She's an archer

Bruce had been watching Stephanie from a distance, to avoid being seen. He saw her walk towards the archers who were practicing. He could see their shocked expression and wondered what she had said to them. He heard her repeat, and he walked up to her, "pardon me, Milady, but did I just hear you right?" He could see determination burning in her eyes. She insisted, and he could only agree to her request. He ordered one of the archers to bring a bow and an arrow. "He is the best archer, he will teach—"

"No, I do not need any teacher. I'm not inexperienced. Just watch and see," she firmly said. The new side of her shocked Bruce, be wished Michael was here to see his wife. She looked bold and feisty. She aimed at the bull's eye, and in a blink, she hit it, right there, at the spot— so accurately. You might think she is a professional Archer and had won many awards, Nationwide.

Bruce and the others present, stood in awe as they watched her aim accurately, focusing on her target. She enjoyed it so much, that she didn't realize she had been practicing for more than an hour. Her grumbling stomach distracted her, and was loud enough for everyone to hear. They giggled and began applauding. "Milady, that was a great job, I never knew you were this good. With the way you aimed perfectly, it seems like you had a lot of training," Bruce complimented. "Thank you, Bruce. I didn't have the time to train. Let's say I'm gifted— talented, rather." She chuckled, and walked past him, to freshen up. "She is gifted, scarlet hair, blue eyes… Only one with the ice power possess all these, but I don't sense any power from her," Bruce said loudly to himself. He walked back to meet Michael and tease him again.

Stephanie had her fifteen minutes bath, and ate her dinner, alone. Again. She sighed as she stared at the door, hoping he would walk in through that door. She ate her food silently, and lay down, staring at the ceiling, lost in her thoughts. Michael finally walked in through the door, he didn't glance at her, he made his way to the bathroom. He had not seen her for almost a whole day, it felt like a year to him. He had been thinking about her, and hardly paid attention in the meeting. He had risen early in the morning, to avoid the incident reoccurring. He rushed back to meet Bruce, immediately the meeting was over. "How is she?" He asked. "Relax, she's fine. Totally fine," he continued, "you can't even ask how I am." Michael glared at him, and he chuckled. "She's a great archer, you know. If you had seen her, you'd be so proud. Her shots were so accurate, she looked like—"

"The bruise?" Michael cut him off, he felt jealous that he didn't see her in her other side. "Sorry. There was a faint mark, it was no longer green, but red. Nothing serious, right?"

"I'm surprised, it was coated with poison, that's why it was green, and it would take a week or more to heal— to turn red, for a normal human being." They were both confused. "But I don't sense any power from her, she's just like an ordinary girl."

He couldn't wait to, at least, see her face. Even if they don't get along, seeing her face always made him light-hearted. When he opened the door, he saw her in a blue lingerie, as she lay on her back. She seemed lost in thought, she didn't notice his presence. He felt hot, and dashed to the bathroom. He came out, dripping wet. He dried his hair, and wore his pajamas. He lay beside her, startling her. "Oops," she muttered. "Why do you always flinch when it comes to me? You don't act this way with others." The last sentence was more of a statement. He moved closer, she gasped and pull the sheets over her body, "you… You won't touch me, would you?"

"I am your husband, and I…" He paused. "I'll sleep somewhere else, until you're ready." He zoomed off quickly.

She ran out to call him back. He was her husband, after all. She can't deny him his rights. She held the doorknob tightly, staring at the now, closed door. "So that's what he does? Every time he sleeps out," she said to herself, as she saw the half naked girls going into his study. She felt her vision become blurry, she clutched her robe tightly and ran to the garden. She sat in the middle and cried. She was hurt, angry, sad, jealous. She let her emotions out, she screamed in pain, and a heavy downpour of rain fell, drenching her, but she cared less. No one could go near her, it seemed as though something was obstructing them. They wondered what the prince did to her.

Bruce had sensed trouble and decided to speak with Michael. He saw him zoom to his study. He was about to follow him when he saw Stephanie. Her gaze was locked on his study, he followed her gaze, and saw a few sluts— as he called them, going inside his study. "This is a misunderstanding." He tried to approach her, but he saw her run away. He saw a faint glow exuding from her body, and the heavy rain fell on her. He knocked on the door, "Prince Michael, you need to see this." Michael frowned, he could feel the urgency in his words. He froze the moment he saw her sitting in the middle of the garden, drenched.

He ran towards her, and she turned to look at him. "Do you want to get sick?"

"Why do you care? Shouldn't you be f*cking the bitches that came to pleasure you in your study?" She paused, "so that's what you do every night you sleep out," she said. He had never seen her angry. Bitches? Study? It dawned on him that she misunderstood him. He was infuriated when they came in, he yelled at them and sent them away. "This is a misunderstanding. You'll get sick if—" he tried to convince her to leave the rain. Her next action, not only shocked him, but everyone else. "Leave. Me. Alone!" She yelled, as the thought of being pleasured by another woman crossed her mind. Her heart was crushed to pieces, the thunder struck, and she fainted.

"Oh, no!"