The Sudden Attack

Bowen stood steadfast at the perimeter of the encampment, his keen eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. He was stationed with Collias and eight other guards, all tasked with the protection of Princess Alita. The forest around them was dense and alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves.

The princess was inside the large, lavishly decorated tent, and though he couldn't see her directly, Bowen could envision her bored expression. As he imagined her delicate features, the serenity of the moment was shattered by Collias' intrusive presence.

"Hey, Bowen," Collias said, sidling up to him with a grin that Bowen found irritating. "I think the lord is quite taken with the princess."

Bowen huffed, trying to maintain his focus. "Taken, my foot!"

Collias chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. "He steadied her on her feet and gave her a flower, which she refused to accept. I think the princess is hard to please."

Bowen didn't reply immediately, his mind drifting back to the secret conversation he had overheard between Lord Philippe and Princess Alita. Philippe's words had been full of hidden meaning, and it had taken every ounce of Bowen's self-control not to react then and there. Philippe was a man of influence and charm, If the king had chosen him personally to escort the princess to the hunting ground, that means he wasn't from a poor background.

"If I were the princess," Collias continued, his tone lighter, "I would give in to the lord's advances immediately. I thought females loved handsome males like the lord."

Bowen's jaw tightened. "Not all women are swayed by looks alone, Collias. Some see through the charm and seek something deeper."

Collias raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Bowen's intensity. "Oh, really? And what might the princess see in you, Bowen? A gruff exterior and a permanent scowl?"

Bowen turned sharply to face Collias, his eyes blazing. "I do not know the princess that much, Collias."

Collias flashed Bowen a cunning grin, "Most females are swayed by looks, for instance Ginger and that maid that came over to you. Oh Bowen, I love you, can you take me? I am willing to have you," mimicking Ginger.

Bowen's thoughts were clouded with frustration. Beside him, Collias continued his incessant chatter, oblivious to Bowen's growing irritation.

"Handsome males who are good and charming—that's what women want, right?" Bowen said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He didn't bother to mask his disdain for the superficial qualities that seemed to captivate so many.

Collias shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "In her position, the princess shouldn't be this picky. She should just submit to him. When she does, she'll have somebody who will take her regardless of her heritage."

Bowen's temper flared. The condescension in Collias' words was too much to bear. He turned to face him, his eyes narrowing. "Go back to your position, Collias. You're beginning to bother me."

Collias raised an eyebrow, his smirk never wavering. "Annoying male," he muttered as he walked back to his post, leaving Bowen simmering with anger.

Bowen's thoughts turned inward, grappling with the underlying prejudice that colored so many of their interactions. "What is wrong with being a half-blood? Why do these people treat her like she is an abomination?" he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching in frustration.

Princess Alita was more than the sum of her heritage. She was intelligent, curvy, and breathtakingly beautiful—perfect in every sense. Bowen couldn't understand why others failed to see these qualities. It seemed to him that he was the only one who truly appreciated her strength, her grace, and her indomitable spirit.

The bratty Lord Philippe, with his false charm and cunning smile, was only pretending to be nice to Alita. Bowen could see through the façade, but why couldn't anyone else?

Alita sat inside the luxurious confines of her tent, Despite the calm around her, she felt a pang of frustration. She had always longed to join her father in the hunt, to feel the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction of a successful kill. Yet, she knew her lack of skill with a bow would only slow him down.

She sighed, tracing her fingers over the patterns on the tent's fabric. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden cry from outside. It was a cry of victory.

Curiosity piqued, Alita rose from her seat and stepped outside. She saw five guards dragging a large togiculo—a beast native to the forest, known for its size and ferocity. The arrows protruding from its chest and head bore the distinctive marks of her father's arrows.

A smile spread across her face. "It is a big one," she said, admiration in her voice.

King Aric, his chest puffed with pride, approached her. "Yes, it is," he responded, his voice filled with the satisfaction of the hunt.

Alita couldn't help but marvel at the animal, her smile widening. Her father was a skilled hunter. As she gazed at the beast, her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, sharp whistling sound.

Her eyes snapped to the source of the noise, and she saw an arrow slicing through the air, heading directly toward her. She was too stunned to move, her body frozen in place as her eyes widened in horror.

Everything seemed to slow down. The voices around her grew distant, and all she could focus on was the deadly arrow approaching her. Who wanted to harm her? And why?