Chapter 13
“Make sure your elbow isn’t too high!” the archery instructor barked, his voice sharp enough to make half the row of students flinch.
I adjusted my stance along with everyone else, my bowstring pulled taut against my fingers. The hemp fibers bit slightly into my skin. A bead of sweat slipped down my spine. It was summer again, and the blazing sun overhead was determined to burn my exposed face and neck.
It had been exactly one year since I was named an apprentice linguist, and it had been the best year of my life.
There had been travel to exotic countries, translating for a variety of foreign dignitaries, and my confidence in my skills grew with each day.
Comfort had just finished her final year of finishing school and was now a highly sought-after tutor in music, dancing, etiquette, and sewing.
Her poise and charm made her the picture of grace in court society, alongside Mother.
As for Curtis and me…Hubert’s constant gloomy predictions for our relationship turned out to be spectacularly wrong.
If anything, we were closer than ever. Even Father, who had once sworn to distrust any boy who came near me, now spent his free time fishing with Curtis on the quiet stretches between our diplomatic stops.
I would watch them return with wet boots, laughing and teasing each other like they’d been friends for years, and my heart would swell until I thought it might burst.
When we weren’t traveling, Curtis became just like one of the family and would join us in the evenings.
He would sit beside me on the sofa as we recounted the day’s events, listening to Father tell stories or Comfort’s harp or else harmonize his tenor voice with Mother’s soprano and my alto when we sang.
He had become part of the family so seamlessly, it was hard to remember a time he hadn’t been there.
These were the kind of moments I wanted to bottle up and keep forever.
The only shadow in this golden year was that the delay of Aria’s betrothal to Hubert had only made relations with Avivia more tense, and we always had to keep an armed guard every time we traveled there.
Farmers near the border were growing increasingly angry, claiming that the other side was encroaching on their territory and that they were being cheated out of land and resources.
There had been skirmishes, blood shed on both sides.
Still, the Council insisted a goodwill mission of delivering supplies and listening to grievances would mend a great deal of the anger.
“Release!”
The command snapped me back to my archery lesson. My fingers let go, the bowstring thrumming like a plucked harp. My arrow hit the target—not the bullseye, but close enough that it was a respectable shot. I lowered my bow, flexing my cramped fingers.
“My muscles are all seized up,” I muttered to Curtis, rolling my shoulder. The instructor was infamous for making us hold the ready position until our arms burned.
Curtis’s eyes lit with that sly, playful look I knew so well. “Does that mean I get to give you a shoulder rub later?”
“Quiet over there!” the instructor barked again.
“Lovebirds,” someone in the class muttered just loud enough for us to hear. Curtis grinned at me, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinning back.
We worked until the very last second of the lesson, the sun slanting low and hot in the training yard. When I finally unstrung my bow and slung my quiver away, my shoulders ached.
“Why do they even teach girls archery?” I asked as Curtis joined me, “when we can’t compete in tournaments or go on hunts?”
“In case we’re under siege,” Curtis said solemnly, though there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “If we menfolk all fall in battle, the enemy would then have to face an angry horde of women armed to the teeth.”
I tried—and failed—not to laugh at the image of Mother crouching behind a parapet, hair perfectly curled, loosing arrows with deadly precision. “Well, you better not fall in battle,” I said. “I like having you around.”
Curtis’s grin softened. “Then don’t worry. I’ll make sure you never have to pick up a bow for anything other than target practice. I’ll always be here to protect you.”
We laced our fingers together, the smell of grass and the sound of distant training shouts following us as we walked back across the sunlit grounds, the warmth of his hand in mine chasing away the last ache in my shoulders.