CHAPTER 53 #2
As he turned away, Helena tugged her hood a little lower. Was it her imagination, or had he stressed the word ‘man’?
“Where are you from, John?” she asked, trotting to catch up. He didn’t look at her, but he slowed his stride a bit. “Not a very Ralnoran name you have there. Or accent.”
His right hand drifted toward his waist, then settled on his sword belt. “You’re right.”
“So you hail from...” she prompted when it became clear he wasn’t going to finish.
He stopped at the line for the next event. “Your name isn’t very Ralnoran, either,” he calmly pointed out. Helena could hear his amusement as he looked away. “I expected your name to be Gunther.”
“And why would you think that?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow that he couldn’t see. “Do you think every young man in Ralnor bears that name?”
Instead of replying, John simply curved his lips and turned to listen to the instructions.
Helena ignored them. She had written them, after all.
“Are you an old man?” she asked boldly. “It seems unkind to saddle the princess with someone twice her age.”
“I am not.” He selected an arrow from his quiver. “But I am saving her from spinsterhood. She should be grateful.”
“Are you a farmer? A merchant?”
He spun the arrow in his hand, considering her. “A son and brother.”
“Awfully tight-lipped, aren’t you? What will you tell me about yourself?” she pressed, standing next to him as he stepped up to the line. She wanted to flip his hood off, but what if he responded in kind? It was too early to reveal herself lest the council insist she forfeit.
He didn’t even look her way. “You won’t beat me. I am very motivated to win this contest.”
A laugh bubbled up, but she suppressed it. Her laugh was unlikely to sound like a young man’s. “And you believe motivation will bring you through the next trial?”
His lip curved farther, but he whipped off five quick shots before answering. “That, and the fact that I’m the best archer in the kingdom.”
Helena stared at the empty strings for a few moments as she processed his words. She cast a glance at the spectators. Liesl was watching her with a worried expression. Axel’s eyes drifted between her and John with a curious look that she couldn’t define. Katy wore a self-satisfied smile.
Returning her attention to John, Helena allowed a smirk of her own to cross her lips. “Maybe in your kingdom, whatever that may be. But not in Ralnor.”
“Are you sure?” he challenged. He took a step closer, but Helena fought his nearness as she approached the line and studied her bouncing rings.
His breath disturbed the wisps of chestnut hair that had pulled free from her braid. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. John’s voice was too deep, and his accent was wrong.
But his shoulders were right. So were his height and his skill.
Helena drew her bow, but the rings bounced again, and she held her shot. Confounded man, distracting her from her task.
She watched for a moment longer and began firing. The first shot took its ring.
“Do you know why else you won’t beat me?” he whispered.
She released her second arrow, and another ring was whisked away.
“I’ve spent some time on the wrong side of the law,” he continued, taking another step closer.
Her third arrow narrowly claimed its mark. Trying to block him out, she drew her fourth arrow and focused.
“And you know something about outlaws?” he murmured.
The word combined with his nearness made her heart beat faster, but her fourth arrow snagged its ring with no troubles.
She brought up her final arrow and lined up her shot. He leaned forward so that his breath fluttered the edge of her hood. Helena took a deep breath, stubbornly ignoring him.
“They aren’t afraid to cheat,” he whispered. Then he pressed his lips to the side of her mouth just as she released the string.
And Helena’s carefully aligned shot went wide.
Shocked exclamations rose from the crowd, but Helena stood frozen. John gently lifted her hood over her face, letting it fall down her back so everyone could see her long chestnut braid. “I win,” he whispered with a teasing smile. “That makes me the best archer in two kingdoms.”
“You cheated!” she protested. “You kissed me on my final shot!”
“I did,” he grinned, cupping her chin between his hands. “And it serves you right. Are you going to slap me again, or may I finally kiss my bride-to-be?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but another voice beat her to it.
“I will not object if she wishes to deliver a physical rebuke for your inappropriate actions. As for the rest, I believe it is premature to declare yourself my sister’s betrothed.
” Axel’s voice was light, but Helena could picture the hidden steel in his eyes.
“She should be allowed another shot, as you interfered unfairly.”
“And the princess competing for her own hand is not unfair?”
“The rules state that anyone can enter.” Her brother stared down her opponent. “But you intentionally upset her during her final shot.”
“And if she makes it on her second try?” Her competitor’s voice was perfectly calm. “What trick will we perform next? Shooting multiple stationary targets at once?” One corner of his mouth twitched up as he turned to face her. “I’m up to five now.”
Five? Helena scowled. “I thought you wouldn’t have time for archery for a while.”
Her brother’s forehead furrowed a little. “Helena, is this someone you know?”
“I had to practice for your marriage tournament, didn’t I?”
She stepped forward, hand shooting for his hood. He leaned back and grabbed her wrist just as she latched onto it. She tugged, but he held firm. “Would you stop trying to rescue me? I didn’t need your help!”
“Perhaps not.” He relaxed his grip, gently guiding her hand to remove his hood. His hazel eyes met hers, and she melted a little. “But I needed to fight for you.”
“But you cheated,” she insisted, running her fingers through his inch-long auburn hair. With his natural hair color and without a beard, he looked so different. But his eyes were the same.
Behind her, she heard her brother’s easygoing voice. “I think she omitted a few things from her account of her travels. Must I bow to him since he is a king, or may I challenge him to a sword match for making eyes at my sister?”
“You’re older and will also be a king someday,” Katy replied with a grin. “And I applaud your wisdom for not choosing archery.”
“Heavens, no,” Axel laughed. “I can’t even beat my sister.”
Rafe’s eyes scanned her face as his fingers trailed down her arm.
The spectators were still loudly discussing his actions and her presence, but her brother and his wife were the only ones who had approached them.
Helena ignored them all, because there was only one person whose words she cared about just now.
“I heard that you’ll be free of the council if the winner declines your hand,” Rafe whispered. Helena slid her hand down to his shoulder. “If you want me to, I’ll refuse. I won’t force you to marry me.”
She set her other hand on his chest. “But you would prefer to claim your ill-gotten prize?”
“Set up the next event,” he challenged with a competitive smirk. “I promise not to cheat, but I’ll still win.” Setting a careful hand on her chin, he nudged it up, encouraging her to meet his eyes. “I was pleased to receive Katrin’s letter. Laurier was…not the same after you left.”
“After you sent me away, you mean?” Helena prodded.
He nodded. “Never have I wished to be a simple forester as I did at that moment.”
And never had she so wished to not be a princess. But she couldn’t just say that.
“So you immediately rushed off to compete as one?” she replied with a raised eyebrow.
“To have a chance with you?” Moving his hand to cup her cheek, he murmured, “Always.”
His words sent a pleasant warmth through her chest. He’d refused to put his kingdom at odds with Ralnor for her, but he’d left it barely a month after unseating a usurper. The lines of division couldn’t all be healed yet.
But he’d still come running when he heard of a way to marry her without upsetting her council.
“Alors ne refuse pas.” The Old Amitian words were awkward on her tongue “épouse-moi.”
Then don’t refuse. Marry me.
His other hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer as he gave her one of his full smiles. Leaning in, he whispered against her lips, “Avec plaisir, ma chérie.” With pleasure, my darling.
Then he finally pressed his lips to hers, and Helena soaked in the message they told her.
Loved.
Cherished.
Chosen.
She’d never been as alone as she’d once believed. But knowing that her family loved her couldn’t compare to knowing that Rafe did, too.
And she never intended to forget the truth of either.