19 Nostalgic

"Bring a towel and follow me."

The door burst open, making Freya jolt. She shifted her gaze to the king who dropped his icy order and walked away. Sprinting to the nearest bedchamber, she brought a towel and ran through the corridor. Catching a glimpse of the king's body descending the stairs, her tense body relaxed a little.

'What will he do?' she thought. Many bad thoughts swarmed through her mind. Remembering when he summoned her to follow him, its outcome was neither pleasant nor good.

She ran to him, halting her speed when she neared him. After successive deep breaths, she mastered her courage and said, "Your majesty, if I did something wrong, please ignore it."

The raging king turned his face to her. His eyes peered at her as if it would burn her. Freya gulped but kept a straight expression. In her childhood, she learned to hunt to support her mother as they were poor. The fear she felt at the start vanished with continuous practice. Facing the king resembled facing prey. If she allowed fear to control her, Freya would not exist at this moment.

The king turned forward and strode away, leaving her dumbly. 'Did I see him smiling?' she screamed internally. 'No, I will end badly! I did nothing dire last week. I served him silently.' Pondering on what she did wrong. Freya noticed they were heading to a different side from the terrifying prison. Freya's tensed shoulders dropped and her lips curved.

She shuffled into a sable-covered training ground. Knights spread over a large space, duelling with each other while their supervisors watched them. They assembled to greet the king in a union earth-shattering voice. The king blended with them, talking to them, choosing a group of young men and fighting with them. His movements were agile and fast.

Basked under the scorching sun, he yielded his sword with ease and familiarity. In one strike, a knight would cry from pain. Then he would encourage them to continue combating. His firm voice carried authority.

'He is wonderful. No wonder he pursues a war path from childhood.' Sensing her lips curved ungenuinely, Freya pinched her leg.

"Hi, little mouse." A familiar face popped into her sight, making her frown. Freya altered her gaze to the brawl. "Why are you ignoring me?" he said, snickering. His tough tanned face and burly figure mismatched his bubbly behaviour.

'Why is he such a sticky person?'

"Greeting, Sir Knight," she said, forcing a smile.

"My name is Hank Asther," he said, shuffling away, soon after he brought two red apples with him, munching one while standing beside her. The chomping sound irked her; she looked at him strangely, receiving a glare from him. "Do you want some?" he asked, offering her a red appetizing apple. Freya shook her head and sighed, distancing herself from him.

"Do you have an interest in warfare?" he asked.

'Annoying!' she thought. They were not by any chance, close to chat.

"No," she answered.

The silly grin on his face vanished as he asked, "Are you sure you don't know how to fight?"

"I learnt some moves to fend for myself many years ago," she answered. There was no need to hide her knowledge of fighting techniques.

"Why don't you fight with me?" he asked.

Freya raised a brow at his blatant request. "I don't want to," she declined.

"Why?" he asked pitifully.

"I am sure I will lose. I haven't practised it for years," she answered just for the man to stop asking more questions.

"Do you know how to use a sword?" Freya shook her head. "Any other weapons?" he asked again, spitting the apple seeds.

Freya pressed her lips together. "I know a little about using a bow," she replied. "Did your questions end?" she said impatiently. He flew out of the training ground at a fast speed.

Freya took a deep sigh of relief and continued to watch the duel between the king and another skilful knight. After a moment of solace, Hank came back, holding a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other while biting an apple.

'Is he sane?' Just looking at the scene proved her the opposite.

"Take," he said, handing her the bow and arrow while taking the towel from her and giving it to another knight. "Let's observe your skill," he said.

"Tell me you're joking," she said, not believing what she heard.

Hank's black eyes were firm as he said, "I never joked in learning matters."

Freya stared at the arrow in her hand, feeling nostalgic. "It's been a lot of time since I practised shooting," she murmured. Looking at the wooden, well-craved bow and arrow evoked a massive emotional burst.

She remembered the first time she held a bow. It was similar to the one she owned. Tightening her grip on the bow, depending on her body's reflex, she took a shooting position.

"Not bad," Hank's voice took her out of her thoughts. A sense of pride swelled from the bottom of her heart.

"Shoot the target, and I will tell you a secret about the king," he said, whispering the last word, pointing at the apple over his head.

Freya's eyes opened. 'This man is baffling! But the offer is appealing.' Pondering for a while, "And what if I missed it?" she asked.

"You'll tell me a secret about yourself no one knew," he said.

"Deal," she said. Even if she missed the target, she would tell him a secret Felma held, nor her. Taking her position and examining the target, she released the arrow from its clutch.

"Wai—"

The arrow grazed the outer skin of the apple and went away in the king's direction…

Freya froze in her spot. Everything went fast. The arrow pierced a knight causing him to fall while blood oozed from his wound. Her surrounding became deadly silent. The hand holding the wooden bow lost its power, letting it fall with a thud.

"Capture her."

Here came the king's cold voice.

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What do you think so far? Comment and let me know. Happy reading. Do you prefer the ML POV or the FLs?