Angela drew the string of the bow back as the arrow pressed against the slim string, then let it go to hit her target: the bullseye. She repeated the action as though angered, with the arrow being the only thing keeping her sane.
The wind ruffled her shoulder-length curly blonde hair, and her blue eyes shone with determination under the sunlight as she pulled back and released. She sighed when all her arrows had been shot except for the one in her hand. Positioning herself for another target, she suddenly felt the hair on her back rise and goosebumps spread across her skin. Alerted, Angela whipped her body around and shot the arrow.
Zayden, at whom the arrow was aimed, held it between his fingers. With his gigantic frame, the arrow looked like a cigarette between his fingers. He tilted his head, still focused on the arrowhead, as though he didn't recognize the stick. "Perfect shot, princess," he said, standing a full five feet away from Angela, yet she could hear his deep voice as he stood there, staring at the object in his hand. "But I'm faster." He flashed a handsome smile and stealthily walked toward her. Angela could've sworn that if she hadn't seen him move with her own eyes, she wouldn't have believed the man was walking. He came to a stop at a respectful distance.
"Who are you?" Angela asked, narrowing her eyes at him, even though his looks could put both genders to shame. She noticed his pointy ears—he was an elf.
She guessed he stood taller than six feet. His black hair was parted in the middle and tied back in a ponytail, giving him both a striking beauty and a rugged handsomeness. His full, arched eyebrows framed his chiseled face, and his glowing amethyst eyes sparkled beneath long lashes that she wished to tear out and put in hers. His dark, kissable lips curved into a smirk as he spoke, his angular jaw accentuating his features. A diamond stud adorned his ears. The sun complemented his dark skin, and she noticed he wore a plain white button-up shirt tucked in the front but not the back, along with black pants. Angela watched him drop the arrow to the ground and hold his hands behind him.
"You're good at it," he told her, widening his smile as she scoffed.
"Of course I am. I'm better at many things because I'm locked up in my house," she shrugged, holding his stare, trying her best not to let her gaze wander. She had always been a sucker for handsome men.
"Of course." He let out a small rumble of laughter. "You're also good at running, I guess, princess?" He tilted his head, watching her eyes roll. She was beautiful—one of the most stunning women he had ever seen. Short curly blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes. Fair skin with noticeable red moles on her face. Pink lips like cherries and ears adorned with small round earrings. She wore a knee-length gown with a coat draped over her shoulders.
"You must've heard about me." She sighed and walked to the stool nearby, dropping the archer kit. "New bodyguard?" she asked as she walked back to her previous position, moving just a foot forward.
"New bodyguard," he confirmed, noticing her lips twitch.
"You're still going to leave anyway, like the others," she stated matter-of-factly, as if she were already expecting it. Other bodyguards who had previously guarded her all left.
"If I may ask, why did they leave, princess?" His deep voice sent shivers up her spine. Though it was a simple question, it didn't feel so simple to Angela.
"I'm not a princess." She glanced at her father's mansion. It was a mansion, not a castle. Couldn't he see properly?
"My lady, then?" he asked with a gorgeous smile that revealed a dimple for her to admire. Angela gulped, and Zayden's eyes flickered to her throat before returning to her face.
"They left because they couldn't handle me. That's it." Angela decided to leave his question on how he should address her unanswered. He knew what he was doing, and she knew it too. "So you will leave too. I'm the most stubborn nineteen-year-old my parents ever had." She spoke as if she were calling herself pretty. She didn't find her words demeaning; he shouldn't either.
"Mm." He slowly nodded. "Most stubborn nineteen-year-old..." He drew out the words, and Angela could swear it wouldn't take long to leave someone else's lips. "Do you have other siblings?"
She nodded, her gaze dropping to his chest before returning to his face. If he knew what she was thinking, he didn't show it. "You were hired by my father, yet you didn't know he had other children? I have a sister, though my older brother is dead." She paused, waiting for his expression to change to something pitiful. It didn't; the smile remained on his lips.
What type of elf was this?
"A pity. His soul should rest in peace." Wasn't it usually "May his soul rest in peace?" He spoke the prayer as if granting it himself. Strange man. "Now, princess, if you wouldn't mind us going back inside the mansion? You're sweaty." It wasn't something a man should tell a woman, but he did anyway.
"Fine." She shrugged. "Let's go."