The Calamity of a Reborn Witch

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The Duchess attempted to rest the crossbow awkwardly across her arm as she waited for Captain Beaumont. Although she refused to admit it, Carina found it difficult to meet the captain’s gaze. She wasn’t sure if it was the strange amethyst color itself, but Beaumont’s eyes were simply different from other people. They had a peculiar depth or otherness that both pulled and warned her to keep her distance.

‘It also doesn’t help that the last time we were alone in the forest together—we—happened to—’

“Are you comfortable with it yet?” Beaumont asked as he leaned down to pick up the linen sack. He glanced towards the lever tucked in her belt as he rose and motioned for her to follow. “Best if we try at an easy five yards first.”

“Alright,” Carina replied and trailed behind him, glancing over her shoulder just once to confirm they were as alone as she felt. ‘Why was Nicholas so determined to make this happen anyway?’

“Here is good.” The knight captain dropped his sack along the path and motioned the Duchess to stand beside him. “Hold it like you’re going to shoot so I can check your posture.”

“Butt to the shoulder?” Carina asked as she hefted the weapon up against her arm.

Beaumont nodded as he moved her left hand up the shaft. “Support it here, but don’t—”

“Put my fingers on top where the string will hit them?” Carina turned towards him with a smirk and blinked as he rewarded her with a rare smile of his own.

“There’s a leather shoulder guard that would be worth investing in,” Beaumont continued as he focused on her shoulder. “Firing a couple times now won’t do too much, but a full day’s hunting and your shoulder will be singing another story.”

“I’ll look into that.”

“Feet shoulder with apart, left foot forward, then align your shoulders—” He paused and chuckled as Carina shifted into a familiar pose that came almost naturally. “You’ve done this before?”

“What? Ah—no, but I’ve seen the knights at Bastiallano train—from a distance.”

‘Not exactly a lie, but explaining that my body sometimes remembers things Kirsi has done would be a bit much.’

The knight captain nodded as he circled behind her. “Remember the feel of that position. It will be a little bit different in the saddle, but you’ll get plenty of practice tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Carina murmured as she leaned her cheek lightly against the stock. “What now?”

“Now we load it,” Beaumont replied as he reached around her waist to tug the iron lever free. “Here, I’ll demonstrate the first time around.”

The Duchess flushed as she stepped to the side and handed the crossbow to him.

“Front hook against the string like so. These two back hooks rest here and here,” Beaumont explained as he lined the lever up with the bowstring and two metal iron pins on either side of the tiller. “Now you can either use the stirrup like so—” he lowered the crossbow to the ground and motioned with his boot to imply standing on it, “—but since you’ll be hunting in the saddle tomorrow, the second option is better.”

Carina watched as the knight captain pressed the but of the crossbow against his hip. She nodded when he glanced her way.

“Now, two things before you start,” Beaumont continued as he gestured to a small metal hook behind the string. “You want to roll the nut forward like so, then depress the trigger—” he slid his fingers down to the thin strip of metal beneath the crossbow and pressed it firmly against the wood. “Then, once you have it steady, pull back on the lever in one continuous motion like so.”

Carina nodded silently as the knight captain pulled the lever, and the string slid back before clicking into place behind the small bit of metal he had called the nut.

“When you hear that sound, that means the trigger is engaged. Now we can load the bolt.” He motioned to the pouch of short arrows beside his sack, from which Carina hastily pulled a bolt. “Thank you. First of all, this is a bolt, not an arrow. It is easy to tell the difference because they’re shorter and heavier than normal arrows. See the three feathers here?”

The Duchess nodded patiently.

“Line one of them up with the grove of your crossbow and push it back against the string firmly, like so. And—here.”

Carina blinked as the knight captain offered the loaded weapon to her but carefully placed it against her shoulder, resuming her earlier position.

“Good. Now, sighting your weapon requires two constant points of measurement,” Beaumont murmured, his voice dangerously close to her ear as his finger moved into focus. “First, your front sight. That’s going to be the tip of your arrow.”

Carina nodded and shivered despite the heat as the knight captain brushed her hair away from her cheek.

“You have a small metal sight here that flips up,” Beaumont explained as he pushed the simple piece of metal with a circular tip upright and locked it into place. “Not something every soldier gets but standard for hunting weapons. Now, line the sights up until they're both in line with the center of the target.”

Carina shifted her position slightly as she attempted to follow his instructions. A cold numbness spread across her fingers as her trembling arms steadied, and the leaves of the birch tree grew still.

“Good,” Beaumont whispered, his voice and presence now further away. “Place your fingers on the trigger gently, and only squeeze when you’re ready to shoot.”

