As promised, Marie-Fey was down at the newly erected archery range after breakfast, examining the stage as servants set up the targets and organised the arrows.

She was absently pinning her hair back as she watched, pulling up the right side so she wouldn't risk ripping her hair out when Zaydan stopped beside her.

"Will you be comfortable shooting in that?" he asked, taking in her usual foreign gown with tight jacket over the top to accent her slim corseted waist, choosing tight sleeve that buttoned securely around her wrists over her preferred flaring ones that morning.

"I will be fine," she informed him bluntly and he left her alone until the range was ready.

Gharam handed Marie-Fey her bow as the pair walked to their places.

Two servants held a huge parasol aloft several feet behind Marie-Fey, shielding her from the sun while also staying well back from the weapons.

Marie-Fey examined her new bow.

She didn't have gloves and was so long out of practice her fingers were going to ache by the end of the session.

She looked at her delicate fingertips. She had always been careful to not let callouses bloom or damage form, even when she had practiced frequently. It was unbecoming and unattractive to her – she was not her brothers and did not like the feeling of roughened fingertips. They would certainly do her well at that moment, but she would precure a glove for protection later.

The bow itself had knocking points on the string, but no arrow rest on the body. She would have that added as well but the lack of it didn't concern her.

"Some warm up shots, perhaps?" Zaydan said from where he stood almost ten metres away.

Marie-Fey didn't answer him. She just turned her attention to her target. She guessed the tiny target was some eighty metres away. Fitting an arrow into place, she brought the bow up and drew back the string, keeping her supporting arm slightly bent to avoid tearing her skin.

She was still for a moment, feeling the bite of the string against the crook of her fingers and chill of her thumb against her cheekbone as she balanced her hand.

She released the bow at the same moment as Zaydan's.

His struck almost bull's eye but hers went wide.

She spotted her ladies behind her dart quick looks her way but wasn't concerned about the miss.

She took another arrow and lined up her shot, adjusting from last time.

The arrow hit the target but was off in the lower left-hand corner of the outer red ring.

Zaydan fired his second arrow and hit dead centre.

"That will do," Marie-Fey said, waving servants to go run and collect the arrows.

Zaydan looked at her in surprise. "But you only shot twice," he said, startled.

"I am aware. That will do."

He stared at her as they waited for the four arrows to be returned.

"I don't understand. You didn't line up your shot correctly to hit the centre," he said, "I expected an actual competition."

Marie-Fey glanced at him as her two arrows her returned, then fitted one into place, drew back, aimed, readjusted once again, and loosed the arrow.

It slammed home dead centre, driving half way through the straw before coming to a stop and everyone stared.

"I readjusted," she informed him calmly, collecting her second arrow and waiting for his first shot.

He stared at her for a moment, then took his shot, the arrow driving home.

"So, who trained you?" Zaydan asked on the third round.

"Excuse me?" Marie-Fey said, lining up her shot.

"You said you trained from the best?"

Marie-Fey was quiet for a time before recalling the comment from the evening before. "I said I trained with the best, not from the best."

"There is a difference?"

"I was better than my coach. I was not better than my companion."

"And who was she?"

"I trained with my brothers. All members of my family are skilled in sports. My youngest brother excels at them."

"At archery?"

"At all sports. Beldon excels... well, at everything," Marie-Fey said with a sigh, "There is nothing he cannot do. Oh, except art. If he were commissioned to draw the worst piece of art in the world on pain of death, he would still be killed for the simple offence his skill would cause the artistic world. He has no eye for it, not even years with Luka has scraped up an inch of skill."

"Luka?"

She dismissed him with a wave of a new arrow before fitting it into place.

He let it slide. "If I remember, Beldon is in the army at the moment?"

Marie-Fey's lips twisted. "Yes, he is."

"Yes... I remember the reputation. Though I never had the chance to meet him. I graduated before you attended university."

Marie-Fey was quiet for a moment, then stared at him, bow drawn and forgotten. "Excuse me?"

He gave her a brief glance before firing. "You didn't know? I attended the same university at your brother. Different years, of course. We wouldn't have met anyway as he was in the school of law and I was not. But I heard all about the fuss of him not attending university and then returning a year later. His name caused quite the palaver, though I cannot imagine what is so special about one man to send everyone into such a tizzy."

He looked at Marie-Fey out of the corner of his eyes as if waiting for her to explain that he in fact had two heads and was thus a fascinating freak show.

Marie-Fey just gave an elegant shrug and shot.

"My brother has a hold over other people like he's put a spell on them. That is all there is to it."

