Astor quickly noticed his brother's foul mood. Edmund, who had always openly despised Astor, now looked at him with more than disdain: a silent and growing anger. It was as if the mere fact that Selene showed even superficial interest in Astor was a personal insult to Edmund.
Astor, true to his role, pretended clumsiness whenever he felt his brother's gaze on him. At one point, he even let the reins slip from his hands, forcing his horse to come to an abrupt stop. On another occasion, he feigned losing his balance, clutching at the animal's neck with a panicked expression.
However, while he carried out his premeditated acts of ineptitude, his mind was fully alert. He couldn't help but wonder why Selene insisted on provoking Edmund in this manner. Was it a strategy to unsettle him? Was she testing Edmund? Or perhaps she knew more than she let on?
Astor knew that Selene was no ordinary woman. The way she spoke, moved, and even directed her words toward him had a purpose. She wasn't just a warrior—she was also a strategist. He couldn't dismiss the possibility that she knew he was the archer who had attacked her. Maybe she was testing him, waiting for him to slip up.
That possibility kept him in a constant state of tension. He had spent years hiding his true self, pretending weakness and clumsiness, but Selene seemed capable of seeing through that façade.
"Why?" he wondered over and over. "What does she want from me?"
As his mind churned through every detail of Selene's actions, Edmund, who could no longer bear how Astor was stealing Selene's attention, approached him to mock him.
"Do you need someone to hold your hand, Astor?" Edmund teased, seeing his brother nearly fall, prompting laughter from some of the soldiers.
"Sorry," Astor murmured, keeping his head down.
Astor adjusted himself awkwardly on the horse, his posture clumsy and his head slightly bowed, projecting an image of nervousness and resignation. The murmurs and suppressed laughter among the soldiers surrounded him like a constant hum, but he didn't react. Instead, he lowered his gaze and apologized again.
"I deeply apologize for my incompetence," he said to the group, his tone low and timid.
Edmund, riding a few steps ahead, didn't miss the chance to continue mocking him, channeling all his frustration.
"Next time, we'll get you a pony," he exclaimed with a laugh, turning his head to ensure everyone heard his remark. "That way, if you fall, at least you won't hurt yourself."
The soldiers laughed along with Edmund, enjoying the spectacle, while Astor simply feigned a faint smile, as though he had no choice but to accept the humiliation.
"Enough," Selene said, her sharp voice cutting through the laughter.
The group fell silent instantly, their gazes turning toward the baroness. Selene stopped her horse and looked at Edmund with a neutral expression, though her gray eyes seemed to analyze everything with cold precision.
"You're right, Lord Edmund," Selene continued, her tone measured. "If we keep at this pace, we'll never arrive. We'll have to lend your brother a hand."
Everyone assumed Selene would order Astor to return to the castle or have him ride with one of the soldiers. But what happened next left everyone, including Astor, completely stunned.
Selene dismounted her horse with an agile movement and motioned for one of her men to take the reins. Then, with a determined stride, she walked toward Astor.
"I'll make sure he keeps up myself," she declared as she approached.
Before anyone could protest, Selene mounted Astor's horse with the ease of someone accustomed to handling war steeds. The tight space forced Selene to sit behind him, placing her arms around his torso to take hold of the reins.
The reaction was immediate. Some soldiers let out whistles of astonishment and laughter, while others exchanged incredulous looks. Edmund, however, remained silent, his face hardening as he gripped the reins so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"What is she doing?" someone murmured in the formation, low enough not to be heard by Selene.
Astor was just as bewildered. He felt the pressure of Selene's arms around his body, and although he maintained his nervous expression, his mind was working frantically. Why was she doing this? What did she gain by humiliating Edmund in this way and positioning herself so close to him—someone she might consider suspicious?
As the group resumed their march, Selene leaned her head slightly toward Astor, her lips just a few inches from his ear.
"Curious," she whispered, her voice low enough for only him to hear. "Your height matches perfectly with that of the archer who tried to kill me."
Astor felt his pulse quicken. His mind sounded alarms, but his façade didn't break. He lowered his head a bit, as if too embarrassed or confused to respond.
"Pardon?" he asked, his voice hesitant and laden with feigned innocence.
Selene kept her tone soft, her voice smooth but brimming with intent.
"Your height… and your build. But I suppose that doesn't mean much. You're far too clumsy to be someone so precise."
