“I’d love to.” Choosing a smaller bow, the curves of its light brown wooden limb arched so that it looks a bit more heart-shaped than the others, I grab a quiver and meet Cassius at his imaginary line. “Maybe Nox can come too? I’m sure the kids would love to see their prince.”
“He always comes when he can, though I imagine his days will only grow more hectic now. He’s got not only his own duties as prince but obligations to the council to fulfill as well. Nock your arrow like I showed you.”
Cassius has been beyond patient in helping me learn the basics of preparing to shoot an arrow from a bow. Tucking away my thoughts on the council, I extend my left arm forward, gripping the bow in the middle where it curves back towards me. Laying the shaft of the arrow in a small divot in the wood, I line the nock up on the string and begin to pull it back to my jaw. My arms strain from the tautness of the bow, my hands already wavering. I haven’t even been able to release the damn arrow yetbecause my muscles still aren’t strong enough to hold everything steady in order for me to aim it.
“You’re shaking less than you were before, Blondie. It’s progress.”
“I guess,” I huff.
“Don’t let your shoulders round in—pull them back. Good.” He walks around me, critiquing my form and telling me to make small adjustments while I keep the string drawn. “Okay, for fun, let’s release the arrow today.”
“For fun.” I mimic his voice, causing him to laugh.
“Just try,” he insists. Blowing out a breath so harshly that my lips flutter, I eye the closest target in front of me. “Shooting an arrow has a bit of an instinctive element to it. Slow your breathing down. Focus less on how your muscles might be fatiguing and more on where you want the arrow to go. Think of something that makes you happy to quiet your mind as you focus on the target.”
I heed his instructions, images of all the things that make me happy playing in my mind. Warmth rises inside of me as my light magic flares, the darker half still hidden within that imagined well. At least my practice with keeping the shadows suppressed has gotten better. I suppose I could be proud of that. Taking a slow and steady inhale, I hold it for a few seconds as I stare the target down, before releasing the arrow with my exhale. Despite the prep and the small bit of confidence I was feeling, I tilt my head back and groan in defeat when I see the arrow sticking out of the ground a few feet short of the closest target. Over and over, I nock an arrow and release it, only for it to repeatedly fall short. The muscles of my shoulders, back, and arms scream in pain, but I keep going at Cassius’ behest until all the arrows in the quiver are gone.
“It’s alright, Blondie,” he cajoles, patting me on the top of my head twice. “You can only get better from here. Besides, there isno time to fret about it because you and I are going to go for a run.”
“What?” I shout, but he is already jogging backwards, waiting for me to join him.
I sigh again, laying the bow and quiver down on the table and then falling into stride with him, which he’s obviously altered so that his long legs take shorter steps. We jog for what feels like years—having to slow to a walk multiple times instead—yet my exhaustion is married with a sense of accomplishment. I am not barred inside a stone cage anymore. I am free to move and explore andlive,and for that, I willalwaysfind a way to be grateful for this torture.
Though, to be clear, itistorture.
After running, Cassius finishes our session with a series of Forms until I’m left lying in the soft grass and gazing at the sky above with my entire body coated in sweat.
“How much do you hate me?” he asks from where he sits next to me, his elbows resting on his knees. His bright blond hair gleams under the sunlight where it’s gathered on the top of his head messily. Long tendrils that have fallen from the ponytail frame his handsome face, his eyes as light as chips of ice.
“I don’t hate you at all, Cassius.”
“Cass. Please call me Cass. Only my father calls me Cassius, and it’s usually when he’s scolding me.” He flashes me a big smile, bumping my boot with his own.
“Okay then, Cass, I don’t hate you. In fact, I wanted to thank you. I’m grateful to you for taking the time to train me, for always being so kind.” I look back out at the bright blue sky above us, tracing over the small white clouds streaked across it. “What has Nox told you about me? About where I come from?” I don’t know why I feel compelled to ask, why it matters to me if Cass knows my history.
“Nox is like a brother to me,” he starts, drawing my attention back to him, “and I know him as any sibling might know another. He is different after meeting you. In a good way,” he quickly clarifies, holding his hands placatingly out to me. “But I could tell something was wrong between the two of you when you arrived at the palace. Then, when you went into that deep sleep and days passed, he needed someone to talk to. Someone who he knew wouldn’t judge his decisions but also would tell him their honest opinion.” I move up to sit as his expression grows more serious. “He’s told me what is surface level about you—your true title and where you come from, what you escaped. He only told me those things because he needed me to vow that the fierceness with which I protect him, both as my brother and as my prince, would get extended toyou.”
Nodding, I tuck the loosened strands of hair from my braid behind my ear. “I’m not upset that he told you about me. I trust in his decisions, inhim.And I trust you.” I look down and play with a blade of grass as a blush blooms across my cheeks. “On the many lonely nights in my tower, when all there was to do was daydream, I would often wonder if making friends was an art that was lost to me. I had spent my entire life isolated and alone. Before Nox, my only companions were a guard in his fourth decade who could only visit for an hour every few days and a fox who I had to keep hidden. But you’ve never once made me feel odd or different or questioned why Nox might be with someone so clearly unequipped for… justlife,” I say with a forced chuckle.
“Give yourself some credit, Rhea,” he counters, and I startle at his use of my actual name. “I’m not being kind to you because you happen to be with my brother. I like you because you are agood person. Because you see Nox like no one ever has before. The more I’ve gotten to know you, the easier it is to see how and why he’s so in love with you.” My smile wobbles as my watery eyes hold his. A moment passes before he clears his throat andhops up. “Shall we make our way back?” he asks, extending his hand out to help me up. My muscles ache, but I direct my magic to soothe them as we enter the cover of the trees. “Any plans for tonight?”
“I’m going to go to a tavern with my friend Elora. I invited Nox to join us, and you can come along too if you want.”
“Which tavern?” he asks, the question going unanswered because I realize that I never bothered to get that detail from Elora. Cass chuckles after a moment of my silence, his elbow gently bumping my arm. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Nox will be able to find you, Blondie.”
Chapter Fifty: Rhea
“Mom, I’m leaving early!”Elora shouts to the back of the bookstore she runs with her parents. The Overflowing Bookshelf is just that, an entire store filled top to bottom with more books than I have ever seen outside of an actual library.
Elora and her mother shout a few more things back and forth to each other while I browse the black shelves that line the entire circular space. It smells exactly how I imagined a bookstore built inside of a tree would—leather and aged paper and earth.
After my walk back home with Cassius, I had showered and then stared at my collection of new clothes, which seemed to grow weekly and had been moved into Nox’s room. What did one wear to go out to a tavern? After much debate, my anxiousness had grown to be too much, so I shouted down the hall to Barron and asked if he could get Sarai. Within a few moments, the lovely dark haired woman had arrived and guided me towards a pale pink dress with a fitted bodice and a loose skirt that stopped just under my knees. Sheer ribbons tied in a bow held the dress at my shoulders. She paired the look with white sandals and then worked on my hair, giving it a small trim at my request before using her magic to twist it into soft curls.
“Okay, are you ready?” Elora comes bounding around a corner, her own dress of a similar fashion to mine except in a lovely shade of dark green that makes her copper hair and fair skin glow.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, letting her link arms with me as she leads us under the yellow glow of the spelled flames and out the front door where the fragrant floral air greets us.
“Thank you! You do as well! Do you know when the men will join us?”
