Night has fallen in the wake of Jairab and Sytrenne's momentous visit to Lord Evhain of Igen, compelling the small troupe of travelers to divert from their journey to a roadside camp. They've come to rest near the river, where a fallen tree provides an ideal posting spot for their six runnerbeasts. Sakin and Alharis have doffed their headgear and made up a fire, while Jairab has been tending to the runners, paying particular mind to the lovely palomino he's provided for Sytrenne to ride. Wearing a pair of more rugged trousers and boots and a simpler, looser shirt with the sleeves rolled and his collar undone to the top of his chest, he looks rather ordinary compared to how he'd presented at the Hold. The effect is even more pronounced as he unfurls bedrolls and breaks kindling. As the last vestiges of daylight disappear completely, however, he starts to wander toward the riverbank proper, a thoughtful air hanging about him.

About the only time Sytrenne will be caught in pants will be when they are absolutely necessary, and riding is certainly one of those times, especially when riding for long distances. But that doesn't mean she has to be any less stylish. The butter soft suede pants she wears are dyed a warm brown, tailored to fit her like a second skin, hugging tight to her calves as they dissappear into highly polished riding boots. to top off the outfit, a deep indigo coat that cinches in at her waist and then flared out over her hips in to give the illusion of a skirt. Her hair is pulled back into a sleek runnertail that bounces along behind her as she walks. After conferring with Alexey and Vyktos on setting up her own sleeping area, giving decisive instructions before looking around the camp for a moment. Spotting Jairab wandering off, she warns her guards where she's heading off to follow him. When she catches up, her head tilts slightly to one side and just watches him for a long moment before politely clearing her throat. "An eighth mark for your thoughts?" She asks softly.

There may be some discreet sizing up of Sytrenne's guards by Jairab's shadows while their respective wards wander off toward the river, ending with Sakin asking who wants to hunt for dinner. Which he'll do if no one else seems interested, of course. Jairab, standing between the edge of the firelight and the water, is aware of Sytrenne's eventual trailing after him, so isn't surprised when she clears her throat. Even so, he's appreciative of her quieter tone, turning somewhat to regard her with a light smirk. "They are many, Sytrenne. I'm not certain an eighth would cover my cost," he remarks drolly, and smiles outright. Then he glances back toward the camp, where the firelight turns the figures of their guards to mere silhouettes. "Even when I can allow myself to rest, I cannot seem to turn my mind from what's to come next." He sighs, the slight huff with which he does so betraying a bit of self-frustration.

Sytrenne's guards do some sizing up of their own as they roll out their bedrolls, Alexey finally offering to go with Sakin if he wants company for the hunting, leaving Vyktos behind to keep an eye on things. When Jairab answers her query, Sytrenne softly chuckles as she moves up to stand next to Jairab, letting her gaze slip over the water of the Igen River, appreciating of the natural beauty. "Well, however many there are, I'm sure I can afford it." She offers softly with a sidelong look at him as he glances back towards the camp, taking the opportunity to study his profile while she can. His frustration brings a sympathetic frown to the lady's brows. "It's not a bad thing to thinking of what's next. Just means you'll be better prepared than those who don't." She offers with a gentle smile and a little tilt of her head.

Jairab's gaze returns to the water for a moment as well when Sytrenne comes up next to him. "Indeed," he rumbles amusedly to her first, and glances back over at her. A little tilt of his head toward the water bears silent invitation to join him as he moves closer to the river's edge with measured steps. "I supposed you're right, though I crave a moment to simply be," he admits quietly. Another amused look slides her way. "I suppose I am not alone in thinking ahead at the moment. If I have learned anything of you in our conversations as of late, it is that you may very well be two steps ahead of me."

Reaching up to shake her hair free from the confines of that tight runnertail, Sytrenne nods in response to his head tilt and strolls with him towards the water, combing her fingers through her pale golden locks to get them to settle properly about her shoulders, a bit more disheveled than she usually sports, but after the day they had, she's not going to fuss over it. When he says his first, she pauses in her step a moment, "If you wanted to be alone, I can go back to the fire…" But then his next has her smile deepening even as she lowers her lashes demurely. "Surely, a simple woman like myself would never be able to be two steps ahead of a man." She replies in a breathy, sort of sing song voice, mocking the way she is seen in the eyes of the traditionalists who run rampant in the Bazaar.

