Her expression showed her suspicion. “Analukkiri?”
“In addition to whatever task I assign to you, you will also assist me with my oils every night.”
“Your…oils?” she asked slowly, her expression bewildered instead of appalled.
“During the cold season, our skin becomes very dry and can crack if not properly cared for,” I informed her, suppressing a grin. “AsVorakkar, I have the luxury of selecting analukkirito assist me with this. That will be you if you fail.”
“You cannot be serious,” she said slowly.
“It is entirely up to you,” I told her. “You wished to bargain. This is my demand if you are unsuccessful.”
“For how long?” she asked, frowning.
Amusement rose in my chest and I informed her, “Any female would jump at the chance to be myalukkiri,thissie. I am starting to feel insulted.”
“For how long?” she repeated, her question clipped.
“Two weeks,” I told her. “Or I suppose I can just choose to make it your task in my horde for the entire season.”
Her lips pressed together. “One week. And my dagger will be very close by, demon king.”
I couldn’t hide my grin then.
“We are in agreement,” I told her. Her eyes narrowed on me and I jerked my chin in the direction of the pole. “You may begin whenever you wish.”
Her shoulders set and she turned. Setting the quiver on the ground next to her, she plucked out a single arrow and I saw the first instance of doubt on her features.
“What is it?”
“It’s heavy,” she murmured, almost to herself. She judged the distance again, looking towards the single pole in the darkened corner.
“It is not made of wood and feathers.” Like her old bow had been.
She took in a small breath and I watched as she expertly nocked the arrow despite her observation. Her movements were smooth and familiar, as if she’d done it hundreds of times before. Which, perhaps, she had.
The bow was much too large for her. It was made for a Dakkari warrior, not avekkiri kalles. But she didn’t hesitate again and I admired that.
Rapt, I watched her pull back the arrow, the cord of the bow pressing into the side of her cheek as she steadied it. Though her arm trembled slightly from the weight, from the tension of the cord, I saw her inhale a slow, measured breath, her eyes focused, her shoulders relaxed.
I couldn’t tear my eyes from her as she exhaled on the release, not even turning to see where the arrow landed.
By her expression, I knew she’d missed, and when I finally managed to look, I saw it had skidded low on the ground, a short distance from the pole.
She had her second arrow nocked before I turned back towards her. Adjusting her stance, adjusting her grip, adjusting the angle of the bow, she inhaled…and then released.
A dull thud sounded but when I turned, I saw she’d hit the bottom of the fence, not the pole.
“One left,” I murmured, my feet taking me a step closer to her. When her gaze flicked up at me, I saw her determination, but I didn’t see a hint of worry.
It should disturb me how much I was drawn to her. Vodan’s warning filtered through my mind but I shook it away as she nocked her last arrow.
Heart thudding a deep, even rhythm in my chest, I noticed she took more time assessing the distance.
However, she was growing fatigued from the strain. The tension from the bowstring was more than likely irritating the wounds on her back, though she didn’t show it. And though she’d been steadily eating and regaining her strength, she’d been bedridden with fever just a couple days ago.
A part of me thought I shouldn’t have brought her out here. But something told me she wanted to be there, regardless of the outcome, that she would spend the entire night in the training grounds if she could.
She inhaled and then exhaled. The arrow shot from the bow with a whistling hiss.
