My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18 The Archery Duel

Chapter 18 The Archery Duel

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At first, Princess Aurora had meant to humble the confident Duflanan lady before her, to prove the superiority of Brorchester with a single arrow.

However, Fiona’s unvarnished praise hit like fresh wind across a summer lake. Princess Aurora laughed a clear, hearty sound. “We all start as novices,” she said. “When I was young, my brothers mocked my clumsy seat. Believe me, I’ve no wish to be discourteous today.”

Riding and archery would be judged separately, with archery first.

Princess Aurora lifted a bow as tall as her waist, its limbs inlaid with the Brorchester Royal Family’s crest. The weapon looked carved from pure strength, a design usually reserved for seasoned men of war.

Fiona’s bow seemed crafted for elegance rather than force–slender limbs veined with delicate grain, a strip of dark emerald set into the back that shimmered beneath the sun. Any connoisseur would see it was a masterpiece.

From the sidelines, the Sixth Prince murmured with a half–smile, “What a waste of fine wood and emerald.”

To Zephyr, Fiona looked too fragile, too flawless, to ever bend a bow with real power. Placing such a treasure in her hands felt, to him, like wasting resources.

Drums rolled in thunderous cadence. The contest had begun.

Princess Aurora’s face remained an unbroken mask of calm. She braced the bow with her left hand, drew the string back with her right, and loosed. The shaft hissed across the range and buried itself, dead–center, in the bronze goblet. The impact rattled the cup so hard it quivered on its tray.

A wave of applause rang out–hands slapping, murmurs erupting, excitement rising like wind through tall grass.

“Magnificent!” shouted one of the Brorchester envoys, his voice swelling with patriotic pride.

Fiona found herself silently impressed. Even most men would struggle to land such a shot.

She knew that day’s contest was hers to lose, yet she also knew her own limits. Defeat would

but it need not be humiliating, Soren had trained her well.

come,

Her first arrow missed the goblet by a hair’s breadth, skimming the rim before spinning away. Precision, at least, matched Princess Aurora’s. Power might not.

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Chapter 18 The Archery Duel

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The spectators, taken by surprise, leaned forward. Her form was fluid, almost dance–like, turning archery into a spectacle. Gasps replaced whispers as they realized that Fiona was no ordinary court lady.

Emperor Aldric laughed, pleased beyond measure. “I appear to have underestimated this lady from the Niven family. Ten short days and she already shoots like this–astonishing talent!”

The Sixth Prince arched a brow, newfound interest flickering in his gaze. Mastering archery demanded punishing discipline; the contrast between Fiona’s pampered appearance and her grit intrigued him.

Across the lawn, Soren’s surprise quickly cooled into calculation. One glance told him Fiona’s technique could not have formed in ten days. Whoever coached her had invested patience and method, channeling every hidden advantage.

On her second arrow, his eyes narrowed. She used a clever, elastic release—a signature maneuver he had devised in solitary practice.

No one else knew that trick. So how has she learned it? Soren rubbed the bridge of his nose, suspicion coiling tighter. Fiona could never have placed a spy near him, but Helen might.

If the Princess Royal’s family truly meant to meddle in succession politics, he would need to guard every flank.

Each archer loosed ten arrows. Princess Aurora planted six cleanly in the cup. Fiona, after a shaky start, found her rhythm and drove home three. She lost the match, yet her poise transformed defeat into quiet honor.

Emperor Aldric could not contain his delight. “Well done!”

“Ms. Niven, you are full of surprises,” Princess Aurora said, amusement dancing in her eyes. The contest had proved far livelier than she expected.

“Princess Aurora, you broadened my horizons today. Your skill surpasses many a seasoned soldier, Fiona replied, genuine admiration coloring her words.

“Now I look forward to our test of horsemanship even more,” Princess Aurora uttered.

Recognition from Princess Aurora warmed Fiona’s heart, and she smiled–until she caught Soren watching from a distance, his expression cool and probing. The smile thinned, awareness dawning like a chill breeze.

That was when she remembered that Soren and Xavier had both trained under Gavin. Even if Soren sensed something amiss, Xavier could serve as her shield. The thought steadied her pulse.

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When the riders finally thundered onto the course, Fiona’s performance in the saddle proved every bit as solid as her archery.

High in the saddle, Fiona guided her stallion across the clearing, the afternoon sun flashing along the arc of her raised riding crop. Dust swirled behind the hooves, catching the light like sparks struck from flint. She rode with the reckless certainty of a veteran cavalryman. Yet, every lean of her waist, every snap of her dark hair, carried a softness no man could imitate, a contradiction that dragged every eye toward her.

From the viewing stand, Zephyr felt his pulse plummet to his heels. A single cup of iced tea cooled the fever that raced through his veins, reminding him that the autumn hunt had already stretched on for two restless weeks.

He had been so easily tempted lately. The dancers of the last banquet still haunted his midnight fantasies; he had even ordered one traced to her quarters, only to find an ordinary girl where the vision had once burned bright.

Soren kept a watchful orbit around the lists, and under that silent protection, not a single mishap marred the match.

The contest was pure horsemanship. Though Fiona could not quite out–ride Princess Aurora, her nimble handling of the reins drew admiring murmurs that softened the narrow margin of

defeat.

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