Jairab blinks in surprise when Sytrenne suggests she might go back to the fire after accepting his invitation to go closer to the river. Perhaps he's so tired he's managed to contradict himself! But the awkward moment passes, and he scoffs lightly at her mockery. "The old guard is a cadre of fools to be so dismissive of a woman with a sharp mind," he all but grumbles as they stop where a few palms shelter a boulder that's nearly of a height with him. The water burbles softly over submerged stones a few strides away, stretching off into the darkness toward the shadows of the distant shore. "I do understand your reasoning for pursuing your current path, truly. But…do you truly believe it will be worthwhile, dealing with such a mindset from your husband every single day?"

Sytrenne lifts her gaze back up in his direction when she catches that grumble of his, though her grey eyes dance a bit with mild amusement. "It's all part of the game I must play to ensure that I am in a position to enact real change at a level where I need not worry about what they think because I'll be the one with the power." Her shoulders roll back to straighten her posture, jaw setting with quiet determination as she lets her gaze slide over the dark water. His next earns him a sidelong glance, tinged with quizzical curiosity. "Will it be worthwhile for the chance of being Lady of Igen Hold? Yes, without a doubt in my mind. Though, I do have some small hope that I might find the rare son among them who may have more progressive view on the roles of women. But as long as he's not cruel, I think I can handle just about any personality."

Jairab turns to face Sytrenne fully, eyes intent upon hers. "You seem so certain that whomever you choose would easily allow you that power," he observes, his tone still quiet. "The Bazaar families are no strangers to intrigues of their own, yes? Suppose we throw this party, no expense spared, and you find the in you're seeking with one of them. Suppose the man who cleaves to your side is playing just as much a game as you are, dealing with you civilly conceding his part in things. Then comes your wedding, your eventual instatement as Lady of Igen, he as Lord…and he does turn out to be cruel. Devious. He'd been playing a long game for the sake of the title he would gain and what it entitles him to all along, and with the support of the traditionalists, you find yourself oppressed, your hands tied despite all the wit you bring to bear." He lets that sit for a moment, drifting half a step closer. "I'm certain you've considered this. Set my mind at ease, Sytrenne. What will you do, should such a story play out?"

"He wouldn't have a choice." Sytrenne starts off, confident enough at first, but her smile slowly fades the more Jairab speaks, until her lips are pressed into a tight line, her jaw tensing subtly as her grey eyes grow suspiscious. "You're almost as bad as they are, thinking I can't handle myself." She says carefully, her voice even. "One moment you're telling me I'm two steps ahead of you, and now you're telling me to rethink my personal goals because I might end up with an unsuitable husband in a situation where I will have no power? I would tell you what I would do, but that will never happen." She still hasn't risen her voice, her control over her composure only heightened as she stands a bit straighter, clasping her hands behind her back as she turns back to the river, fixating on a point far in the distance.

"Hardly anyone knows, but I wanted to be a Harper growing up. I'm not musical, but I had a knack for the law of all things. While most girls read books of romance, I was entranced by the records of old contracts, and trade agreeement and tithes, and all that. I know, it's a strange hobby to boast of, but there we are." She offers a shrug. "I begged my father to let me apprentice. I wanted to learn it all. But he forbade it. I'm his only child, they tried for more, but it wasn't to be. He needed an heir to help carry on the Blood in the Hold, and I was his only one." She smiles softly then. "So I made my first real deal, I was barely twelve. I told my father I would give up being a Harper if he still allowed me to learn about what I wanted to learn, and I would use those skills to in turn help the Hold." She takes a moment to take a deep breath and exhale it before turning to him with a soft smile, her eyes friendly again. "So if you think that I'm not going to be writting up my own marriage contract that will protect me with iron clad certainty against cruelty or any kind of power hungry scheming husband, then you don't know me at all, Jairab."

The moment Sytrenne insinuates that he is anything like the hidebound traditionalists and then proceeds to put words in his mouth, Jairab's handsome features go hard, his eyes flashing like lightning upon obsidian. Yet he stands and listens, his jaw clenched. Despite her smile and the softening of her eyes when she turns to him, that tension remains. A few beats of silence pass in the wake of her words, his nerves vibrating with checked action…yet that action refuses to define itself immediately. "Not once have I questioned your ability to handle yourself," he states evenly. "Including now. Forgive me for risking concern; it is clearly not welcome. Excuse me." With that, he steps past her and begins striding down the river bank toward another copse of palms to the north, hands clenched in a visible demonstration of his effort to keep himself composed.

Sytrenne stands in stunned silence for a moment after Jairab walks past her, blinking owlishly before she turns on her heel and goes after him. "Jairab!" She calls, taking long strides to catch up to him. "Please don't just walk away. What did I say to so upset you?" She reaches out to try and grab his shoulder in the hopes of turning him around to face her.

