Her Graceful War Song by Summer's Blaze

Chapter 867

It was both frustrating and amusing.

Carissa supported the limping Rafael as they slowly made their way down the mountain. His hair was a mess, sticking up in a strange, wet clump after hitting the snow, creating an odd, wild look.

His face was a patchwork of bruises-blue, purple, and red. The red came from a cut that had bled, luckily, the wounds were shallow and, combined with the cold, had stopped bleeding quickly. A lump the size of an egg swelled on his forehead, a sight that was both pitiful and funny.

Fighting, strategizing, and governing were all his strengths, but games like this? He was utterly lost. Sliding down the slope had turned into a comical disaster.

Who knew skiing could be so hazardous?

Everyone knew not to underestimate water, but mountains could be just as treacherous- especially mountains that only got covered with snow during the coldest days of winter, hiding sharp rocks just beneath the surface. The terrain here was nothing like the Southern Frontier, and back then he at least had armor. Here, he had none.

Rafael was mortified. He never expected that a simple act of skiing could result in such a humiliating tumble. He had hoped for a rare day off to bond with Carissa and create some meaningful memories they could cherish when they were older.

Well, this was certainly unforgettable. Carissa would likely remember this day for the rest of her life.

foot hurts, doesn't it?" she asked, noticing his

don't need to help me. I can manage on my own.

held on tighter, a playful pout in her tone. "No, I want

now, he felt defeated and utterly helpless, plus there was an excruciating pain in his

a little, making the trek down the mountain

help but wonder why he hadn't reacted in time to stabilize himself and leverage that moment to spring up. His once-proud Lightfoot Skill had utterly failed

it would be for Carissa to witness him fall. Then, his reflexes had betrayed him, and he had rolled down the

lifted his heavy gaze to the equally heavy sky. The only thing he felt grateful for was that the trek up the mountain had taken so long, while the descent was swift-though perhaps a

he caught sight of his trusty mount, a wave of frustration

the sting of tears welling up in his eyes as he swung himself onto the horse, trying in vain to tame his wild hair. The more he struggled, the

him, wanting to offer some words of comfort-but nothing seemed appropriate

back in the spring. I bet this place will be filled with

though a thousand thoughts

be perfect for a thunderstorm to strike Richspire Peak and erase it

the colorful bruises on his face. He felt a swell of indignation, but forced himself to act nonchalant as he rode alongside Carissa