The throne was warm, but I sat stiffly, my back rod-straight, my chin lifted ever-so-slightly. I kept my gaze sharp and my eyes calculating as each of the nobles or servants entered the hall. Some bowed and knelt low before me, and I took note of their faces, remembering which ones had greeted me before. The court was filled with a murmuring of gossip.

I leaned back slightly, raising my voice to be heard over the noise. "Whoever can string my wife's old bow and shoot through twelve axes cleanly will be the new king," I proclaimed. "Be seated atop the throne and rule with me as his queen." I finished, and was rewarded with a flurry of whispers. The men in the room muttered to eachother, their voices low. The words 'impossible' and 'insane' floated to my ears.

I scrutinized each of the nobles carefully, noting the subtle expressions on each of their faces. Some were undoubtedly cocky, believing themselves to be the most skilled archery, despite their mediocrity. However, I was well aware that no one could match the skill and technique of my wife.

This challenge I had set was not meant to be easily overcome. It was a ploy to ensure that no other could usurp my position beside her.

This act of mine was cunning, to be certain. I knew that the nobles before me were too arrogant to see the true purpose behind my challenge. They all believed themselves to be the strongest and most capable of the bunch, but I held no delusions. I knew that the only one capable of passing this trial was my wife.

And so I waited, watching as the nobles began to attempt the task. I kept my face impassive, my expression unchanging, despite the amusement I felt inside. I had witnessed countless men try to match my wife's skill, and not one could even come close.