Wrong Marriage and Sweet Love

The head guard knelt on the ground with a thud.

“Your Highness, please punish me alone. It was my dereliction of duty.”

The other guards also knelt but did not plead for themselves. Instead, they spoke in unison, “Please punish us, Your Highness.”

According to palace rules and their own sense of honor, pleading for oneself or accepting someone else’s plea was seen as weakness and disgrace. Family honor was more important than life itself, so there was no other choice.

Clint waved his hand, and an attendant hurried to prepare cherries.

Joyce clenched her fist, biting down hard, her gaze becoming sharp.

Clint raised an eyebrow. “What? Are you not confident?”

“Confidence is not the key issue,” Joyce said through gritted teeth.

“Then what is the key issue?” Clint asked curiously.

“You wouldn’t understand even if I told you,” Joyce replied dismissively. She stretched her arms, doing some warm-up exercises. After all, she wasn’t training every day now, and lives were at stake; she had to be cautious.

Clint patted the coffee table beside him. “Sit. Let them prepare while you have a cup of tea with me.”

After a moment’s thought, Joyce sat down next to him.

“Why do you have to do this?” she asked. “If you’re doing it to show me something, it’s unnecessary.”

“Rules are rules,” Clint smiled. “Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing your skills firsthand.”

“If you just want to see me shoot, you could take me to the shooting range. The effect would be the same,” Joyce frowned. “Why risk their safety?”

“What? No confidence in yourself?” Clint glanced at Joyce, his eyes gleaming. “A shooting range is so dull and boring compared to real people.”

Joyce scoffed. Boring or interesting-was that all he cared about? He was truly twisted.

Clint handed Joyce a cup of tea.

Her throat parched, Joyce took the cup and drank it all in one go. The refreshing green tea cooled her lungs and calmed her chest. Anger was a shooter’s worst enemy; she needed to stabilize her emotions completely.

After finishing the tea, she set the cup down in silence.

Clint watched her thoughtfully, a playful and expectant look on his face. He genuinely wanted to see her abilities and felt a thrill of excitement.

Soon, the attendant brought cherries.

At Clint’s signal, the guards stood up and lined up in a row.

The attendant walked over and placed a cherry on each guard’s head.

Then he handed Clint a pistol as requested.

Clint examined the pistol carefully before handing it to Joyce.

Joyce took it-a small-caliber pistol. At least Clint hadn’t gone too far by giving her a large-caliber one; otherwise, no matter how accurate her shooting was, the bullet might graze their scalps, leading to bloody results.

Joyce weighed the pistol in her hand, feeling its weight thoroughly. She closed her eyes to mentally simulate its model, recoil, wind speed, trajectory, and drop before opening them again quickly.

“We can start now,” she said abruptly, standing up.

She took a step forward and stood about ten meters away from the guards.

Standing firm.

Everyone held their breath-including the attendants and maids watching nearby. Some timid maids dared not turn their backs for fear of disrespecting the prince; they could only lower their heads deeply.

The row of guards was extremely tense but dared not show it; they stood rigidly at attention.

Fortunately, they were all selected through rigorous processes and had basic composure; they stood motionless.Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Joyce’s main concern was that their fear-induced trembling might affect her aim.

However, she noticed one young guard trembling in fear-a dangerous sign.

She thought for a moment.

Turning to Clint:

“Can I fire a few practice shots into the sky or forest first? It’s been a while since I handled a gun; I need to get used to it.”

Clint nodded while sipping his tea.

Joyce shouted at the guards ahead: “Don’t watch me; I’ll fire some practice shots into the sky and forest first. When I’m ready to start for real, I’ll let you know.”

The guards relaxed slightly upon hearing this and no longer felt as tense or stiff.

They responded in unison: “Yes.”

Joyce pretended to aim at targets in the sky-birds flying by-and then at the forest.

She aimed once more before suddenly lowering her gun toward the trembling young guard’s cherry-topped head. With a bang followed by several rapid shots-practically sweeping fire-she fired quickly and repeatedly.

Everyone thought Joyce was still practicing on trees when she suddenly stopped shooting and dusted off her hands.

“I’m done.”

Then she shouted at the guards: “What are you waiting for? I’ve already shot all your cherries off.”

The guards felt it-the impact close above their heads-but it happened so fast they couldn’t react immediately.

Clint was stunned; he hadn’t even seen clearly when she started officially. He thought she was still practicing on trees but in the blink of an eye…

She had finished everything.

The head guard touched his head where the cherry had been-finding only juice left behind by bullets that had sent it flying who knows where.

Seeing him move prompted other guards also touched their heads-realizing it wasn’t an illusion after all:

The woman before them-the renowned sharpshooter-had indeed fired already and hit every cherry.

Clint stood up abruptly; his eyes flickered unpredictably as he clenched his fists involuntarily:

He knew she was skilled but hadn’t expected such prowess-

Worried about nervous guards affecting her performance,

She pretended practice shots,

Then swiftly fired while everyone relaxed-

Averaging less than one second per shot-

Hitting all targets within seconds-

Unexpectedly fast,

Accurate,

Without tormenting anyone-

She truly wasn’t simple!