Demi-god Twin.-Chapter 8 - : The Green Haired Woman part 1/2.

-Iphicles' P.O.V-

The late afternoon sun bears down as we reach the gate to Argos, the towering walls casting long shadows over the cobblestone road.

The city looms before us, bustling with activity even at the outskirts.

Farmers with wagons of produce, merchants with exotic wares, and travelers of all kinds wait impatiently for entry.

Chiron takes the lead, presenting the royal seal of Tyrnis to the gate guards—a small, ornate badge I still carry. Despite losing the throne, it was too useful to leave behind.

The guard inspecting it is a wiry man with sharp eyes, his armor scuffed but serviceable. He squints at the seal before nodding curtly.

"Wait here," he says, retreating toward the gatehouse.

Chiron sighs, muttering just loud enough for Anissa and me to hear. "We should have just paid the entry fee. Would have been faster."

Anissa, leaning casually against the chariot, shakes her head. "Faster, yes. But with what? Our pockets are limited. We need to save for supplies."

The centaur makes a noise of reluctant agreement.

I stay silent, adjusting the hood over my head. The fewer people who recognize me, the better.

As we wait, I take the opportunity to observe the city's defenders.

The guards at Argos are more heavily armed than I remember from my visits as a prince.

Each man carries a sword and spear, their shields freshly painted with the city's crest. Their eyes are alert, scanning every traveler with suspicion.

'Something's off.'

My gaze drifts upward to the guard tower.

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Two figures stand there, silhouetted against the sun.

One is a burly man with a captain's insignia on his shoulder plate. The other is a striking woman with emerald-green hair that shimmers in the sunlight, her silver bow slung casually over her shoulder.

Her straight posture, legs slightly apart, dominant arm foreward, the other hidden and the light armor that seems to blend in with the surroundings...all stand out to me.

She's a warrior. A deadly one.

While the others openly stare at Chiron—the centaur naturally drawing attention—this woman's eyes are locked on me like a hawk.

Even through the shadow of my hood, I feel her piercing gaze. It's unnerving.

The gate creaks open, and the wiry guard returns, giving us a brusque wave to enter. "You're clear. Move along."

Chiron clicks his tongue but says nothing, leading the chariot forward.

As we pass through the gate, I glance back at the tower. The green-haired woman is still watching me, her expression unreadable.

---

Inside the city, Argos is as vibrant as ever, but there's a tension in the air that wasn't present during my childhood visits.

Chiron notices it too. "More soldiers than usual," he remarks, his eyes scanning the streets. "And not just city guards. Mercenaries, too."

I nod.

Groups of armed men loiter at corners and taverns, their mismatched armor and rough demeanor setting them apart from the disciplined city guard.

Anissa speaks up, her voice low. "Something's brewing. Maybe they're preparing for an expedition. Trade between Tyrnis and Argos has been strained—lots of caravans going missing. Bandits, if the rumors are true."

I shrug. "Doesn't concern us. Let's find an inn for the night and leave at first light."

Chiron chuckles. "I know just the place. Follow me."

---

The inn he leads us to is a modest establishment tucked into a quieter corner of the city. A weathered sign hangs above the door, depicting a pig wearing a crown.

I stare at it for a long moment. "The 'Princes' Sty?' Really, Chiron?"

The centaur grins. "I couldn't resist."

Shaking my head, I dismount, pulling my hood tighter. Chiron heads to the stables to secure the horse and chariot while Anissa and I step inside.

---

The tavern reeks of stale ale, sweat, and unwashed bodies. It's dimly lit, with only a few beams of fading sunlight breaking through the grime-covered windows.

"Perfect," I mutter under my breath. "More mercenaries."

Men and women Sellswords fill the room, their laughter loud and boisterous.

Weapons lean against chairs or hang loosely from belts, a clear sign that most of them are spoiling for a fight.

"Let's go," I say to Anissa, weaving through the crowd toward a shadowy corner.

We find a table near the back, away from prying eyes. A harried tavern maid approaches, her apron stained and her expression weary.

"What can I get you?" she asks, her tone flat.

"How much for food and three rooms?" I ask.

"Three silver," she replies.

I slide a gold coin onto the table, watching her eyes widen in shock. "Bring us your best food and three mugs of ale. Keep the change."

She snatches the coin and hurries off, clearly unused to such generosity.

Anissa leans forward, her expression disapproving. "You know our funds aren't limitless anymore, right?"

I sigh, realizing she's right. "Old habits," I admit. "I'll be more careful."

---

Before she can respond, a group of three mercenaries approaches our table.

The Tavern Maid carrying our food stops her approach, looking on in fear.

I smell trouble.

I subtly wave for her to wait and she nods gratefully, returning with the tray. No use in ruining my appetite with the stench these mercenaries carry.

"Well, well," one of them drawls, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Haven't seen a woman as pretty as you this side of Mycenae."

Anissa doesn't even look up. "Not interested."

Another mercenary with rotten teeth smirks, leaning closer. "Aw, don't be like that. We're just looking for some company."

Anissa finally raises her head, fixing him with a withering glare. "You smell worse than the palace pigs."

The insult lands hard and I snort. The man's smile twists into an angry sneer as he draws his blade, his companions following suit.

"You think the coward in the hood's going to protect you?" he snarls, pointing at me.

I chuckle softly, leaning back in my chair. "I don't need to protect her."

As expected, Anissa takes personal affront to the comment made about me. Fury ignites in her eyes.

'Show me what you can do.'

I think to myself, recalling Chiron's words. My maid servant is not normal.

Anissa moves before they can react, driving the heel of her palm into the chin of the nearest mercenary. The force lifts him off his feet and sends him crashing into a table, unconscious.

The tavern goes silent, every eye fixed on us.

"Try not to kill anyone," I say lazily, crossing my arms. "But have fun."

Anissa grins, drawing her axe with a gleam in her eye. "Gladly."

The fight is over almost as quickly as it begins.

Anissa is a whirlwind of controlled violence, her axe flashing as she disarms and incapacitates the mercenaries with brutal efficiency.

By the end of it, they lie groaning on the floor, their weapons scattered around them.

City guards soon rush in and apprehend the three. Somebody must have summoned them.

The rest of the tavern patrons wisely stay out of it, returning to their drinks as if nothing happened.

Anissa sits back down, brushing her hair out of her face. "Satisfied?"

"Very," I say with a smirk.

Chiron returns, now in Human Form (apparently he can shift his shape too-what can't he do?) just as the chaos subsides, his brow raised. "I leave you two alone for ten minutes..."

"Don't look at me," I say, gesturing toward Anissa.

"They insulted my Master. As far as I'm concerned, they got off light."

She grins unapologetically, her fingers drumming on the table. The only reaction to Chiron on two feet, is a raised brow.

Chiron sighs, sitting down. "Let's just hope we can leave this city without more trouble."

I'm not so sure. The green-haired woman from the gate flashes in my mind again, her piercing gaze lingering in my thoughts. Something tells me trouble is far from over.

I go to ask Chiron about the Shape-Shifting, but the food arrives and my growling belly pulls my focus elsewhere.

Eh, I'll ask him later.