Cold Hearts In Love.

Stephen and Zayd strode confidently toward the group. Aurora's gaze met Stephen's, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. Yet, as his eyes swept over the others, the smile faded.

"Your Majesty," they greeted in unison, each bowing slightly—save for Genevieve and Sapphire, who remained still.

"What brings you here?" Genevieve asked coolly, her disapproval evident in her tone.Stephen offered a faint smirk.

"I was taking a walk with Zayd when we happened upon your gathering. It seemed… lively. We thought we might join in and dispel a bit of boredom. You don't mind, do you?"

"Hmph," Genevieve said, her tone laced with dismissal, while the others held their silence. 

"Are we to take that as an invitation, Your Grace?" Zayd inquired smoothly, a faint edge to his voice. 

"Of course, you are welcome, Zayd," Genevieve replied, her words measured as mischief played behind her eyes.

 "Splendid," he replied simply, his gaze unwavering. Marianna stepped forward with practiced grace. "Lord Zayd, I am Marianna," she said with a gentle smile, her tone warm and welcoming. 

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Marianna," Zayd responded, taking her hand and bowing slightly. With deliberate elegance, he placed a polite kiss upon her hand.

Sapphire's eyes flicked toward the pair, her chest tightening as a flicker of jealousy burned within her. She masked it quickly, though her narrowed gaze lingered on Zayd's gesture a moment longer than she intended.

Genevieve moved toward the side range, gesturing for the guards to prepare the equipment. They promptly arrived, presenting finely crafted bows and quivers for Stephen and Zayd. 

"I must commend your skill, Lady Aurora," Zayd said, his gaze lingering appreciatively. "It is a rare talent indeed." Aurora dipped her head modestly, a soft smile on her lips.

"Thank you, my lord. The bow and I have been well-acquainted since my youth. Over time, it became second nature." 

Sapphire, standing nearby, shifted her weight with a quiet huff. Perhaps I ought to take up the bow, she mused. If only to earn such compliments myself.

Stephen cleared his throat and stepped forward, his demeanor calm yet commanding.

"I'll go first," he announced, his deep voice steady and brimming with quiet pride. All eyes were fixed on him as he approached the range, his movements deliberate and sure. With practiced ease, he straightened the bow, notched the arrow, and drew the string back.

For a moment, he held his stance, exuding an air of certainty, before releasing the arrow. 

The shaft flew swiftly but landed just shy of the center, a few marks off target. 

A soft snort broke the silence. Aurora, unable to contain herself, quickly covered her mouth. The amused twinkle in her eyes drew everyone's attention.

"Forgive me," she said, her voice light with restrained laughter. "A mishap, I am sure." 

Stephen turned toward her, his expression unreadable, though the flicker of wounded pride was not entirely concealed. 

"Not bad, Your Majesty," Aurora added, her smile teasing but laced with just enough sincerity to soften the jest. 

Stephen's jaw tightened, but the corner of his mouth curved into a faint smirk as he stepped closer, his eyes fixed on Aurora.

"Since you seem so confident in your skill, Lady Aurora, shall we settle this with a friendly wager?" His tone was calm yet laced with challenge, his gaze narrowing slightly. 

Aurora met his eyes without flinching, her own confidence shining through as the others watched the silent clash of wills between them. 

"And what are the terms of this wager, Your Majesty?" she asked coolly. 

"Five rounds," Stephen declared.

"Should you emerge victorious, I shall grant you one wish, no matter how grand—within reason, of course. Should I win, the favor shall be mine. What do you say?" 

"I say it is very much fair, Your Majesty," Aurora replied with a confident smile, her tone cool yet resolute. 

"Oh, so now we're witnessing some kind of lover's duel?" Genevieve muttered bitterly under her breath, her tone sharp and disdainful. Her expression darkened further as her gaze landed on Aurora.

Just the sight of her standing there, composed and confident, stirred an unrelenting anger within her. 

But Genevieve was not one to let her emotions rule her actions. She had orchestrated this moment deliberately. Bringing Aurora to the training grounds, knowing Stephen would stumble upon them, had been a calculated move. She had expected him to linger, unable to resist Aurora's presence. 

Her mind churned with schemes. She was certain her son had no knowledge of Aurora's true past—that she was a courtesan, and worse, one who had lied about it. If she could expose the truth here and now, before the guards and onlookers, the whispers would spread like wildfire.

Rumors would fester, tarnishing Aurora's name until she had no choice but to leave. And Stephen? Genevieve was sure his affection would not withstand such a revelation. 

Her lips curled into a satisfied smile, a quiet sigh escaping her as she watched the scene unfold. 

"I'll go first," Aurora announced, stepping forward with an elegance that commanded attention. Her posture was regal, her every movement poised, as if she were born for the stage upon which she now stood. 

