Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 670

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.

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. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

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."

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