Page 58 of Chosen By the Fae King

I shook my head slowly. “I feel sorry for you.”

“You? You feel sorry for me??” she hissed between clenched teeth.

“Yes. Not all of us want to be the queen. You make enemies where there are none.”

I notched another arrow, keeping it pointed to the ground. “Now, if you'll excuse me, this magicless farmer is trying to figure out how to not get killed so I can make it back to my land when this mess is over.”

I released the arrow, laughing when it hit the center of her target. Pure dumb luck, but it felt fantastic. I probably owed the gods for the small blessing.

Zoriyah's aura disappeared from my back and I sighed. I didn't fear her. She'd probably still try to kill me but not today.

Sofiya brushed by and squeezed my shoulder. “That was fabulous,” she praised.

The rest of the contestants went back to their spots on the range. I'd just missed the target once more when I noticed Astrid looking down the range at the results of my scattered performance.

Without looking at me, she spoke. “It's not because she deems you weak, Aeryn.”

“What do you mean?”

“Zoriyah's problem isn't that you don't have access to your well-store. Or your profession. Or even that you're protective of others. Those are just the soft spots to target her aim.”

Astrid bent and picked up an arrow to hand to me. When my hand wrapped around the shaft, she didn't let go. I looked into her midnight eyes, earnest and dark.

She leaned in and dropped her voice. “It's because of how the king looks at you. She knows she could win the throne but not the heart of the male she's coveted for years. And that, my friend, is a far bigger threat to you than anything else.”

Astrid let go and went back to her station to my right. Stupefied, I stared at her dumbly.

“Oh, and Aeryn?” she called as she pulled back her bowstring.

“Yes?”

“Stop thinking so hard.”

Her arrow whizzed through the air, striking dead center. “It doesn't have to hit the bullseye. And it won't if you think too much about it.”

She shot another arrow, this time at my target, breaking the arrow I'd landed closest to center. “Once you know the mechanics, instinct has to take over. If you have to act quickly, instinct will be all you have.”

“I don't have time to perfect the mechanics, Astrid.”

“No, you don't.”

I snorted and she grinned at me. The first one to reach her eyes since we arrived.

“So what do I do?”

“You still rely on your instincts, but with a weapon that's familiar to you. And before you tell me you have no training, I'll remind you that almost anything can be turned into a weapon. Even a glass vase. You seemed to handle that just fine. No, don't talk. Just think on it. It will come to you.”

Right. Of course. It will just come to me.

After another twenty minutes, Eirik ordered us to switch to daggers, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd been throwing knives at trees and the occasional pest since I could hold one. I wasn't an expert, but I wouldn't make a fool of myself.

Once we'd wrapped up, I lingered after the others filed out of the training yard and asked Eirik for a little more time with target practice. He gave me an hour and looked uncomfortable when I thanked him profusely.

“Don't thank me, thank him,” he'd said, pointing at Lorne watching me from the entrance.

Thankfully, they both let me be and I was able to clear my head. Without the others around, I threw with my weaker arm just to see. It wasn't good, but I managed.

Trudging out of the yard, Lorne followed close behind. Why was he here?

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