College, what a blast!

Ryme was practically suppressing tears as her father escorted her out. She was horrible at everything, everything, archery included.
Sword fighting, horse back riding, stitching, archery, crocheting, running, and every other thing she had ever tried, especially dancing.
As they walked into the large stadium Ryme could feel the sweat on her brow. She snuck a glance at Nalo; he was looking cool and collected as he strode toward the targets, no worry all, which caused Ryme to worry all the more.
“Ladies always first, as is polite.” Nalo said handing her the bow. The slick oak suddenly felt harsh in her fingers, and her throat felt like sandpaper as she stopped with the rest of the party in front of the targets.
“No please, you are my father’s guests.” She managed to croak out, and stretched her arm out offering the bow.
“But I would feel extremely rude.” He told her with a smile. Ryme could feel the falsity of it radiating from him, even as she slowly nodded and pulled her stretched out arm back.
The smile he gave her made her almost want to cry, he seemed to hate her so much already. She resisted a sniffle as she faced the target that also made her want to cry, she was no good at this. She was going to fail, and her father would be ashamed.
“I may as well give it my best.” Ryme mumbled to herself. Notching an arrow to the bow she took aim and prepared to aim.
And when she let loose this arrow, it missed flew into the wall of the stadium and came zooming back at her.
Before Ryme even had a chance to let out a scream she was being tackled to the ground. She hit the hard packed dirt with a very unladylike ‘umph’. And she didn’t move for what felt like the longest time.
The weight on the top of her may have had something to do with that. She could hardly breathe and her face was being pushed into the grass so she couldn’t speak, though that didn’t stop her from trying.
“Mfffpppttt!!” She yelled into the ground. Even she didn’t know what she had said.
The weight lifted off of her and she pushed herself up off the ground. Her hands were shaky and she could barely pull herself up. A chocolate colored arm helped her, and her eyes met with those of Monsieur DeVallée, his son too rude to reach for her as he dusted himself off, at least he had saved her.
She thanked Monsieur DeVallée, but her eyes never left Nalo’s, he was looking at her, but not the same way, it was as if he was trying to decide something.
“Then I suppose it is my turn?” Nalo asked, the smirk replaced itself on his lovely face as he addressed her father.
“Of course my boy, unless you want to shoot at us too!” Ryme’s father joked as she turned bright red.
The other men laughed at her plight as Ryme looked defiantly toward the stable. Rohan, one of the stable boys, walked out, and waved to her, then pointed to the arrow sticking into the side of the barn.
Ryme waved back and turned around; she did not wish to be taunted by him as well.
She watched as Nalo lined up his shot. He was so sure, she thought, the way that he stood was so proud and commanding, like he could rule the world.
It was the same way her father looked.
As he let loose the arrow it show true and hit the target dead on. Ryme let out a silent, defeated, sigh. He was good, just as good as she had expected. Ryme supposed he was just as good at all those things she was horrible at.
The thought of him stitching made her smile a bit though, as she looked defiantly at the ground. But she did not miss her father’s conversation with Monsieur DeVallée.
“Your son has excellent aim; no doubt this is not his only talent?” Her father asked.
“No, Nalo is very gifted with the sword, and hand-to-hand is somewhat of a specialty of his.” Monsieur bragged. “It does perplex me that you let you daughter do this though.” He added.
Ryme grew worried her father would be offended; she knew most girls did only stitching, crocheting, dancing, and singing. The other noble girls teased her about her boyish tendencies enough for her to realize what she was doing was abnormal, not that it kept her from it.
“I have no sons, and I think that she should be able to defend herself.” He father told him, thankfully not offended.
“You make a good point.” Monsieur DeVallée said, and Ryme lifted her eyes a bit to see him nod at her father. “Does she know hand-to-hand?” He asked.
Ryme grew scared for a moment, she had learned hand-to-hand a little when she was younger, but she had hurt herself so badly trying to be good at it that the instructor would not teach her anymore for fear of her hurting herself severely.
Ryme could not stand being horrible at things, which is why she kept up with all the things she was so horrible at. Even though she lost horribly all the time, the stable boys were supportive, but she knew that they laughed at her, as did her father’s knights, and so would Monsieur DeVallée and Nalo if they knew.
“Only a bit, the instructor said she was a danger to herself, why?” Her father asked.
“I was thinking that, because Nalo is so well trained in the subject,” Ryme head whipped up, she looked at Nalo, he was looking at her the same way, as if to scream ‘no!’ “He could teach her, if you want her to be safe that is?”
Ryme was beginning to think that Monsieur DeVallée was an evil man behind all those smiles.