Leona had been so engrossed in her questions, that she hadn’t noticed anything else around her.
But gradually, a strange sensation crept up her spine.
The feeling of being watched.
She paused mid-question, her brow furrowing, and slowly turned around.
Her eyes trembled in disbelief and surprise.
What she had thought was true.
Dozens of elves—those waiting in line, those taking breaks from shooting, even so of the range safety officers were staring at her.
Not with hostility or judgnt, but with sothing far more unexpected.
So were smiling openly.
Others were whispering behind their hands, their eyes darting between her and Luca.
A few had even abandoned their firing positions entirely, leaning around others to get a better view.
And there, in the middle of it all, stood Luna and Lulu.
Luna’s eyes were full of wonder, her mouth slightly open, as if she was witnessing sothing impossible.
Lulu had forgotten her punishnt entirely, as she stared at her mother with an expression of pure, undisguised shock.
Leona froze.
In that mont, realization crashed over her like a wave.
She had been...talking. Openly. Enthusiastically to Luca.
At first, she had tried so hard to maintain her composure.
She put on the cool mask. She used the asured tone. The controlled expressions.
But question by question, answer by answer, the mask had cracked.
Her voice had grown more animated.
Her face had shown genuine emotion—curiosity, excitent, even monts of childlike wonder.
And Luca...
Luca had been so patient. So gentle. So utterly, infuriatingly kind.
No matter what she asked—no matter how simple, how complex, how strange, how embarrassingly basic—he answered.
He explained.
He made sure she understood.
He never once made her feel foolish for asking, never once rushed her, never once showed even a flicker of impatience.
For soone like Leona, who craved knowledge and understanding with a passion she had long suppressed, it was intoxicating.
And now she realized that this was probably the first ti in years—maybe decades—that she had spoken so openly to anyone.
Even with Nyx, her own sister, her conversations were cold and clipped. Forced. Guarded.
She never let down her walls, never showed vulnerability, never revealed the person she used to be.
But with Luca?
The walls had crumbled without her even noticing.
Why?
She thought about it, really thought about it, and the answer ca to her with surprising clarity.
Safety.
It was strange.
There was a dangerous elent looming over them that only she knew off.
And if she were to be her true self, she knew that it would have horrible repercussions that she couldn’t handle.
And yet, when Luca was around, that danger felt manageable. Controllable. As if no matter what ca their way, he would handle it.
It was terrifying.
It was also, she realized, wonderful.
But right now, mostly it was embarrassing.
Her face flushed as she beca acutely aware of all the eyes upon her.
She cleared her throat, struggling to reassemble her fractured composure.
"Ah. I...apologize, Luca." She couldn’t quite et his eyes. "I only ant to ask a few questions. But then more ca, and more, and I..."
She trailed off, mortified.
But Luca waved a hand dismissively, his expression warm.
"Not at all. I’m genuinely glad you’re opening up to . It’s nice to see."
"And if you have more questions, please—ask away."
Leona hesitated. She really should stop. She had already revealed too much, shown too much enthusiasm, embarrassed herself enough for one day.
But...
"There is actually one more question. And it’s whether—"
But she stopped herself when she saw that Luca’s expression had shifted to sothing almost comically resigned.
"What...wrong?" She asked in confusion. "Why are looking at like I did sothing wrong?"
And in response Luca admitted with a chuckle,
"No, it’s just that I was honestly thinking you’d just say you were done and you wouldn’t ask any further questions."
"I wasn’t expecting you to ask another one, right after."
This caught Leona off guard and made her feel quite embarrassed, while Luca went on to say in amusent,
"After all, you’ve asked about literally everything, Leona."
"You’ve asked about the barrel, the trigger, the scope, the bullets, the rifling, the tals used, the manufacturing process, the history, the ballistics, the wind compensation, the—"
"—basically everything."
"And at this point, I think you might actually know more about this gun than the person who made it."
He let out a chuckle and went on to say,
"So, I didn’t there was actually another question left to ask and was surprised when you asked another one. But nonetheless..."
"...it’s quite cute, the way you’re enthusiastic over the gun."