Astor let out a nervous laugh, leaning forward slightly as if trying to increase the distance between them.
"Yes… I'm very clumsy. I can barely handle this horse, and you've already seen my archery skills—they're not very good."
Selene didn't respond immediately, but her silence was just as intimidating. Finally, she spoke, though her tone carried a hint of doubt.
"There's something curious about you, Astor. It's hard to believe someone with your level of ineptitude would choose such an extravagant weapon as a bow. It seems… odd."
Selene's words weighed heavily on Astor. She was doubting him, but she wasn't certain of anything. That fact reassured him, though not completely. He knew Selene was shrewd and persistent; any inconsistency in his act could be enough to confirm her suspicions.
Astor relaxed his shoulders, adopting a defeated posture.
"Since I was young, I've been useless at everything," he murmured, lowering his gaze. "No matter what I try, I always fail. Archery is no different, but I wanted to give it a shot. Though, it seems I'm only good at failing."
Selene remained silent for a few moments, her cold eyes fixed on the horizon. Astor felt her scrutinizing not just his words, but every gesture and pause. Finally, she let out a faint sigh.
"Maybe you're right," she said, gripping the reins more firmly. "No one could fake being so perfectly clumsy."
Astor let out an internal sigh of relief, though his face still showed a nervous expression. He had passed the test, for now.
From his position at the front of the group, Edmund threw furious glances back at them, his eyes filled with restrained rage. To him, the scene was humiliating. Selene, the woman he was trying to woo, was sitting behind his useless younger brother as if protecting him—or worse, flirting with him.
The tension in the group was palpable with every step of the journey, Edmund clearly on the verge of losing control. The soldiers, though they didn't dare laugh openly, exchanged glances and knowing smirks, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
Astor, for his part, maintained his role perfectly. Clumsy, timid, confused. But inside, he was analyzing everything happening around him.
Selene had won this small psychological battle. She had humiliated Edmund without raising her voice and, at the same time, placed Astor under closer scrutiny. It was a reminder that she was not someone to be underestimated.
The tension between them was palpable—at least for Astor. He knew Selene was still analyzing his every move and word. But he was also analyzing her. Every action, every glance, every word from Selene was carefully cataloged in his mind.
Finally, Astor decided to take a risk. Though it was dangerous to show even a glimmer of insight, he thought the context made the question seem natural. Besides, his role as the clumsy one didn't preclude noticing something so obvious.
"Lady Selene," he said quietly, his tone timid but clear enough for her to hear, "why are you… provoking Edmund?"
Selene didn't respond immediately. The question was direct, unexpected, and Astor felt her posture straighten slightly behind him. For a moment, he feared he had gone too far. But then, Selene let out a soft sigh.
"Provoking him?" she repeated, as if considering the word. Her tone was neutral, but there was a hint of interest. Astor knew he had captured her attention.
"Well…" Astor continued, with a slight stammer, maintaining his façade, "I'm not very smart, but even I can tell you don't like Edmund."
Selene gave a faint smile, one Astor couldn't see but could hear in her tone when she finally replied.
"I'm not surprised you noticed. Edmund isn't discreet, nor particularly subtle. It's clear he's trying to court me."
Astor nodded slowly but said nothing. Selene continued, her voice calm but cold.
"It's not the first time someone has tried to woo me." Her tone carried a mix of weariness and disdain. "I've seen these tricks before: hollow compliments, exaggerated displays of bravery, grandiose tales. Edmund is no different."
Selene paused for a moment, as if measuring her words. Astor noticed her grip on the reins loosen slightly, as if she was relaxing.
"I don't have time for those kinds of games," she added finally, her tone sharper, "especially not with someone like him."
Astor didn't respond immediately. He knew there was more to Selene's actions. Her provocations toward Edmund didn't seem like simple rejections; there was something deliberate in how she redirected attention toward Astor.
"Is there… another reason?" he asked cautiously, his tone timid, as though treading on thin ice.
Selene didn't answer right away. For a moment, the silence between them was almost oppressive. Astor could feel her gaze fixed on the back of his head, evaluating him, analyzing every word.
"Perhaps there is," she said finally, though her tone turned more reserved. "But I don't think that concerns you, does it, Astor?"
Astor lowered his head further, as if overwhelmed by the insinuation.
"No, I suppose not…" he murmured, turning his gaze to the ground.
Selene let out a soft sigh but didn't say anything else.