarke and Etan—in the same night!" Sarya hissed. Ayleth froze. "You continued your titillation with Etan, yet pulled Trystan of Andeluve into your web as well—not to mention the countless Lords you tried to entice while dancing, or at the feasts. We could all see it! And yet you kept your claws in Etan—turned his head so he would see no other, while you cheated and flirted behind his back—"

Ayleth's hand whipped out, the open-handed slap ringing through the still night air. The men all tensed, waiting to see, Etan's hand appearing on Ayleth's upper arm. 

"Love, don't. She isn't worth it."

Sarya stared at her, wide-eyed.

Ayleth leaned in again. "If you ever spew lies like that about me again, if you ever try to divide my husband and I again, will show you all the things I have learned in secret. Do not mistake my integrity for weakness. These men cannot lay a violent hand on you. I have no such restrictions. And I'll wager I know better than you how to use my nails and teeth." 

Sarya sucked in a breath. "Savage!" she hissed. "Witch! What is next? Will you cast a spell on him so he'll remain enamored of you? Do you hold him in a sorcerer's grip? No wonder he refused me—you've bewitched him so he only seeks your body, no other!"

Something inside Ayleth snapped. With her teeth bared and a roar of rage, she threw herself Sarya.

Lady Playn grunted when the heel of Ayleth's hand snapped into her sternum—not even full strength. Ayleth had lost her temper, not her mind. She knew Sarya had brothers and was a strong and adventurous woman.

She also knew Sarya had never trained in fighting. 

Ayleth would kill her if she wasn't careful. So she was careful, but she stopped holding back.

Ignoring Etan's hushed cautions, Ayleth stepped into Sarya, hooked her ankle, and toppled her backward to the dirt.