We walked down a long flight of stone stairs that descended into a massive courtyard that had been deliberately repurposed as an extensive training ground for military exercises. Scattered throughout the far end of the spacious yard were various training instruments—heavy barbells, iron weights of different sizes, sturdy wooden practice swords, and complete sets of bows and arrows with their quivers. Against the walls leading to the enormous living quarters designated for the soldiers stood several goal boards lined up precisely for archery practice. The imposing building housing the soldiers reached an impressive six floors in height, and two tall watch towers were situated strategically at both ends, connected by the massive defensive wall that was wide enough to be walked upon by patrolling guards.
"This is the south soldier quarters," Arvid explained, gesturing broadly at the impressive structure.
"There's one more similar barracks along the west wall, and another positioned along the east walls. Each building houses approximately ten thousand soldiers comfortably. Gorei maintains its own standing army of around ten thousand men, so we were generously given the extra available space for our forces. There's even more capacity for additional soldiers within the main castle itself. Including the extensive basement levels, the main house actually has ten full floors." He continued his explanation with obvious pride in the castle's defensive capabilities.
"There are also extensive stables located along the north gate for all the horses," he added. "And the servant quarters, bake houses, and the massive kitchens are positioned there as well, along with all the food storages and supply rooms."
The main courtyard at the castle's grand entrance gate was also absolutely massive in scale—I had caught a glimpse of it during our arrival yesterday. And there was one more distinctive building that had been constructed clearly in traditional southern architecture, its design and ornamentation standing out sharply against the northern styles. I was genuinely curious about that particular building, so I asked Arvid about its purpose.
"Oh, that's the Sun God Temple," he explained readily. "They had it specially built years before, because my Aunt specifically requested it. She is an extremely devoted follower of the Sun God, actually almost became a Yagin—a nun who devotes her entire life in service to the Sun God—before she met my Uncle and fell in love." His voice carried obvious affection when speaking of his aunt.
We finally reached the expansive main courtyard, and I observed that industrious soldiers had already cleared away the piled-up snow and had set up multiple arrow targets for archery practice. Some dedicated soldiers had already begun their training regimen despite the early hour, sending arrow after arrow in rapid succession toward the distant targets with varying degrees of success.
"Since we are going to be organizing hunting parties in the upcoming days to supplement our food supplies, I instructed them to focus on training their bow skills," Arvid explained the reasoning behind the specific training focus.
I found myself interested, memories surfacing. I had tried my hand at archery when I was young with my brother Drystan supervising me, but I had never been particularly skilled—certainly not a good archer by any measure.
"Are you a good archer?" I asked Arvid directly, deliberately leaning against him with casual intimacy.
He became immediately flustered by the physical contact and my question. He tried valiantly to remain neutral and composed because his soldiers were present and watching, but I could clearly see he was struggling with his emotions, his jaw tightening.
"Um, I can shoot adequately—" he managed to say, carefully avoiding my eyes.
"Then show me your skills," I told him, smiling warmly at his endearing reactions.
So I reluctantly let go of his hand and released him to go grab a bow and a quiver of arrows from the practice equipment. The soldiers immediately welcomed him with such tremendous enthusiasm, cheering loudly for their emperor and gathering around.
I watched him carefully, and his movements—the way he tested the bowstring, checked the arrows, positioned his feet—told me everything I needed to know. He was clearly a master archer, not merely adequate.
Even the soldiers who had been walking nearby stopped their activities and began calling out in the heavy accent characteristic of Arthia, "His Imperial Majesty is going to draw a bow! Come watch!" Their excitement spread rapidly, and soon soldiers were filling the arena from all directions to witness. Why were they so extraordinarily excited about this? They possessed much more enthusiasm than even I did. I lifted a questioning brow, confused by the fervor **(fervor: intense and passionate feeling)**.
Katherine materialized at my side—she had been following us faithfully through the whole extensive walk around the castle grounds, maintaining a respectful distance of exactly five steps behind.
"They look remarkably excited," she stated, echoing my inner thoughts precisely.
"They certainly are," I agreed, genuinely confused by the intensity of their reaction.
I was even more confused when several soldiers brought out a beautiful brown mare from the stables, along with a wicker basket filled with fresh red apples. What was happening?
A soldier quickly fitted the horse with a saddle, getting the mare ready for mounting with efficient movements. After securing everything properly, he led the prepared horse to Arvid. Arvid mounted the horse with practiced, elegant ease that spoke of years of experience.
