35-Reckless Bet

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Calina
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Only the sound of my harsh breathing filled the silent air as the cool morning breeze whipped across my face and filled my lungs. The mountains in the distance stood as black silhouettes against the dark blue sky, while stormy dark grey clouds slowly rolled in over the ocean.

My mind kept wandering back to the moments I had spent with Knox over the past few weeks. Despite the chaos of our busy schedules, those moments felt magical. Finding time together had proven to be a challenge, but we managed to carve out small pockets of time to share meals and learn more about each other. So far, I really liked him. Everything about him. I couldn't contain the goofy smile spreading across my face at the memory of our impromptu cooking battle. It had led to us getting kicked out of Hattie's kitchen. Those lighthearted moments were exactly what we needed, offering a reprieve from the weight of our duties.

The faint sound of heavy footsteps thumped against the grass behind me. Lengthening my strides, I pushed myself to go even faster despite the burning pain that radiated in my thighs. Strands of hair fell from my loose ponytail when Ira smacked it, and a weak laugh bubbled out of my chest.

"Trying to outrun me?" Ira teased, catching up, but he was too late.

"I win. Again! I swear Ira, if you are letting me win, I might have to kick your ass!" My voice echoed through the atrium we just ran through from the orchard.

Panting, he braced his hands on his thighs to catch his breath. A gentle smile passed over his lips.
"One of these days I will win the race. You'll see," Ira said between gasps of air.

I grinned playfully, resting my hands on my head and inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm my breathing, revealing in the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. "We'll see about that. You know what this means, right, Ira. I won the bet."

He raised an eyebrow, still trying to catch his breath.
"And are you sure, Princess Calina? Shooting a gun is a serious skill. It's not something to be taken lightly."

"I know, Ira," I replied, my playful demeanor turning serious. "But I've seen how skilled you are with firearms, and I want to learn. It's not just for fun; I want to be able to protect myself and my kingdom if the need arises."

Someone cleared their throat and I spun toward them. "Theo. Its six in the morning, which means the time still belongs to me. The Queen can have me in an hour," I complained, walking past the man that was constantly on my ass about the queen's rules. I hated being handled.

"Princess, please, this is important."

With a heavy sigh, I stopped walking and turned to face him.

"The queen is hosting a luncheon. It is imperative that you do not venture any further than the amethyst wing after ten a.m. today. Not unless you are ready to announce to the world that you are back home."

"Alright, noted. No worries."
I swear the man was a worrywart and obsessed with abiding the Queens every rule.
"One more thing Princess." Theo held up a thick black binder, to which I groaned.

"These are the profiles of approved assistants. Review each one carefully, narrow it down to five and the queen will do the rest."

"Alright. Noted. No worries," I reiterated with a pout. This was gonna suck. I took the heavy binder and almost instantly Ira removed it from my grasp.

"It will be in your room Princess," Ira said, giving the binder to Barbi, another one of the many guards that surrounded me on an endless loop. She gave me a friendly smile and curtsied just before leaving the atrium.

"Well, Ira, a bet is a bet. You said you'd teach me how to shoot a gun. Take the lead." I swung my arm out toward where we entered and after Ira was done grumbling to himself, he led the way to the shooting range.

Ira guided me through all the safety protocols. Twice.

My index finger was pressed firmly against the trigger. My eyes were focused, hands steady. The sharp impact of gun fire finally pierced the quiet morning air. It was exhilarating. My heart was beating double time in my chest.
While I had yet to hit the thin red bullseye, I'd come pretty close. I couldn't quite figure out how to handle the small kick when I pulled the trigger. Ira tapped me on the shoulder twice. His signal to put the safety on the gun and lower the weapon.

"You are doing great. Just remember, to relax your shoulders, you're a little to tense," Ira said encouragingly, taking a step back.
"We're going to work on maneuvering. First, you will practice walking with the gun, safety on. You will then move toward each target and pretend to shoot. After that I will hold your upper arms the entire time you are moving toward the target."

"Sounds good, but why will you hold onto my arms?"

"To make sure you don't trip with the gun and accidentally shoot yourself. When you're more comfortable, in a few weeks, you can move alone."
That comment made me chuckle even though Ira's face was stony and serious.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to relax my shoulders as he had suggested and walked with the gun, making sure the safety was on. Ira observed closely, giving me pointers on my stance and grip. As we reached the targets, I pretended to shoot, trying to get a feel for the motion.

With Ira's reassuring grip on my arms, we moved through the course again. I hid behind a barrier, popping up to shoot at the targets. It was challenging to coordinate the movements, but Ira's guidance helped me stay focused and steady.

We spent twenty minutes maneuvering through the course, and I missed all of my targets. Which was frustrating. Walking and shooting was way harder than it looked.

Ira wrapped his hands around mine over the handle of the gun, pushing it down on top of the barrier that I stood behind. Confused, I released the weapon and clicked the safety on.

