Free Web NovelChapter 96: Chapter 96
When Circe was a child, she was often overtaken by fits of anger so fierce she could barely control herself. The fury would hit without warning, and she would drop to the ground, pounding her fists against the dirt until her fingers bled. She would only stop when the rage finally drained from her body, leaving her tired and hollow.
One day, after one of these episodes, her mother took her beyond the castle walls. They followed a narrow path to a rocky outcrop not far from the gates. Among the jagged stones stood an old tree, long dead, its gray bark peeling and its twisted branches reaching toward the sky.
"Don’t tell your father," her mother said quietly as they stopped in front of it. "I brought your brother here when he was your age. This is where he learned archery." Her voice was calm, steady, the kind of voice that always eased Circe’s temper.
Circe’s scowl eased a little as she reached out to touch the rough bark. She didn’t understand why she was always so angry. It wasn’t the kind of childish annoyance that passed quickly, it was something bigger, hotter, harder to put out. But her mother had always been the one person who could settle her.
Her mother, Thalora Valdris, had always been a kind hearted person and an exceptional queen but as she let the bag they brought along with them fall to the hard dirt ground, Circe saw another hidden side of her, a side only a few people ever got to see.
Thalora crouched down so they were eye to eye. She wrapped thin strips of cloth around each of Circe’s fingers before pulling a bow and a single arrow from the bag.
Circe stared down at the items in her mother’s hands with curiosity.
" Do you know what these are?" Thalora asked.
Circe nodded. " Weapons."
" Yes, my darling girl. They are weapons, dangerous ones that can so easily take a life." She straightened to her full height. "We are not just here so you can learn to shoot a few arrows, I brought you here to show you that just like this bow and arrow, your anger is a weapon and can be very deadly if used skillfully. Rage isn’t something that can be shoved into a box and locked away forever. We can not function without anger, it is a part of all of us. It reminds us that we are alive."
She placed the bow in Circe’s hand and pointed at the tree. " That will be your target. Although it is only an old tree, in your mind it can be anything you want it to be. Monsters, raiders, enemy forces. It will be anyone you want it to be."
Thalora stood behind her, holding Circe’s hand as she helped her notch the first arrow and pulled until the string grew taut before letting go. The arrow soared in the air and pierced the tree with a thud.
Circe’s lips parted in shock. She never thought she would be able to do something like that. It was her first time with a bow and arrow and she was already in love with it.
There was a wide smile on her face when she turned back to face her mother.
" I want to do that again." Circe said and Thalora smiled in response.
" Yes, my darling girl but you have to be patient enough to learn."
Her mother’s intention had been to provide Circe with an outlet for her anger but she only ended up sparking an obsession in the little girl. After that day, Circe kept returning to that very spot, not just when the rage made her feel like she was balancing precariously on a cliff’s edge, but also because she wanted to learn more and perfect her skills in archery.
There were days when she would stand in front of the tree and fire out so many rounds of arrows that her finger would bend and cramp the next day from the exertion and despite the pain and discomfort, she would still find herself back in that same spot in front of the tree. She would practice until her shoulders ached, and even then, she would still continue.
It didn’t take long for her to begin referring to it as her mother’s tree in her head.
She kept returning even after her mother died, but those visits were fewer and during moments when the grief and loss in her heart threatened to swallow her whole.
Now as she stood a distance away, she watched Kostia fire shot after shot at a round wooden target, she thought of her mother’s gentle smiles as she guided her through the motions.
Kostia suddenly glanced over his shoulder, his brows raising slightly when he spotted her.
" Your highness, have you been standing there long?" Kostia asked, looking a little bothered that he hadn’t heard her approach.
Circe had been in the manor for weeks and yet she barely interacted with Kostia at all. He was always quiet and kept mostly to himself. The complete opposite of her husband that annoyingly liked to interfere with her affairs by making it into his problem.
" Not long." She answered. She was about to turn around and walk back from where she came but paused when Kostia’s voice rang out once more.
" Do you know archery?" Kostia asked, shaking his bow in emphasis as though she could have missed the sight of it in his hand.
" Yes, I do. I mean I did." Her gaze fell on the wooden target and the many arrows sticking out of its middle. " I haven’t shot an arrow in years." Not since she traded in her bow and quiver for a sword and a seat in her father’s council.
" Do you want to try it again?" He asked. " You can if you want."
The question stunned her and for the next few seconds she was frozen, unable to form words. He couldn’t possibly know how much archery had meant to her and the impact it had in her life, so why was he offering it back to her? He was granting her access to weapons, did he not know how dangerous she could be with something like that in her hands?
First it was Ragnar agreeing to teach her how to ride his horses and now Kostia was letting her near arrows. Did all the men in this household believe themselves to be untouchable or did parts of them still underestimate her.
Her expression must have shown her disbelief.
" Only if you promise not to harm me with it."
" Why?" She asked, her brows furrowed.
" Because I might be a guard but I hate getting injured and I actively try to avoid it." Kostia answered, a small smile on his lips.
Circe shook her head slightly before speaking. " Why would you let me fire arrows?"
Kostia tilted his head slightly as he observed. He had deep blue eyes the color of the ocean that held a strange sort of intensity to them when they were fixed solely on someone. It felt odd now that she was the main focus of that intensity. Something in his gaze was old, older than the man himself. It felt nothing like when she was pinned under Ragnar’s gaze.
" I offered because you looked like you wanted to try, your highness." He held out the bow to her. " Here you go."
She walked closer to him with measured steps and took the bow from him, feeling the weight of it in her hand. It wasn’t like the one she had gotten used to. The bow in her hand lacked the intricate carvings and the skilled craftsmanship of the one her mother gifted her.
Kostia stepped aside as she reached for an arrow from the quiver on the ground. freewebnovёl.ƈom
Circe’s fingers shook from lack of practice as she notched the arrow against the string and pointed it at the target, taking aim. Pulling the string and holding the arrow in place were harder than she remembered. Could he notice that she was struggling? If he did, he said nothing about it.
Her mother’s soft voice was a whisper in her ears as she prepared to let the arrow fly.
Patience, my darling girl.
Circe began counting beneath her breath. One, two... By the third count she released the arrow, watching it embed itself near the center of the target in the blink of an eye.
Slow clapping sounded behind them, drawing closer with every second. She glanced back to find Ragnar and on his face was the widest smile she had ever seen.
" I didn’t know you were skilled with a bow, princess." Ragnar said.
Circe found herself pressing the bow closer to her side when she ought to have been returning it back to Kostia, suddenly afraid that Ragnar would snatch it from her fingers.
" You never asked." And even if he did, she probably wouldn’t have told him.