He trotted the mare around the courtyard for a few seconds, getting a feel for her movements and temperament. Then he positioned himself off to one side of the arena—and suddenly he kicked the horse into a fast gallop, moving at considerable speed. The soldier standing in the middle of the courtyard with the apple basket began tossing the apples high into the air in rapid succession. The apples flew fast and quick through the cold air—but Arvid, maintaining his elegant mounted pose, drew arrow after arrow while moving at full gallop, each arrow piercing the airborne apples with perfect precision. Each tossed apple landed on the ground with an arrow embedded cleanly through it. Not a single apple was missed. Not one.
It was absolutely amazing to witness—a display of extraordinary skill. A proud smile decorated my lips unconsciously. After absolutely slaying his targets with impossible precision, he trotted the mare around the courtyard in a victory lap. The assembled soldiers erupted into thunderous cheers and applause. He was clearly a talented, masterful marksman.
He looked directly toward me at the end of his performance, his eyes carrying that unmistakable 'did you see that, did you witness my skill' expression—and I returned his look with an enthusiastic smile and affirmative nod. It took him quite a while to finally escape from the mob of excited soldiers. They all desperately wanted one more round, an encore performance, but he barely managed to extricate himself from their enthusiastic praise to return to my side.
So he was a truly great archer, which perfectly explained the extensive, well-developed muscles I had noticed along his shoulder blades when I had seen him shirtless back at Ferne Castle. *Isn't my mate absolutely the most handsome and most talented man?* I thought with satisfaction.
"You're a genuinely great archer," I told him sincerely when he finally returned to me, slightly out of breath.
He nodded his head shyly, acknowledging the compliment but clearly uncomfortable with the praise.
"My teacher taught me that skill—he is an absolute expert in archery, perhaps the best I've ever known." Then his handsome face turned somewhat disappointed, shadows crossing his features.
"But it seems my teacher left suddenly last night without warning," he said, his voice noticeably low and hurt.
"He never even said goodbye to me," he added with obvious pain.
A sharp pang of guilt hit my chest like a physical blow. *Because I left your beloved teacher deserted alone in the desert*, I wanted desperately to confess and apologize, but I absolutely didn't dare to. The truth would devastate him.
"I'm sure he has his important reasons for leaving," I added as casually as I could manage, carefully hiding my internal panic. *And I also strangled your teacher and drained him nearly dry of his magic*, I thought guiltily.
"It's fine, I suppose. He always disappears without notice like this," Arvid said, shrugging it off with practiced resignation, clearly accustomed to this pattern.
Then his face suddenly brightened considerably, shadows lifting.
"I know a place that I think you would absolutely love. Come with me," he said excitedly. He grabbed my hand like an enthusiastic child and started running eagerly toward the main castle building. I followed him willingly with his lead, becoming just as excited as he was—a smile playing naturally at my lips. *Oh God, he is absolutely adorable when he's like this.*
So we went up several flights of stairs, climbing higher and higher, until we reached the fifth floor, both of us slightly breathless. There was a huge, impressive door on this level. Unlike the other floors we'd passed, which had featured various separate rooms and chambers, this entire floor appeared to have been converted into one single massive hall. Now I was intensely curious—what lay beyond this mysterious door?
"Here we go," Arvid announced, pulling open the huge oakwood door with obvious excitement.
I was met with something I could only describe as heaven manifested on earth. A library—an absolutely magnificent library with row after row of towering shelves—and every single shelf was filled completely to the brim with books of all sizes and ages. On the right side of the entrance doors, there were several sturdy tables with comfortable chairs arranged for reading and study. Everything looked meticulously organized, very well maintained and cared for. The air was pleasantly musty and woody with that distinctive old book smell that every true reader cherishes. That was it—I had found the place where I would spend the majority of my time until we finally left Gorei.
"I love this, Arvid," I told him earnestly, my heart gushing with pure excitement at all the knowledge stored between those countless pages. I would absorb all of it with the utmost care and dedication.
He smiled warmly and reached up to caress my cheek tenderly.
"I knew you would like this place," he said, smiling softly with obvious pleasure at my reaction.
I leaned instinctively into his gentle touch, grabbing his arm and rubbing my cheek affectionately against it like a cat. Then I placed a soft, lingering kiss in his palm, my lips warm against his skin.
He turned bright red instantly. His fingers began trembling noticeably under my lips. *Adorable*. Ah—I wanted desperately to kiss him properly on the lips. If he didn't willingly give me access beyond chaste kisses, I decided I would bite his lower lip gently, so he would gasp in surprise and open his mouth, and then I would simply—devour him completely.
As if he had somehow sensed my thoughts growing increasingly dangerous and impatient, he slowly retrieved his hand from my affectionate embrace, pulling away.
"So, enjoy the library," he managed to say breathlessly, before disappearing quickly through the door, his cheeks absolutely burning red.
Tsk. Escaped again.
No worries, I thought with determination. There would be plenty of opportunities later. Always.