Page 25 of A Fate so Wicked

“On my cue,” the courtier announced.

Kelvin and Aeron positioned their bows.

“Three. Two?—”

A bell chimed indicating ‘one,’ and they let their arrows fly with a collective sigh.

Aeron’s arrow barely landed on the edge of the board while Kelvin’s hit a perfect bullseye. They bumped knuckles once more as Aeron made his walk of shame back into the line.

I contained my amusement—happy to see his ego fall a couple of notches.

“Martell Colt,” the courtier announced next.

The bow was as large as he was, but his strength surprised me. His draw back was strong and steady.

“On my cue.”

They unleashed their arrows at the bell, and Martell hit inside the inner circle with his, much better than Aeron’s pathetic attempt. It was a strike to take pride in—at the very least—a notable accomplishment, if they were in any other setting.

However, that didn’t matter, as, once again, Kelvin landed a perfect bullseye.

As he did again and again.

And again.

Beating out Calandra, Lewis, Breana, and Irving.

“Elowyn Rosewood,” my name rang throughout the throne room, and I became lightheaded.

Approaching the mark, a tense silence suffocated my throat, and my breath hung in the air, caught between anticipation and trepidation. The fine hairs on my arms stood at attention, my skin prickling with the fear that coursed through me.

The bow was much heavier than I expected when I eventually picked it up—and the string damn near immovable. I let my breathing even out.

“On my cue.”

Lifting the bow up, I drew the string back to my chin, my fingertips gripping it with a desperate intensity as if clinging to a lifeline. The subtle creak of the tensioned bowstring resonated in the air.

“Three.”

My fingers slipped, and my arrow went flying, ricocheting off an invisible force and back toward me. I dodged out of the way.

The tip missed me by mere inches as it lodged into the ground next to my head.

I squeezed my eyelids shut, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground below. But I refused to let them see me falter.

The fae court didn’t hold back their laughter as I stood up and walked back to the line, my chin up and focused on the wall ahead, forcing tears to stay at bay.

Sage and Jeston’s turn went by in a flash, neither of them losing control of their arrow, although neither one of them beat Kelvin, either. His name had a resounding nine tally marks beside it. Everyone else with nothing.

“Kelvin, you may approach the rope next.”

I licked the cut on my lip, savoring the sting that accompanied it. A welcome distraction from my bruised ego when I caught Talon’s glare. His eyes swept over me in a dismissive motion, as if the sight of me disgusted him, and I huffed a laugh—the feeling mutual.

Turning my attention back to the assessment, Kelvin and Aeron climbed the ropes, up and up, until they grabbed the flag. It was Aeron who had reigned supreme this round, and each round after that.

Until he went against Calandra.

He checked her up and down as she approached as if he was thinking, ‘Give me someone challenging to go against.’

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