"I'm rooting for you," Sapphire called out cheerfully, winking at Aurora with a grin. 

Aurora nodded, her expression softening for a moment. 

"I'm rooting for both," Marianna added, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Her gaze shifted to Zayd, their eyes meeting briefly before she looked away. 

Zayd smiled faintly. "As am I—both competitors deserve praise," he said. 

Sapphire caught the quiet exchange, her heart sinking.

Was Zayd oblivious to her presence? And why did that even bother her? She frowned inwardly, confusion and frustration mingling. Was it jealousy? But over what? Her thoughts tangled, and she forced herself to look back at Aurora. 

The group stood to the side, their eyes fixed on the competition, anticipation thick in the air. 

Aurora raised her bow, her grip steady as she took a deep breath. She carefully nocked the arrow and squinted, focusing on the target's center dot.

Time seemed to stretch as she drew the string back, her heart quickening with each passing moment. Finally, she released the arrow, its flight swift and sure—but it landed a few marks shy of the center. 

Aurora winced slightly, but her confidence did not falter. She straightened her shoulders, her resolve unshaken, as the contest continued to unfold. 

"Don't be disheartened; this is merely a warm-up," Sapphire encouraged with a reassuring smile. 

"I knew she was just lucky the first time," Charlotte muttered under her breath, her tone sharp and her gaze laced with disdain. 

Aurora clenched her jaw, cursing inwardly, but her confidence remained unshaken. She stepped aside, watching as Stephen advanced, his movements deliberate and self-assured.

He raised his bow, aimed, and released the arrow with precision. It struck the center of the target with an unmistakable thud. His smirk widened as he turned to face Aurora, that infuriatingly smug look etched across his face. 

Aurora moved forward, brushing off his condescension. Stephen had one point; she had none. Four rounds remained, and the outcome was still undecided. She steadied her breathing, focusing her mind entirely on the center of the target.

Her fingers released the arrow, and it sailed through the air, landing perfectly in the middle. Though her heart leapt with triumph, she maintained a composed demeanor, as if it were nothing remarkable. 

The competition grew fiercer. Stephen gained another point, but so did Aurora. As Stephen prepared for his next shot, he cast a condescending glance her way. His smirk lingered as he drew the arrow back. Just before he released it, Aurora gave him a playful wink.

Startled, his focus faltered for a brief moment. The arrow missed the center by a significant margin. 

The crowd stirred with excitement as the final round approached. This was the deciding moment. Aurora stretched her arms, loosened her shoulders, and approached the line with calm determination. She raised the bow, took aim, and let the arrow fly. It struck dead center. 

Aurora's composure broke as she squealed in delight. "Yes! You did it!" Sapphire cried, rushing forward to embrace her. Aurora laughed and returned the hug, her joy infectious. 

"Ladies," Genevieve interjected sharply, her irritation evident. Both women immediately pulled back, straightening their postures with practiced elegance. 

Stephen, ever composed, gave a subtle nod of acknowledgment, his expression unreadable. He handed his bow to a waiting servant and adjusted his gloves with deliberate care.

Then, closing the distance between them, he stopped before Aurora, who was still basking in the glow of her victory. 

"So," he began, his voice smooth and low, "what is your wish?" 

Aurora glanced at the crowd, all of them straining to catch her response. She sighed softly. "I shall think on it and let you know in due time. Does that suffice?" 

Stephen raised a brow, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. "Fair enough. But you have only a day—after that, it no longer counts." 

Before Aurora could reply, Genevieve cleared her throat, drawing the attention of everyone present.

"You are skilled, I will grant you that," she said, her tone deceptively sweet. "But I cannot help but wonder how a courtesan managed to cultivate such talents." 

Aurora's smile faltered, her gaze shifting from Stephen's to meet Genevieve's pointed stare. The older woman's expression radiated triumph, as if she had been waiting for this moment. 

Stephen turned to his mother, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Mother," he began, his tone icy, "I remind you that the option of relocating to the abandoned palace is still very much available. If you cannot refrain from addressing her in such an offensive manner, solitude may suit you well." 

Genevieve's smile did not waver, though her eyes gleamed with malice.

"Offensive? Pray, how so? Since you've invited her into your palace, you ought to know the truth about the company you keep. This woman—this liar—was indeed a courtesan. I warned you, son, but I was dismissed. I've only ever sought to protect you." 

"Enough, Mother," Stephen growled, his voice cutting through her words.

"How many times must I—" 

"It's true." 

The words silenced the entire group. Zayd parted his lips, as if to speak, but Aurora beat him to it. Her voice was calm, her expression unreadable. 

"I was indeed a courtesan."