“Where are you going?” Grevik asked, finishing off his drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Home,” she lied. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
Wrapping her cloak around her, she exited the tavern and headed to a nearby alley. When no one was near, she climbed the ladder on the side of the building and made her way to the center of the rooftop, laying down on her back and staring up at the stars. The smell of baking bread wafted in the cool air.
She loved her kingdom dearly, but she would not marry some old geezer just to keep peace. There had to be another way. Emperion’s army was strong. Surely, they could keep their borders secure. All her life, she knew she’d most likely have an arranged marriage—she just didn’t realize it would come so soon and be so … so unappealing. A tear slid down her cheek, and she punched the rooftop. She would not cry like some silly girl. She was better than that.
Growing up, her parents were always happy. Even if they were dealing with a nasty political issue, they always had one another for comfort and support. She knew her parents loved each other and that they were best friends. Allyssa desperately wanted the sort of marriage her parents had—one of mutual love and respect.
Gazing up at the stars, she found the biggest and brightest one. “I wish to marry a man who possesses all my heart’s desires and who is the prince of a great kingdom that can complement and strengthen Emperion.”
Taking a steadying breath, Allyssa released the bow string and the arrow sailed through the air, landing with a small thud directly in the bull’s-eye. She nocked another arrow, aimed, and released. Again, a direct hit.
Her father had taught her everything she knew. When she was only four, Darmik showed her how to defend herself. She learned how to shoot a bow and arrow by the time she was six, could accurately throw daggers from a long distance by the age of eight, and had been sparring for as long as she could remember.
Mayra, who stood beside her, raised her own bow and attempted to hit a much closer target. She released her arrow, and it struck the outer ring.
“Lower your left arm when you aim,” Allyssa instructed.
“That’s what my father always says,” Mayra answered, nocking another arrow. “I’ll never be as skilled at archery as you.”
“You don’t practice enough.”
“I’d rather be studying another language than doing archery,” she replied with a wry smile, releasing the arrow and hitting the outer ring for a second time.
Mayra had always been interested in other languages and cultures. In fact, she had quite the ear for linguistics, so good that Neco had sent her on a few missions as a spy.
“Gah,” Madelin said as she stomped her foot, her target still empty. “What is the point of us shooting?” she asked from the other side of Mayra. “This is tedious. Shouldn’t we practice dancing instead of archery?” She set her bow down and folded her arms.
Allyssa chuckled, ignoring her friend. Madelin complained every time they did this.
“If you’d like some help,” Marek said, stepping forward, “I could be of assistance.”
“That would be lovely,” Madelin cooed as she bent over, picking her bow back up.
Mayra rolled her eyes. “Really, brother? Aren’t you supposed to be guarding us? Not flirting?” She released another arrow, hitting the outer ring, again.
Marek whacked his sister’s arm. “I’m guarding the princess, not you,” he chided.
“I hardly think helping Madelin shoot is guarding the princess,” Mayra replied.
“It’s fine,” Allyssa said, not wanting them to fight. She honestly didn’t mind and had suspected Marek and Madelin had feelings for one another for quite some time. Besides, there were half a dozen soldiers guarding Allyssa right now, and they were still on the castle grounds. If Marek wanted to spend a few moments with Madelin, he could.
Allyssa took another arrow from her quiver and nocked it. The skirt of her dress swayed to the left from the gusty wind. Adjusting her aim accordingly, she released the bow string. Direct hit. She really should request the targets be moved further back. This was far too easy.
“I don’t think Father would want the two of them courting,” Mayra mumbled to Allyssa.
“Why?” she asked. Allyssa didn’t think Marek and Madelin were courting—flirting definitely, but it hadn’t progressed beyond that.
“Marek works here. It’s unprofessional for the head of your personal guard to show interest in your lady-in-waiting.” Mayra put her bow on the ground.
Allyssa set her bow down next to Mayra’s. “Weren’t both your parents servants when they met?” Rema had told her Marek and Mayra’s father, Neco, was in the elite guard with Darmik and their mother, Ellie, was Rema’s chambermaid years ago on Greenwood Island before Rema overthrew the illegitimate king.