Deviating from the original plot

Chapter seventy-three

The guard called the competitors forward. Cassius strutted to his mark, accepting a polished javelin from a soldier. He planted his feet and threw with a precise form — a solid, well-aimed shot that arced and embedded in the ground at a respectable distance. The crowd gave a polite murmur of approval.

Victoria swallowed and gripped her metal shaft. The javelin felt lighter than it looked. She cleared her mind of the chaos, breathed in, then planted her foot and launched.

The javelin cut clean through the air, striking the ground well beyond Cassius's mark. It shuddered as it lodged deep into the turf, and the watching guards broke into startled murmurs.

Cassius's smirk collapsed, his jaw tightening.

The officiating guard hesitated, then raised his hand. "V–Victoria Valenford... takes the first round!"

Victoria exhaled sharply, then squared her shoulders. "That's one victory. By your own words, we're free."

Cassius snapped his head toward her, eyes blazing. "Don't delude yourself. We still have two more trials. That throw proves nothing. A gust of wind could've carried it farther for you."

Evelyn crossed her arms. "Oh, come on. If the wind were that strong, your throw would've flown farther too."

Celeste smirked. "Face it. You lost a round."

The prince's nostrils flared, but he turned sharply toward the guards. "Set up the next challenge."

A squad of soldiers wheeled in a heavy cart, the wood creaking under the weight of two massive sand-filled crates. One after another, the crates were hauled off and fitted with thick leather harnesses.

The guard raised his voice to the crowd. "The rules are simple: each contestant must shoulder their load and drag it to the checkpoint. The first to cross the finish line will be declared the winner."

Cassius cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, arrogance etched into every movement. "This is no challenge for ordinary women," he taunted, his grin sharp, though the flicker in his eyes betrayed unease. "You'd be wiser to surrender now and save yourself the humiliation."

Victoria merely adjusted the straps of her harness, unimpressed. "You talk too much," she muttered, stepping into position.

"You're actually going through with this?" Cassius laughed. "Very well. Let's see how long your bravado lasts."

The guard raised a hand. "On your marks! Ready... go!"

Cassius lunged forward first, muscles straining as the sand-crate scraped stubbornly against the ground. His teeth clenched with effort as the box jerked forward, gouging a deep trail into the dirt.

Victoria leaned into her harness—and to her surprise, the weight shifted with far less resistance than she expected. Her crate slid smoothly behind her, the crate hissing as it dragged across the sand. The only thing that grated on her nerves was the screeching groan of wood against grit.

Still, she pressed forward with steady strides, the box gliding in her wake. Where Cassius fought for every inch, his breath already laboured, Victoria advanced with ease, pulling ahead to the astonishment of the gathered soldiers.

Evelyn and Celeste cheered for their friend as the race continued.

Cassius's head whipped toward Victoria, his pride flaring as he saw her gaining distance. His jaw tightened, fury flashing in his eyes.

"Impossible," he spat, digging his heels harder into the ground. "I won't be beaten by you."

Cassius snarled and hauled against the harness, veins bulging in his arms and neck. The crate behind him groaned forward, leaving deep furrows in the sand. Every step looked like agony.