Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 267: Second Lifetime, Freya. (13)

Chapter 267: Second Lifetime, Freya. (13)

Seconoria.

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It was hunting period in Seconoria and the princess too was going along with the knigts, hunters and guests.

"My lady would you bring back a flamingo to me?" Hannah asked Freya through the mirror.

Freya sighed, she didn’t like being called ’my lady’ because she believes it’s a strange possesive pronoun but she would accept it just today because she was about to break her freinds heart, "Hannah if I shoot for a flamingo, it will be dead and then you will hate me for that" her explanation.

"You cannot keep a dead flamingo, it will lose─" Hannah cut the princess off with a downcast pout, "I understand!... but can you... maybe not kill it?"

Freya couldn’t help the laugh that treathened to leave her throat, "No, Hannah, I cannot run after a flamingo for anybody" not even you, she wanted to add.

"We could do it together before you become queen then" Hannah said with repeated nods, agreeing with herself.

"I promise" Freya declared, "We would attempt to catch a flamingo without hurting it," she hoped it could happen.

"We will succeed," Hannah declared with a playful glare sent to her friend.

Freya nodded simply agreeing because Hannah was a fierce arguer. With a smile Hannah said, "Let us get you dressed for the hunt princess Freya"

"Yes, Miss Hannah" and they both gigled like content girls before she dressed in the right clothing and she was escorted to Theodore.

"You look marvelous" he whispered.

She blushed, "You have gotten so good at whispering, Sir Theodore"

"I would become anyone for you, I suppose the whisperer is the least dangerous" he said.

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the dense forest as the hunting party prepared to embark on their expedition. Freya stood among the men, her bow slung over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the surroundings with determined focus. The king had insisted she join the hunt, a test of her skills and resilience. She knew the stakes were high; any sign of weakness would be a disappointment to her father.

But she had Theodore and she trusted herself, she would prove herself worthy to her father, anyway possible.

They got ready and left.

The forest was alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves as they moved deeper into the woods. Freya kept pace with the men, her steps light and silent, her senses alert. She nocked an arrow and drew her bowstring, releasing it with precision to take down a deer. The men around her nodded in approval, but Freya barely acknowledged them, her mind set on proving herself.

The hunting party assembled at dawn, the air crisp and filled with the scent of pine and damp earth. Freya, dressed in a practical hunting outfit, adjusted her quiver and mounted her horse. Theodore was beside her, his eyes sharp and alert. The king had sent guards to accompany them, their faces stoic and vigilant. Among them were hunters whose gazes held more than just professional interest; their whispers and sneers belittled her presence.

Theodore stood with clenched teeth.

Freya took a deep breath, steeling herself against the undercurrent of disdain. She was determined to prove herself, to show that she was more than capable. As they entered the dense forest, the sounds of nature enveloped them. Birds chirped, and the rustling of leaves underfoot created a symphony of wilderness.

’Huh’ Freya took a deep breath, she was ready and hard hearted.

The first animal they encountered was a deer, its ears twitching as it sensed their approach. Freya raised her bow, her eyes narrowing in concentration. She released the arrow, and it soared through the air with precision, striking the deer cleanly. There was a brief moment of silence before the guards murmured in approval, though the hunters remained unimpressed.

Theodore shot an approving glance at Freya, his own bow at the ready. He admired her skill and focus, though he couldn’t help but remain on guard. His eyes flicked to the hunters who watched Freya with ill intentions, their whispers growing louder as the morning wore on.

"She is just a woman," one of them muttered, barely audible over the sounds of the hunt.

"One to be our king" another warned.

"She’s better off in a gown than out here," another added, sneering.

Freya pretended not to hear, her focus unbroken. She spotted another deer and took aim, her muscles tense with concentration. As she released the arrow, a bird flew overhead, dropping its excrement perilously close to one of the hunters. Laughter erupted among the guards and the more good-natured hunters, breaking the tension momentarily.