"I take it he does not share your charm," Zaydan said and Marie-Fey ignored the stab.

"Beldon has a wicked streak should he choose to use it. I have seen him take a knife to a man's throat and he would have slit it if he believed true danger was coming to the one he loves. He is a fast-rising success in the army. He is a killer and a good one at that. He has a sharp mouth and distasteful take on people who anger him. An arrogance people simply ignore in favour of his looks and he takes delight in causing upset all in the name of fun. He plays a self-sacrificing martyr when no one asks him to and can be an all-around menace to the reputation of my family with him unbending drive to follow his own path in life, even if that drive gets him a bullet in the heart. He is a stubborn devil with a smile too charming to be seen through. He has my 'charm' when he so chooses to use it. What sets us apart however is, at his core, he is fun-loving and good-natured. He pays for his path by sacrificing his sanity because he cannot be bowed by anyone. I, on the other hand, will not sacrifice my sanity any further and I am not good-natured."

She took her final shot and lowered her bow, setting her hand on the top and holding like a cane, looking at him.

"Bel is what society calls prefect – if only they knew. I am the least interesting of the Leigh Ladies, set aside in favour of my sisters. We share the same charm, he wears it better. Why did you attend university in my kingdom?"

Zaydan was just staring.

It was the most she had ever said to him in one go – even if it were about a brother rather than herself – but she could see he was debating on pointing it out. He was clever enough not to.

He just took his final shot and set servants to collect arrows and count scores.

"I wanted to travel and study elsewhere in the world," he said, "I am a second son, not as important as my brother but also freer. So I chose where I wanted to go, decided to study and didn't look back. It is why I wear the clothes I do. I am comfortable in these."

"Highly inappropriate for this climate," Marie-Fey observed.

"As are yours."

"I have my own reasons for keeping these clothes."

"And I also."

"So why are you back here?"

"I always intended to come back. My home and life are here. I work alongside my brother. My mother was here. I would marry here and continue my life here as intended after travel and study."

Marie-Fey looked at him. "You're married?" she said.

Zaydan shook his head. "No, not yet. My aunt is currently compiling suitable brides from the list my mother left behind." He grinned at her. "Perhaps I shall ask your advice in choosing."

"Do you have a separate home from here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is in the next territory over from here, naturally still part of my brother's state. But I spend more time here than there."

Marie-Fey turned on him, "Do you also have a palace filled with bored, waiting girls with nothing to do but wait for an absent master?" she said, her voice like thorns as their arrows were returned.

Zaydan looked at her for a moment, his eyes dark. "I have a palace," he confirmed, tilting his hand to the side. "But it is empty."

Marie-Fey eyed him for a moment, then rocked back on her heels, the challenge leaving her shoulders.

He shot her a violent grin. "For now," he added.

The speed at which Marie-Fey had an arrow nocked and trained on Zaydan was blinding but Zaydan met her attack with his own speed and they stood facing off, weapons trained on each other as everyone panicked around them, wanting to stop them but not wanting to interfere for fear an impromptu touch might loose an arrow.

"You try my patience, Zaydan," Marie-Fey growled.

"Forgive me for wanting to see where your boundaries lie, Marie-Fey" he shot back.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"What good is life without curiosity? Merely another form of death."

"You do so little to earn my favour. I'm shocked you thought you could be an ally to me."

"I will continue to try and I will win you over."

"I have already told you to return to your Sultan."

"You won't get rid of me so easily. I will get what I want no matter what anyone tells me."

"You're as uncaring as Beldon."

"Au contraire. It is because I care too much."

"Well I do not," Marie-Fey said and released the arrow.

Zaydan's arrow released at the same moment and screams erupted through the gardens.

Marie-Fey did not move and felt the sting of Zaydan's arrow fly by, so close it cut through the skin of her cheek before continuing on past her hair and slamming into the wall of the palace where it broke and scattered down on the people who had ducked in time.

She absently touched her cheek and drew bloodied fingers away, then glanced at Zaydan as he did the same.

They carried matching wounds on their faces and Zaydan smiled at her.

"Perhaps they will scar and we shall be two halves of the same whole," he mocked.

"You will never be half of someone like me," Marie-Fey sneered.

He just smirked. "Same time again tomorrow?"

The question caused uproar. His men launched at him, howling at the madness and audacity of it, shouting of punishment and pain.

He ignored them, watching Marie-Fey as she handed the bow off to Gharam's trembling fingers.

"Yes, same time tomorrow," she said calmly.