The tension between them was heavy, the heat of the nearby fire doing little to warm the cold that hung in the air. Aszer's face shifted, his proud smirk faltering as he noticed the weight in Yrsa's gaze.
"Could there be a problem?" Aszer asked, his voice laced with unease, though he tried to mask it behind his usual arrogance.
Yrsa's eyes didn't leave him, the reflection of the fire flickering in their cold depths. "I have received word from the north," she began, her tone cutting. "Your soldiers, the soldiers of Byzeth, have been harassing and robbing our people. Our trade with you has been a scam—a mockery of the agreements we made."
Aszer blinked, his mouth opening in protest. "I know nothing of this," he said, his voice a touch too quick. "Surely if we sit down and talk—"
