Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 670: Friendly Competition

"Impossible," Islinda gasped in disbelief as Alwyn led them out of the stately corridors and into the expansive outdoor training ground. "H-how... t-this...." Her eyes widened in delight at the sight before her.

"And this is our outdoor training ground," Alwyn announced, pleased by the excitement he saw in Islinda’s eyes. Although the tour was initially designed for Prince Andre, Islinda’s childlike fascination made it all the more enjoyable.

The training grounds were vast and well-maintained, with sections dedicated to various forms of combat and athletic disciplines. Warriors sparred with swords, others practiced their winter magic, and a few were engaged in tactical drills. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

He continued, "Here, our warriors hone their skills and prepare for any threats to the Winter Court."

While Alwyn went on to give more details, what caught Islinda’s attention most was the archery range. Rows of targets lined the far end, and several Fae archers were demonstrating their remarkable precision and skill.

The sight of the bows and arrows set Islinda’s heart racing with excitement. Thanks to hunting and providing food for the family, she had always excelled in archery, and right now, Islinda couldn’t wait to try her hand at it here. Her fingers itched to grasp a bow, to feel the tension of the string, and to let an arrow fly.

"Ahh...," Andre said from beside her, nudging her. "Now that I remember, you have always been good with arrows and bows."

"Yes, I’m good at it," Islinda replied, her voice filled with pride and eagerness. "It’s one of the few things I excel at."

Without waiting for an invitation, Islinda hurried over to the archery range, her eagerness apparent in her quickened steps. Andre, noticing her enthusiasm, followed closely behind, a curious smile playing on his lips. The others watched from behind, wondering what they were up to.

Upon seeing them, the Faeries who had been practicing their skills at the archery range halted their practice, deciding to give them space and privacy. While some moved to practice another skill, a few remained, intrigued to see what Islinda could do. Fae viewed humans as weak and useless, and now they were curious to see what Islinda could offer.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Andre asked, his brows lifted skeptically.

"It’s been a while, but I can’t be that bad," Islinda said, running her fingers over the smooth wood and taut string of the finely crafted bow she had chosen.

"This is a Fae arrow and bow," Andre pointed out, waiting for her response.

"So?" Islinda retorted, testing its weight and balance in her hands. She said confidently, "Whether made from Fae wood or not, everything depends on the ability of the archer."

Islinda picked up an arrow from the quiver, nocked it expertly, and drew the bowstring back in one fluid motion. She stopped talking as her eyes focused intently on the distant target, and with a deep breath, she released the arrow. It soared through the air, striking... nothing.

"T-that can’t be true...," Islinda stammered, her expression filled with utter disbelief. She turned to Andre, complaining, "Did you just see...? I was sure...."

But Andre had a smug look on his face as if saying "I told you so," and it infuriated Islinda. She let out a frustrated grunt and turned to the target again, her eyes narrowed with determination.

Islinda was too stubborn and prideful to accept that Andre was right and Fae bows and arrows were indeed different from the regular ones. What was so special about the bow anyway except it was somewhat lighter than the usual ones she used and of which she had been considerate when she released the arrow.

She had been hunting for years and was determined to figure this out. Islinda picked another arrow and released the string.

Whoosh. It flew past without hitting anything.

"Ugh!" Islinda stomped her feet, yet she did not give up.

Again and again, Islinda tried, each attempt ending in frustration. The closest she had come was hitting the first range, but that was all.

Nearly all the Faeries on the training ground left their practice to watch Islinda punishing herself. The selfish creatures had always had a morbid fascination for seeing people in pain, and Islinda’s suffering was sweet to watch. The human put up quite a show for them.

"I love you, honey, but I think you should give up now," Gabbi said, tapping Islinda on the shoulder, gently taking the bow from her, stopping her from shooting another round she was bound to lose.

Islinda was drenched with sweat, her heart racing, and her arms dead from overexertion. So far, she had used up to ten different bows in the course of her tryout, with no positive result.

When she turned, Islinda met Andre’s smug expression and hissed sharply, "Not a word."

Andre didn’t need to say a thing; the mirth in his eyes said it all. To add salt to her injuries, he went ahead to pick up the bow he had abandoned, nocked an arrow, and let it fly. The arrow hit the bullseye with a satisfying thud.

At once, there was an uproar among the Fae as they jubilated and celebrated their kind. Of course, in the end, the Fae were the superior race and humans could not compare!

Islinda tasted iron in her mouth from biting down on her tongue so hard. This was so embarrassing and infuriating. To be honest, Islinda wanted to argue that the bow was enchanted or something, but she didn’t want to be tagged a sore loser. She had truly lost.

"Want me to show you?" Andre asked, his eyes sparkling.

Islinda wanted to huff a sarcastic reply, but the competitive spirit in her couldn’t give up easily. She had to learn how to handle Fae bows and arrows, and then when she’s learned, beat Andre’s ass in another round. The Fae can’t have the last laugh. She can’t let them win.

"Fine," she said with a breath of resignation.

Andre was all smiles as Islinda walked up to him and said, "Show me."

"Sure, why not." He gave her that lopsided grin.

Islinda rolled her eyes.

Andre picked up one of the bows she had used. Islinda was not a beginner, hence there was no need to go over the basics. He moved behind her and then lifted the bow to her level. "Give the string a pull," he said.

Islinda narrowed her gaze at him. This was not the lesson she had been expecting. It seemed too easy. Uncesssary.

Andre must have sensed the direction of her thoughts because he snorted, "Just do as I say."

Well, what’s the worst that could happen? Islinda pulled the string as he had commanded. Then she felt it, her eyes lightning up a bit with the realization.

"So?" Andre inquired, waiting for her feedback. "How is it? How different does it feel from your average human weapon?"

Islinda’s features deepened with concentration. "Little resistance," she answered, a little awe appearing on her face. "Now that I think about it, I had to put in little to no effort, drawing it to its full extension."

"Exactly," Andre’s smirk wasn’t smug. "The dryads willingly offer up their trees for use, unlike your kind who forcefully cut them down. In a way, you can say our weapons are blessed and aids us a lot in battles. Why do you think we don’t sell them to humans?" There was reverence in his tone as he thought about the wonders of his realm.

Andre continued, teaching her. "That is to say, you have to stop thinking of the bow as a weapon, but rather another extension of your arm. You don’t force it. You direct it."

He guided her, his touch light but firm. "Your stance is perfect already" — Andre’s chest was pressed against her back and he spoke directly into her ear, which was a bit distracting.

"Eyes on the target," he commanded, and Islinda struggled not to be distracted by his proximity. Andre was just giving her instructions, she told herself.

Islinda took a deep breath and the world around her faded away, leaving only the bow, the arrow, the target in her mind’s eye and Andre’s voice in her ear.

"Fire." He said.

She let go. Heart pounding.

The arrow soared through the air with a satisfying whoosh, hitting the target dead center. Islinda couldn’t suppress a triumphant grin as she turned to Andre.

"Told you," Andre grinned, staring at her.

Suddenly, the air shifted around them, and it was at that moment Islinda realized how close they were. She looked up at Andre, and that was a mistake. She had seen that darkened look a million times in Aldric’s eyes. It finally dawned on her. Andre was sexually attracted to her. Oh Fuck.

However, before Islinda could say a word, a deep, authoritative voice echoed from behind, "Why don’t we make this more interesting? Care for a little friendly competition, brother?"