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“You’re one of the tourists it’s trapped, you know.”
“Like a bug under a glass.”
“You didn’t want to come here?” I ventured. He hadn’t enjoyed much of anything yet. Seemed like an awfully long way to come just to hate your way through a country.
He regarded the flowers and grasses as though they’d stabbed him in the back. As for me, I wanted to breathe in the beautiful sights until they filled my lungs, just live off the views like oxygen, but to each their own.
“There was a last-minute change of plans.” He took a deep, shaky breath, and his smile looked one hundred percent fake. “I’m going to go check out the…plants.”
He quickened his pace to get ahead of me, and I let him go. I supposed he could regret his travel decisions by himself. I certainly had no regrets.
James, our burly archery instructor, led us to a field outfitted with bows, arrows, and a line of targets. Lewis and Arnav didn’t participate. They must have done this sort of thing enough they didn’t need to anymore. They watched from beneath a shady tree, probably ready to laugh over our attempts.
He showed each of us to a hay bale laid out with gear. Along with the bow and arrows, I found protective goggles, arm pads, and weird-looking gloves that only covered the middle three fingers. James went through a lengthy spiel about safety, not aiming at anyone, being super careful, and ended with a reminder that, oh yes, one could kill a person with these bows.
Just the sort of pep talk I liked to hear.
“Have any of you ever used a bow and arrow before?” he asked.
Only Duncan raised his hand, which didn’t seem all that surprising. His shoulders said he’d played his fair share of sports and then some.
Since the rest of us had no idea about the finer points of archery, James gave a basic rundown on holding, aiming, and shooting the bow. He made it all sound so easy, but I’d never been a quick study. Once he got well out of target range, he encouraged us to give it a go.
I slipped on the protective gear and picked up the bow. Surprisingly light, this sucker still meant business, as evidenced by theit could kill youpart of the lesson. I nocked an arrow, pulled the string back, and aimed at the target, channeling Legolas hunting orcs.
The arrow flew through the air and skidded into the grass ten feet away from the target. I groaned over my pathetic display. Next to me, Duncan hit his center ring and selected his next arrow like nothing could be unusual about an afternoon of shooting at targets on an ancient, luxurious estate.
James must have been able to sniff out amateurs, and strode over to give me a few pointers. He helped me hold the bow properly and showed me the correct way to draw back the string. I released an arrow again, and this time it sailed to the right of the target.
Duncan’s arrow hit center.
“Show off,” I said over my shoulder. His smirk proved him unharmed by my teasing.
James walked me through it again, and again my arrow hit the grass well short of its mark. I’d never shot any sort of weapon in my life, but I’d thought it would be easier than this. I wasn’t expecting to run out and take down wild game, but I might have at least hit the target, for goodness’ sake.
“Just keep trying, and you’ll get it,” James said. “I have a rule that no one can leave until they hit the target at least once.”
“In that case, I live here now.”
Farther down the line, Harlow, Spencer, and Carlos were doing pretty well—they’d all hit their targets once, anyway, a feat currently beyond my skill. Bea and Rupert had fallen into an argument about the proper positioning of the bow. Bea pressed her case, shifting her body until she nearly had a clear shot at Rupert. James ran downfield to give them a little more attention before Rupert wound up impaled.
Left to myself, I shot another arrow that resolutely missed its mark. My skills were too ridiculous even to be embarrassed over—I was straight-up terrible at this. Superhero movies had lied to me when they made archery look easy.
“Do you want some help?”
Duncan set down his bow and stepped closer to me. Two arrows stuck out of his center ring, with three others surrounding them. Not a shock, honestly.
“James has given me up as a lost cause.” Behind us, he struggled to get Bea into proper position while Rupert peppered him with helpful advice.
“You can’t expect too much from your first try,” Duncan said.
“Is hitting the target too much?”
“For some people.”
I found his dry humor charming, even if it was at my expense. He gave me a new arrow and moved behind me, placing one hand under my elbow to help keep my arm level. Then he reached around me, demonstrating how to draw the bow back more fully. He gave instructions while he moved me into place, but I struggled to process everything he said.
He had me practically nestled in his arms—I couldn’t help it if the wordsSilver Foxovertook my brain. His warmth seeped through my clothes and I just caught the spicy scent of his aftershave. Wait. Would he use aftershave on hishead? No. Maybe I smelled beard oil.
