Sierra glanced over to Agnes. She had barely touched Myra's bow. How would she have been able to do anything to it? Archery was about skill, but it also happened to require a little luck. A sudden gust of wind could change the course of a perfectly shot arrow.
"What evidence do you have, Princess Agnes?" Myra asked.
She could not take the way Agnes was speaking about Sierra. It was as if she hated Sierra with a passion from the get-go.
"I saw it, we all saw it, did we not? And you!" Agnes walked up closer and pointed her finger at Sierra as she continued to make accusations, "You distracted me while I shot the last arrow! You caused me to miss the mark!"
Sierra widened her eyes, pretending to be in shock as she used her hands to cover her mouth.
"My sincerest apologies, your Highness. So it was I who caused you to miss the target completely?"
Surprised by Sierra's response, Agnes wasn't sure of how to reply at first. But she quickly regained her composure, "Ye...Yes! It's your fault!"
Sierra walked over to Agnes and stood just inches before her. There was an aura that surrounded Sierra, one she could not quite describe. It sent shivers down her spine.
"How about we have a bit of a competition?" Sierra suggested as the end of her lips coiled upwards.
"I'll even give you the advantage if you like. You get five arrows and I'll get three," she dared Agnes.
The rules were simple, each of them aimed for the target and shot their arrows. The outest most ring was one point, leading to the center bull's eye would be worth ten points. Agnes gritted her teeth in anger at Sierra's cocky attitude.
She desperately wanted to kick her off her high horse. Without much hesitation, she agreed to the challenge. After all, was it really possible to get three bull's eyes with three shots? Agnes did not think so.
But there was still a question. Who was going to be the judge of their little competition? Myra volunteered but she was quickly dismissed by Agnes.
"That won't be fair, you'll clearly side with Sierra," she protested.
Anyone who sided with Agnes wasn't a good candidate either. The other princesses were not skilled with a bow, they would not make for a just judge.
"I'll be the judge."
A male voice cut through their conversation. Everyone turned to look in the direction of the voice. As soon as they saw who it was, all of them immediately lowered their heads and curtsied.
Even Agnes, who looked furious with Sierra just a moment ago, changed into a completely different person. Her expression softened and a smile formed on her face. She gracefully curtsied and lowered her head, but not forgetting to glance up at the man who was coming in their direction.
Sierra looked over. Before she could say anything, Myra gently pulled on the sleeve of her blouse. Sierra was about to get down on one knee when she remembered she was a princess. Like the others, she curtsied.
But her curiosity got the better for her, she looked up to see who this man was. Putting the pieces of the puzzle together in her mind, it did not take Sierra long to realize this masked man riding on a horse was none other than King Alistair.
Why did he look so familiar to her?
Apart from the shimmering gold crown that rest on his head and the regal attire he wore, the mask he wore made him look like Silas, the man she met at the Queen's ball.
As he came closer, Sierra almost dropped her jaw when she noticed those familiar-looking dark red pupils. His chiseled chin and high cheekbones once mesmerized her on a moonlit night.
It cannot be... Sierra thought in her mind.
Myra was too stunned to speak. Looking at the King without permission was punishable by death. She closed her eyes as she began to shake in fear, praying to the gods above hoping that the King would be lenient for once.
She feared for Sierra's life.
But her prayers were unanswered. King Alistair got off his horse and walked amongst the princesses and maids. He was walking towards Sierra, she could see his shoes getting nearer and nearer until they stopped before them.
Myra gulped as she closed her eyes, hoping for a miracle.
Sierra was too stunned to speak or move. She could not stop looking at the man before her mind pieced together the identity of the two men she had met before, matching them to the King who stood before her.
At first, King Alistair had chosen to ride away from the Crescent Lodge. But when he heard the cheers and remembered Sierra was amongst them, he found himself drawn to it. When they got close enough and he heard they were looking for someone to judge an archery contest, he was intrigued.
When he realized Sierra was one of the two competing, it piqued his interest even more than ever. He finally got to meet her face to face, as himself once more. The only thing that hid his face was the mask he wore.
"Is there something on my face, Princess Sierra?" Alistair asked with a wide grin on his face.
Sierra almost fell backward, shocked that he was speaking to her directly. It took her another few moments to realize he was standing right in front of her. They had also locked eyes for the entire duration, or so she suspected.
She quickly averted her gaze, looking back down at the ground when she realized what she had done.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I...you..." she stuttered, unable to speak in full sentences.
"Please punish me as you deem fit, Your Majesty," she finally said, giving up on defending her actions.
"Punish, you say?" Alistair echoed her words as he grinned, the cogs in his mind churned as he wondered what sort of punishment would be suitable.