"Like that—yeah! You got it!" Eustace exclaimed, his voice carrying a bright, encouraging lilt. He stood close behind his lover, guiding their hands over the bow with practiced ease. The weapon itself was old, its wooden frame worn down by years of use, yet it still held an undeniable power—one that felt almost magical in his grip.

As the youngest prince of Avaloria, Eustace had long accepted that the throne would never be his. But he refused to live in the shadow of his elder brothers; he needed something of his own, a legacy that would carry his name beyond royal bloodlines. And so, he had chosen the bow. Becoming the greatest archer in the kingdom was no easy feat, but it was a title he would gladly claim. The front strands of his black hair lightly brushed against his lover’s cheek as he adjusted their stance, ensuring their fingers curled properly around the string. His touch was gentle but precise, guiding them with the same patience he had honed through years of training.

Eustace grinned, eyes alight with anticipation. "Alright, now try shooting that tree—right in the center," he encouraged, nodding toward a sturdy oak a few meters away. "It might take some practice, but I know you can do it." His voice was warm, laced with both confidence and excitement, as if their success would be just as much his own.