"Your bottom hurts?" Skandra asked with a raised brow.
Ithacles tried to force a smile for Skandra's sake. He was trying to cut the tension the way he always was. Of course Ithacles couldn't find anything funny right then. If he could he would have scoffed at the statement that Skandra was cleared of suspicion. He hadn't ever been a suspect in the first place, and without the man Ithacles would be none the wieser of the entire situation. A situation that was starting to create a buzz in his ear, a shake in his breath.
What happened next wasn't clear to Ithacles. All anger and a scuffle of feet. Then he was throwing a haymaker. It stopped short, pop! Someone caught his sleeve. Vedette was there, halting the punch that could have dazed a mule. She had stepped in with one arm around his shoulder, the other cuffing his arm out and wild.
"Off!" Ithacles shouted, and he pushed himself away from the woman.
Bang! Bang! His heart strained against his ribs as his boots knocked the floor. The doors of the war room were flung open as if struck by lightning, and the Prince was out in the corridor.
From within the chamber there could be heard a snarl and some form of blasphemy. Then a loud clang, ringing as something went smashing to the floor.
He was practically sprinting to the King's quarters.