He gave her gentle smile, while her ears turned red.
"It pulls you out of the image of being the Cold Matriarch everyone sees you as and instead makes you like a little girl who’s never seen the world before, but wants to know more."
"...It’s rather adorable if I have to say."
Hearing this, Leona’s embarrassnt increased by tenfold and her face was burning in sha.
He was basically making fun of her overwhelming curiosity and treating her like a little girl.
But more then that, it flickered into sothing else—mild indignation.
"Y-You can’t say that, Luca!"
Leona protested to save her dignity.
"After all, you’re the one who told I could ask!"
"So, you can’t tell to ask questions and then act surprised when I actually do!"
"That’s...That’s not nice!"
"Fair, fair. That definitely is my fault. You did nothing wrong and I’m the one at fault here."
Luca held up his hands in surrender while finding her reaction to be rather adorable.
But Leona still seed to be angry for turning on her and making fun of her.
So to appease that small pout on her face, he added,
"You know what, forget I even said anything."
"Instead go ahead and ask whatever you want. I’m not judging anymore."
Leona opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Now it felt awkward. Now it felt like asking would be admitting that she really, really wanted to know.
But she really did want to know.
So, she gave in.
"Well..."
She said, reaching toward the scope mounted on the rifle, her fingers gently touching its adjustnt dials.
"I was wondering about the stabilization of the scope itself. Do you use this pin to adjust it, or is it this wheel here?"
"And how exactly does it maintain zero when—"
She tugged gently on the scope, trying to demonstrate the chanism she was referring to.
But to her shock—a soft click was heard and the scope actually detached from the rifle!
And seeing this, Leona froze up on the spot.
In her left hand: the sniper rifle.
In her right hand: the scope.
Separate. Apart. Broken.
Leona stared at the two pieces in horror.
The world narrowed to the sudden, awful silence.
Then panic arrived like a thunderclap.
"I—I’m so sorry!"
The words burst out before she could stop them.
"I didn’t an—I was only trying to show you—I didn’t pull that hard—I swear I didn’t—"
She looked from the detached scope to the rifle, then up at Luca’s face, eyes wide with genuine horror.
"It just ca off! I wasn’t trying to break it—I would never—"
She clutched both pieces closer to her chest as though she could sohow undo the separation through sheer force of will.
And before Luca could say that she didn’t break anything and that it was actually removable, Leona actually started mumbling to herself in a panic.
"What do I do? What do I do? This—this must be worth a fortune. Everything about it is so precise, so delicate...I can’t believe I broke it the first ti I touched it properly—"
Her breathing hitched.
"I have to repay him. I have to. I can’t just—just ruin sothing this incredible and walk away."
Luca opened his mouth.
But before he could say anything, she looked up at him and barreled on, words tumbling faster.
"I-I don’t have money, Luca. Not the kind that would matter in your world."
"But I do have sothing. Sothing precious. Sothing that can definitely compensate for what I’ve done. And that is..."
She swallowed hard and finally said,
"...My lucky arrow."
"...Your lucky arrow?"
Luca blinked, not expecting such a answer.
"Yes! My lucky arrow! I’ve had it since I was a child."
Leona ignored the dumbfounded look on his face and nodded vigorously before she went on to enthusiastically say,
"It’s not like other arrows—it’s special. Whenever I nock it, no matter the distance, no matter the wind...it always hits dead center. Always."
"I’ve never missed with it. Not once! Can you believe that!"
Her fingers unconsciously brushed the small quiver at her hip where the single, feather-fletched shaft waited.
"I’ve kept it safe all these years. It’s...It’s the most valuable thing I own."
A shadow of reluctance crossed her face as she said,
"But I broke your weapon. So I have to take responsibility. That’s only right."
She drew a steadying breath, squared her shoulders, and t his eyes with fierce, almost painful conviction.
"That’s why ’ll give you my lucky arrow. As compensation. I believe that it will be more then enough to pay for what I’ve broken."
There was conviction in her voice.
But beneath it—
Sadness.
Because she was offering the most precious thing she owned.
User Comments
0 comments from readers