Within seconds of pulling the trigger, the bolt sank into the center of the target. The Duchess barely noticed the thud of the crossbow against her shoulder as she tried to hide her grin and turned to Beaumont for approval.

The knight captain raised a thick blonde brow while a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “I can see you’re feeling confident now. Let’s try from ten feet away.”

“Alright,” Carina replied, attempting to look serious for her instructor.

“And you can pull back the lever this time, your Grace.”

‘Ah.’ The Duchess nodded, suddenly feeling less confident. After a few fumbling attempts, which Beaumont interrupted once to align the lever properly and then again to help her position it against her hip, Carina managed to pull back the string.

“It will get easier with practice,” Beaumont replied with a reassuring nod as he offered her a new bolt. “Load. Line up your sights. And fire when ready.”

The second bolt hit the second ring from the center. The Duchess frowned but turned to the knight captain, who was already moving further back along the path.

“Now try from twenty feet away.”

“Should I adjust my aim since we’re further back?”

“The trajectory will stay roughly the same for a good thirty feet,” Beaumont replied as he watched her align the lever. “Make sure you depress the trigger first and check the nut.”

“Right,” Carina mumbled as she slid the nut forward, depressed the trigger, then ensured she had the lever properly aligned and tried to pull it back in one motion. She managed it on her second attempt.

‘Just like sword training, it takes practice and muscle memory.’

Beaumont handed her another bolt and took two steps back while she loaded the crossbow and lined up her sights. The third bolt landed between the second ring and center circle.

‘Huh. I guess he was right after all.’

“Let’s try thirty and then move back ten feet with each shot.”

“Okay,” Carina replied enthusiastically, trying to ignore the faint tremble in her right arm. “And thank you, Captain, for offering to teach me.”

Beaumont paused and kicked a rough line in the ground before turning to meet her gaze. “It’s no trouble at all, your Grace. I’m happy to be of help.”

‘There it is again—just when I start to feel comfortable around him—a wall comes up.’

The Duchess shook her head and focused on the lever in her hand.

Carina groaned when her sixth shot from fifty feet barely hit the bottom of the target.

“Just adjust your sights a little bit higher,” Beaumont prompted encouragingly. “Here, I’ll load it for you.”

“No, I can manage,” Carina replied stubbornly. “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.” She smiled as her first attempt brought the string back with a successful click, then lined up the bolt in the grove. Beaumont stepped in closer and placed his fingers over her left hand as he raised the tip of the crossbow slightly. “See the difference? Now try.”

The Duchess drew in a slow breath to steady the restless feeling that seemed to frolic through her chest whenever Beaumont stood too close. She lined up her sights, lifted the crossbow to the point he had shown her, and pulled the trigger.

The bolt hit the second ring with a distant thud.

“The farther back I go, the more I have to adjust for the difference?”

“We’re about fifty feet back,” Beaumont replied with a nod to the marks left along the dry dirt and grass. “You’ll be lucky to get within a hundred yards of a deer with a full hunting party behind you. And luckier still if both you and the target aren’t moving when you take your shot.”

‘That sounds impossible,’ Carina mused worriedly. ‘Perhaps I should ask Kirsi for help.’

“Let’s shoot a few more times from here. Then we’ll move back another twenty feet,” Beaumont suggested patiently as he pulled another bolt from the pouch.

The Duchess sighed as she rubbed her numb right hand against her dress, then pulled the lever from her belt once more. Her third shot at fifty feet managed to hit the center of the target, but when Beaumont moved her back to eighty feet, she only hit the second ring once.

“Five shots from one hundred feet, and we’ll call it a day,” her relentless instructor prompted as he shook the dwindling bag of bolts.

Carina nodded then raised her hand to shield her eyes as she studied the two figures walking towards them from around the Bastiallano knight tents. “Is that his Majesty and Lady Hana returning?”

Beaumont finished drawing the last mark into the sand and turned in the indicated direction. “No.” The knight captain straightened and laid the pouch of bolts against the sack they had already reached.

The Duchess frowned, squinted, and quickly realized that neither of the men heading in their direction was wearing a dress—or the uniform of a Bastiallano knight. “They must be nobles. I wonder what they—” She blinked as she took in the familiar face with chestnut-brown hair. “Ah.”

“Ah?” The knight captain stepped back to stand alongside her. “Do you know them?”

“The one in front is my—half-sister’s fiancé,” Carina replied sullenly.

“Ahh,” Beaumont echoed softly with another glance in her direction. “I see.”

❆❆❆❆❆

“Your Grace!” Asher greeted with an enthusiastic bow. “I hope we are not disturbing you.”