It's partly out of surprise that Sytrenne does catch up to him that Jairab rounds on her when her hand meets his shoulder, winding up quite close when he does stop. "I'm 'almost as bad as they are'?" He isn't quite shouting, but emotion has brought more volume and tightness to his voice. "Who does not know whom at all here, Sytrenne? I have fought all my life to shatter the bonds of tradition that have crippled my home, that would have turned me into one of 'them,' and I thought I had demonstrated as much. Instead, when I seek understanding and take a chance to display worry for a woman I have come to admire, I am met with that insult!"

Sytrenne pulls her hand back when Jairab rounds on her, but she stands her ground and doesn't step back even if they are in close proxitmity with each other. "I…" She stutters, struck speechless, lips opening and closing a few times with false starts as her brows furrow, finally catching her lower lips against her teeth when it starts to tremble just a bit, inhaling and exhaling a few times through her nose as she orders her thoughts before trying again. "Jairab…" She whispers. "I'm sorry. You're right, that was uncalled for." She admits softly as she averts her gaze downwards, to ashamed even to look him in the eye. "I have developped a sensitivity when it comes to men who I perceive are trying to tell me they know better than me when it comes to my own life. I mistook your concern for that. And…I am sorry. The truth is, no. You're not like them at all. And I know that, I do. I reacted badly." She lifts her gaze again. "Please forgive me."

The tension in Jairab's frame eases bit by bit over the next few moments until Sytrenne lifts her eyes to him once more. There's a hint of wariness to him that betrays his own sensitivities. When she asks for his forgiveness, he takes a deep, quiet breath in through his nose, sighing it out in the same manner. His hand lifts, fingertips gently grazing the side of her chin before he realizes what he's doing. "I forgive you," he says roughly, and lets his hand drop, clearing his throat to bring back some evenness to his tone. He's quiet again for a moment, studying her, seeming to pick out more details about her even in the darkness because of how close they remain. "You are…a formidable woman, Sytrenne. A force to be reckoned with…and someone I enjoy matching wits with. Forming grand plans with. An equal. And…" He swallows against something that almost slips free, his throat bobbing as he forces his words onto another track. His tone is quiet and husky edged when he speaks again. "…And we shall have our celebration of alliance. You shall find your husband, claim your title, gain the power due you. I shall leverage my patrons and allies, have my home titled as a proper Hold, claim my own title…and that will be that. For both of us."

The touch of Jairab's fingers against the side of her chin is almost overlooked with how focused Sytrenne is on the man's face, holding her breath until she knows if she's been forgiven. When he finally utters those rough words, she finally exhales with a relief that seeps into her grey eyes. It's only when he pulls his hand back that she blinks with the full realization of the contact that was made. A touch of confusion settles a wrinkle between her brow as she is subject to his study, pressing her lips together to try and get some moisture back into them. He'll easily catch a touch of pink to her cheeks when he compliments her so, though she's still sharp enoough to catch his clever change of direction, earning his a careful strudy right back, as if some micro expression might give away what he was going to say. "I haven't met someone on my level in a very long time Jairab. Someone clever and sharp, and always looking for ways to accomplish what they want. It's been… refreshing, truly. I hope this is just the start of a very beneficial alliance, for us both." She replies carefully with a bit of a head tilt to one side. "We should probably get back before Vyktos comes looking for me. I really hate when he does that."

Jairab's expression is inscrutable as he observes Sytrenne's blush and listens to her words. His jaw tightens again as he listens, another touch of unspoken frustration creeping in around the edges, and the sharpness to his gaze clouds over as he nods to her last. "Indeed," he murmurs, forcing a wan smile. "Go on ahead of me. I…need to stay here for a bit. I'll be back when I smell dinner." He takes a step back and inclines his head to her, clasping his hands behind him - far more tightly than she'll be able to observe at this angle.

Sytrenne isn't completely convinced by the man's wan smile, but she can certainly takes the hint. "Very well." She replies simply when he steps back, returning his head incline with a polite bob of her own. "Don't be too long though, or I'll send Vyktos to come get you so you can experience that pleasure for yourself." She offers with a smile tilted in his direction before she turns to head back towards the firelight, taking the time in the short stroll back to order her own thoughts.

Jairab watches Sytrenne go, waiting until he's certain she's out of earshot before uttering a frustrated growl and turn back toward the river. He grabs a smooth stone from the sandy soil and hurls it as far as he can just for some physical venting of thoughts that refuse to settle. Perhaps food will help them find order, or sleep. For now, he has the rocks and the river…and they will have to serve.