Theodore chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Freya. He shot an arrow, hitting a boar, but his attention was divided. His admiration for Freya’s resilience grew with each passing moment. As they continued deeper into the forest, the conversations became a blend of light-hearted banter and strategic planning.

"Nice shot, Princess," Theodore said, his tone warm.

Freya smiled, her eyes meeting his. "Thank you, Theodore. I have had a good teacher."

Their gazes lingered, a silent connection forming between them. They rode side by side, their horses moving in unison. The rhythm of the hunt was almost soothing, a dance of predator and prey.

The party came across a wounded man lying by the edge of a clearing. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, and his face was pale with pain. Freya dismounted immediately, rushing to his side. Theodore was right behind her, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger.

"Help me get him up," Freya instructed, her voice firm.

Together, they lifted the man and carried him to a safer spot.

As the hunt continued, she successfully brought down several more targets, her arrows flying true. But then, a loud, persistent honking disrupted the quiet of the forest. Freya turned to see a large, stubborn goose flapping its wings and charging toward her. Its eyes were fixed on her with a determination that matched her own.

Freya’s heart raced, but she refused to scream. She couldn’t afford to show fear or weakness in front of the king’s men and the hunters. She turned and ran, her feet pounding against the forest floor. The goose pursued her relentlessly, honking and snapping its beak. Freya’s breaths came in short gasps as she dodged trees and leaped over fallen branches, determined to outpace her stubborn pursuer.

The terrain grew steeper and more treacherous, but Freya pressed on, her stubborn pride preventing her from calling for help. The goose, undeterred, continued its chase, its honking echoing through the forest. Freya’s legs burned with effort, and her mind raced as she realized she was nearing the edge of a cliff.

Just as she was about to lose her footing, a strong arm grabbed her from behind, pulling her to safety. Theodore’s eyes were wide with fear as he held her tightly, his heart pounding in his chest. "Freya," he breathed, his voice shaky with relief. "Are you alright?"

Freya clung to him, her body trembling from the adrenaline and the close call. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken. "I... I am fine," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Theodore looked at the cliff, it was like the waterfall situation in their past life.

He tightened his embrace, his fear for her safety evident in the way he held her. "You scared me," he admitted, his voice soft and filled with emotion. "Do not ever do that again. Always call for me, please"

Freya melted in his arms, feeling a warmth and security she had never known before. She buried her face in his chest, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability. "Thank you, Theodore," she whispered, her voice muffled against his wet tunic. "For saving me."

He stroked her hair gently, his own heart gradually calming. "Always," he murmured, his voice a promise. "I will always and forever be here for you."

The two of them stood there at the edge of the cliff, the rain now a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of their shared moment. The forest around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, bound by their unspoken connection and the realization that they were not alone in their struggles.

As they worked, Theodore’s hand brushed against Freya’s, and for a moment, the world around them faded away. He forgot about the guards, the hunters, and even the king’s orders. His only focus was on Freya, and the connection between them.

The spell was broken by the sound of rain beginning to fall, a gentle patter that quickly grew into a steady downpour. The hunting party started to disperse, seeking shelter. Theodore grabbed Freya’s hand, his grip strong and reassuring.

"We need to get back," he said, his voice barely audible over the rain.

Freya nodded, squeezing his hand in return. They mounted their horses and rode back to the castle, the rain soaking them to the bone. But neither of them cared. The rain was a welcome distraction, washing away the tension and leaving them with a sense of clarity.

As they reached the castle gates, Theodore looked at Freya, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and admiration. "You did well today, Freya," he said softly.

She smiled, her heart warming at his words. "Thank you, Theodore. I couldn’t have done it without you."

They dismounted and headed inside, the rain still falling outside. The day had been challenging, but it had also brought them closer together. As they parted ways, Theodore couldn’t help but feel a surge of determination. No matter what challenges lay ahead, he would stand by Freya’s side, protecting her and supporting her in every way possible.

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