Carina offered him a half-hearted smile and then nodded towards the two longbows they carried. “Are you looking for a place to practice?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind sharing?” Asher glanced back at his companion, who was dabbing sweat from his collar with a blue handkerchief. “The rest of the forest edge appears to be taken up by either Earl Hawthorne or Marquess Borghese’s hunting party. But first, allow me to introduce my cousin, Lord Rufous Hearish.”

“Your Grace.” Rufous promptly dipped into a dramatic bow before resuming his efforts to dry his face. “Miserable weather we’re having.”

“It is hot,” Carina replied, suddenly noticing that all of them were sweating aside from her, even Captain Beaumont. She glanced at her temporary instructor worriedly. ‘How does he manage to look so unbothered despite wearing all that heavy metal and ridiculous uniform.’ The sudden image of Beaumont without his shirt, half-buried in the ground, resurfaced, and the Duchess hastily cleared her throat. “We—ah—we were just about to take a break, so you may use the practice target if you like.”

Beaumont glanced at her silently, then turned to pick up the nearly empty pouch and sack.

“You are too kind, Duchess,” Asher replied with a polite head bow. “But—I was wondering—”

‘And here it comes.’ Carina crossed her arms and waited with a resigned grimace.

“—if we could join your hunting party?”

‘Oh?’ The Duchess blinked and masked her surprised with an inquisitive brow. ‘I thought he’d be here asking for financial aid for Sophya, now that she’s no longer stands to inherit Gilwren.’

“My hunting party?” Carina repeated uncertainly.

“Yes,” Asher responded promptly. When the Duchess didn’t react, he glanced inquisitively at Captain Beaumont, noted the royal uniform, and bowed his head politely. “That is—if you still have space.”

‘More than enough, actually.’ The Duchess pressed her lips together. ‘His request makes sense, given his relationship with Sophya and yet—’

“I would prefer not to mingle in my sister’s affairs, Lord Asher,” Carian replied with calm disinterest. “I’m sure you understand.”

Judging by the way Asher’s polite smile crumpled quickly into a disappointed scowl—he did not.

“Pardon, your Grace, but—may I ask why?” Asher shifted his grip on his bow anxiously as he studied her. “If you’re worried that we won’t be of any use, then we can demonstrate our skill here and now.”

“It’s not your skill that concerns me, Lord Asher, but your interest in inserting yourself into a party with myself and his Majesty.”

“What are you—” Asher cut off as he shook his head incredulously. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means that you have no reason to impose yourself upon his Majesty simply because you happen to be engaged to my half-sister.”

Rufous scoffed but quickly dropped his gaze when Asher’s glare swung in his direction.

“Perhaps I was not clear enough the last time you asked me for my help,” Carina continued with an icy stare. “But Sophya and I have nothing to do with one another, which makes you, Lord Asher, a stranger I neither care to know nor help.”

The wind stirred the dry dust and dirt around them, pushing the loose soil back into the line Beaumont had left in the field ground. Carina blinked slowly, wishing she had brought her fan to shield her eyes from both the sun and wind, as she maintained her focus on Asher’s struggling expression.

The noble opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, like a drowning fish out of the water, then finally pressed his lips together as he dropped his gaze.

“It seems—that I have made a blunder in approaching you,” Asher forced out through gritted teeth. “Despite all the assistance my family has given yours over the years.”

“Ahh, well, I can assure you, Lord Asher, that none of that assistance reached me,” Carina replied with a cold, cynical smile. “If you are looking to collect on a debt, then I would suggest you speak with your fiancé—or perhaps Viscount Gilwren.”

Another storm of emotions made its way across Asher’s face before he suddenly stepped forward. The nobleman abruptly halted as Beaumont intercepted him. Carina blinked as she glanced up into the Captain’s face, then froze when a familiar expression, a threatening glare she had seen repeatedly in Maura’s memories, transformed Beaumont’s usually placid but stern expression into one drawn from her nightmares.

‘Stop!’ Carina pressed a trembling hand against her chest as she retreated behind the Captain. ‘I don’t even know if those memories are real.’ She flinched at the sound of steel hammers driving iron spikes into the earth up at the camp. The all too eerie sound of an ax striking a bloody block of wood echoed behind her ears.

Asher stammered inaudibly, then spun on his heels and left, dragging a confused Rufous behind him.

“I take it you don’t have a good relationship with this half-sister,” Beaumont murmured as he turned around to face her. His relaxed brows furrowed as he took in the expression the Duchess wore. “Your Grace?”

“I-I believe it is time I headed back to check on Lady Ivy,” Carina whispered as she lowered her hand, then stepped forward stiffly to offer him the crossbow. “Thank you for your time and—patience.”

