Chapter 11: Target Practice

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Princess Axelia

"So, are you going to tell me about yesterday?" Maynard asks as I begin throwing a series of daggers into the centermost dot of circular targets. 

They're set to face me from varying angles and distances, so I won't have to move. It's how I develop muscle memory of each blade's weight and range. 

I know it isn't fair to keep from him why I kicked his butt and ran. At the same time, I don't want to think about my physical insecurities, or discuss the pressures I've been under lately. Maynard is a good listener, and he is quite compassionate, but he isn't a woman. 

There are some things I know he won't understand. 

After I hit the last of thirteen targets, I turn to him while massaging my shoulders. Surely there is some way for me to share without being too specific. 

Sighing, I meet his bright blue eyes and appreciate the way they gleam against the sunlight. His dark skin seems to be glowing today and his bubbly demeanor encourages me to think of something to say. 

"I can't figure out when to be a warrior and when to be a Princess," I decide is a suitable conclusion of my situation. 

Fighting for Cadomia makes me feel like I'm doing something that matters. I save lives. Being a Princess, and representing our Kingdom feels like I'm an actress thrown in a dress to put on a performance. Yet, my people only see my armor when I go to fight and my face when I'm their Princess. 

It doesn't make sense. 

Before he has a chance to respond, I stride over to the targets to retrieve all of the daggers. He seems to still be thinking of what to say when I return and begin to throw them for the thirteenth round.   

It's not that I hate being a Princess, but yesterday made me wish I wasn't one. I just don't like the pressure of having to pretend to be someone I'm not. Pleasing people is an impossible job and makes me feel like I lose sight of who I am. Saving people is what I do. It's what I love.

"Why not be both?" he asks. "I would be stressed if I had to choose between two different lives every day, too." The sound of his voice travels as he paces behind me, and I continue to hit mark after mark effortlessly even as I mull over his words. "Embrace that they are one because the two are both a part of you."

"A warrior Princess?" I murmur and release the eighth dagger as tingles rush through my spine causing an odd feeling of security as though someone has called out my name; there's no mistaking it is me. 

Something about it is pleasantly familiar; electrifying. 

"Exactly," he acclaims as he steps beside me with squinting eyes. "Uh, you missed."

I what?

Narrowing my eyes, I glance out to see that the dagger has hit one of the outer rings of the target instead of the bullseye.

"You're distracting me."

"Well, excuse me for trying to offer some advice," he chuckles. "Carry on."

Immediately following, I hit the centers of the remaining targets again. 

Feeling a sense of satisfaction, I once again go out to grab them only to return to my position to begin once more.

"Were they pressuring you?" he asks. "I know you sometimes get this way after a day of fulfilling your duties. Every time you eventually admit someone or something made you insecure."

So much for sparing him the specifics. 

"Yes, they were. I don't think it is wise for me to discuss in what ways this time though," I admit. A heat rises to my cheeks at the thought of some of the things Miss Isidora said to me. 

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