I turned to see Knox standing behind us, his face contorted in anger. He wasn't even looking at me; he was yelling at Ira. I stood there shocked. Only catching fragments of what he said. I could see the anger saturating every word that escaped his hard pressed lips. Snapping out of my daze, I yanked the earplugs from my ears.

"Now Ira, tell me what the hell is going on here," Knox demanded, his voice seething with anger.
Panic blossomed in my chest and my heart rate spiked though my body. I'd never seen him look so angry.

"Hey," I growled, placing my hand on Knox's chest. "You are way out of line. Ira does not work for you. He doesn't answer to you. I was perfectly safe. I just sat through forty fucking minutes of a safety how to courtesy of my bodyguard."

He was so pissed that he still hadn't acknowledged me. I pushed at his firm chest. He did not even budge an inch but finally the haze of his anger faded away when he looked down at me. "No, this is unacceptable! You shouldn't be messing around with dangerous weapons."

"Messing around?" I scoffed, incredulous. "I was training. Learning to protect myself."

Knox's eyes blazed as he looked from me to Ira and back again. "Calina, do you have any idea how dangerous this is? What if something went wrong?"

Knox was completely overstepping, and the anger bubbling in my chest was causing actual pain. "You can't dictate my life, Knox."

Knox's expression softened slightly, but his anger didn't fully dissipate. "Why are you doing this?"

With a resigned sigh, I turned away. "Let's go," I said to Ira, and stormed off.

"I asked you a question," Knox called after me.

"You're going to make me say something I might regret. So, I'm going to take a walk and clear my head," I replied over my shoulder, not bothering to turn around. I tried really hard to keep my voice cool and clinical, because what I really wanted to do was scream at him.

As I walked away, I could feel Knox's gaze boring into my back, his disapproval weighing heavily on me. But in that moment, all I wanted was space to collect my thoughts and emotions. My relationship with Knox had been passionate, and all that passion made things feel complicated, but his attempts to control and protect me were suffocating.

When we were back inside the palace, and in the amethyst wing, I turned toward Ira.
"Hey, I'm sorry about all of that. I don't know what his deal was, but I'll handle it once I'm less pissed."

"Princess, it's alright. He cares about you, and he's just worried," Ira said gently. "I think it's possible the King was upset because he misunderstood my hands guiding you for something more intimate."

I snorted a laugh. "Knox was jealous? Should we tell him you're engaged and more like the brother I always wanted?"

Ira chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the grand hallway. "He's been under a lot of stress lately, and seeing you in a potentially dangerous situation probably pushed him over the edge. I'm sure he was only acting out of love, even if it's misguided. Don't be too hard on him for my sake."

I leaned against the wall, feeling the cool stone against my back. "Acting out of love? Do you know something I don't because..."

Ira quickly shook his head. "No, I meant it in a sense of caring. He cares about you. I'm sure you know he's fond of you. I cannot speak on how the king feels in relation to being in love; I just meant he cares. I didn't mean to overstep."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I get it, Ira. Anyway, thank you for teaching me how to shoot a gun. We will do it again sometime, right?" Feeling a bit more grounded, I pushed off the wall and began to make my way towards my room.

"Of course Princess. You were actually a pretty decent shot. A few more practices and you could hang with the professionals."

"I think you're being too kind. Standing still, I was okay. Moving needs a ton more practice. Maybe tomorrow? Hopefully. If the queen doesn't find out." Pushing the bedroom door open with my shoulder, I made a beeline to the bathroom.

Whatever shred of emotion I'd been holding onto on my journey back to the castle slipped once the shower water made contact with my heated skin. The tears trickled down my cheeks of their own volition.

It was moments exactly like that, with Knox freaking out, that made me hate living here. His protectiveness was sweet and frustrating. I understood where he was coming from, but I needed him to see me as capable, not fragile.
I hated being treated and handled like a dainty piece of porcelain. I had to ask the queen's permission before I could do anything. It was difficult just to breathe freely.

Ira seemed to think it was jealousy, but I was not sure. I didn't think Knox was that type.

After several long minutes with my fingers pressed against my eyes, I finally stopped weeping. Since when were tears a viable solution for any of the problems in my life? Crying wouldn't rewind my life back to Freedom.

Tugging on dark wash denim shorts and a maroon blouse, I finished drying my hair, pulling it in a simple ponytail over my shoulder. I applied a touch of mascara to my eyes and stained my lips with a matte berry nude lipstick. I only glanced in the mirror long enough to confirm that I looked put together enough for the day. Especially since I would be hanging out in my room looking over assistant portfolios.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself before leaving the bathroom. The memory of Knox's angry expression and raised voice only fueled my unease. His overprotectiveness felt suffocating, and it was hard to shake the feeling of being controlled, of not being trusted to make my own decisions. I knew he didn't intend to make me feel this way, but that was exactly how I felt.

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