“Is—everything alright?” Beaumont asked, ignoring the weapon that trembled in her outstretched arms.

“Yes! I’m—just more tired than I realized.” Unable to take even one more step towards him, the Duchess gestured with the crossbow impatiently. “If you would please return this to his Majesty.”

“Kirsi—”

The moment his fingers wrapped around the stock of the crossbow, Carina let go and sped her way through the matted field around him. The soft growl of Lumi’s voice echoed in her ears as a firm hand wrapped around her arm and held her back.

“Wait!” Beaumont tossed the crossbow onto the sack beside the pouch of arrows and pulled her gently around to face him. “Tell me why you’re afraid.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t lie to me, Kirsi!” His rough voice only fanned the cold flames trembling inside Carina’s chest until his tone softened. “Please—tell me why you’re trembling.”

The Duchess closed her eyes, embarrassed and struggling to calm the mental wounds left by Maura’s relentless pressure over the years. “It’s—nothing—they’re just—dreams.”

“Who’s dreams? Yours or—Kirsi?”

The thudding wall of fear closing in around her suddenly crumpled as Carina drew in a sharp breath. ‘What? How? Did he—know?’

“W-what do you mean?”

“Look at me.”

“Tell me what that means?”

“Just—look at me first, and I’ll explain,” Beaumont whispered firmly.

After a slow, steadying breath, Carina raised her gaze to meet his and felt her legs tremble. The wall between them was gone. His gaze held only the concern and worry that she had heard in his voice. The way he looked at her—‘It’s like he can see me. Not Maura, not Kirsi—but me?’

“Like you, I have memories of—other timelines,” Beaumont explained in a low whispered voice. “I’ve met Kirsi before—only once, but—it was enough to recognize her again.” His gaze that pulled and pushed in equal measure dropped towards her chest briefly before glancing away. “When I first realized you had Viktor’s heart, I was confused—because you were not Kirsi. Then you took her name—but came to save me—and I was even more confused.”

‘Ah, because Kirsi was also there that day.’ Carina blinked as warmth climbed up her cheeks. ‘Damn it, don’t think about that now.’

“But I’ve watched you since then. I considered the possibility that Kirsi might have changed a little with each timeline, but not this much. So, who are you?”

“You know of Kirsi’s legacy,” Carina whispered as she focused on the hilt of the giant sword above his shoulder. “Then you must be aware of the vessels Kirsi uses to be reborn.”

“You want me to believe you are the original owner of this body that Kirsi is living in?” Beaumont’s fingers and thumb grazed the bottom of her chin as he lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t believe that either.”

“What other explanation is there?”

‘No, what-what am I doing? Why am I—testing him? All I’ve wanted is for someone to see the real me and call me by my name.’

‘I know who you are, Carina,’ Viktor’s voice rumbled from the bracelet on her wrist. ‘You are not alone.’

‘Yes, that’s right. I have you, Viktor.’ The Duchess closed her eyes and smiled as she stepped firmly back and pulled her chin away from the knight captain’s hand.

Beaumont studied her with his solemn violet eyes that threatened to crumble the armor Carina had spent more than one lifetime building. “I can see that you’re not ready to tell me.”

The Duchess held back a sigh of relief as he released her and took a step back.

“But I know that you are neither Maura nor Kirsi.”

Carina’s smile faded as she watched him place the crossbow inside the sack with the pouch of arrows, then sling it over his shoulder with ease.

“I told you that I would not lie to you nor hurt you.” Beaumont turned around to face the Duchess with the same patient smile he had given her while instructing her with the crossbow. “I can wait as long as you need, but I hope one day you will tell me your true name.”

The late summer wind blew the ash-brown curls of her hair across Carina’s eyes as the knight captain continued up the path towards the waiting line of tents. The Duchess pressed her trembling fingers into the fold of her dress then looked down at the gloves she was wearing, the same gloves Beaumont had gifted her for her birthday.

‘I want to believe him.’ Carina wrapped her gloved hand into a fist as she took her first step along the path. ‘But I don’t know what Beaumont wants in return for his—friendship.’ Even if the Duchess had left her ghost behind in the royal palace, Maura’s whispered warnings still lingered in her mind. ‘As long as Beaumont remains Nicholas’s man, I can’t place my trust in him. Otherwise, the day the Crown Prince turns against me—I’ll have no one but myself to blame when Beaumont turns his blade on me as well.’

The reality of this future was only more apparent now, given that Maura’s birthday was two days away. The date signified a milestone in both Maura and Carina’s life. It meant that they both turned seventeen again, and Carina was but a few short months—and deadly encounters away—from Maura’s deathday.