Page 51 of Blood of Wolves

“I’m lifting,” Tessa hissed out between clenched teeth. But she tried a little harder, entire body straining against the torque of the bow, arms shaking, sweat sliding down her spine despite the cold.

She’d quickly found that there was a tremendous difference between being told that it took a great deal of strength to draw a bow, and actually trying it. Yesterday morning, during that first impromptu lesson, Estrid had – to Tessa’s embarrassment – gone into the armory and come out with a small recurve bow that she’d declared to be a child’s, smirking as she did so. “I think it was Rune’s when he was six.”

“Thank you,” Tessa had grumbled, cheeks burning in the face of Estrid’s chuckling.

But, despite the smirks and insults she couldn’t seem to suppress, Estrid proved a capable instructor – even if Tessa was a less than capable student.

“You’re holding it too long. Nock, draw, aim, loose.”

Tessa let go. The string let out a loud twang, and the arrow arced – too high, too slow. It landed at the very edge of the target, in the white, outside of the painted bullseye.

“Damn,” she muttered, more than a little shocked at herself; she didn’t curse, as a general rule, because it wasn’t ladylike.

But being a lady in the North wasn’t the same as back home, was it?

Estrid laughed – not unkindly. “Thereit is.”

Tessa rounded on her with a frown. “There what is?”

“Your backbone. I know you have one – you wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t – but you don’t like showing it, do you?”

Tessa scowled at her, and earned the sort of toothy grin only ever seen on the boys in Drakewell, never the demure, soft-handed ladies.

Well, save for Amelia. Tessa was struck by the idea that she and Estrid might actually be friends, if they ever met.

“Here.” Estrid grew serious, and asked for the bow with an open hand. When she had it, she plucked another arrow from the basket beside them, nocked, aimed, and loosed in one fluid, long-practiced movement.

“You make it look easy,” Tessa complained.

“Nothing’s easy: practice just makes it look that way.” She passed the bow back. “Try again. This time, don’t take so long aiming. Holding too long is a strain, and it throws off the trajectory.”

Tessa flexed her fingers and selected another arrow. She felt like she was rushing, like she wasn’t being careful enough. The muscles in her arms, back, and shoulders protested, burning – but the shot hit the outer ring of the bullseye this time.”

“That was better.”

But the praise hadn’t come from Estrid.

Tessa whipped around – Estrid did, too – and there stood Rune just inside the yard, arms folded, shoulder braced against the wall.

Tessa gasped.

Rune grinned, though his expression was overall puzzled. He glanced down the length of the yard, toward the target. “So this is what you were doing. Not quite what I imagined.”

Then his gaze shifted to Estrid, and the smile fell away. “Lady Estrid.”

Estrid bobbed a quick curtsy. “Your grace.” She made to leave.

Tessa grabbed at her sleeve, feeling almost desperate, suddenly. It wasn’t as if she’d been caught doing somethingwrong– she knew that, logically. At no point had anyone here made her feel like she couldn’t make decisions for herself; Revna had even begun her training.

But here she was attempting to learn Rune’s greatest skill, and she felt like she’d been sneaking around, somehow.

“Where are you going?” she whispered to Estrid.

“Back to bed.” She stepped forward, pulling her sleeve loose with a deft hitch of one shoulder. “You have a far more capable instructor at your disposal now.” She shot Tessa a smirk before walking off.

Leaving them alone.

Rune waited until she was gone, one last, dismissive glance cast at her back, his nostrils flaring – he really didn’t like her at all – before he walked forward to join Tessa, hands coming to rest on his belt. He tilted his head as he regarded her, and a thick lock of hair come loose from his simple topknot shifted against his jaw as he smirked at her. “Archery, huh?”

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