Page 30 of The Heartless Archer

Kai froze. Their chests heaving, both of them stared each other down. One with fiery rage, the other with icy indifference. Noora could see she hit a nerve and she desperately wanted him to keep going. She needed to fight, to somehow blame this whole mess on anyone else than herself. But she knew it was hers. She should’ve known that she didn’t have that much luck. It was her damn fault, for not thinking further and hiding the gold somewhere else.

Kai turned abruptly, walking over to grab his jacket off the floor. Noora could see him wincing when he leaned down, with his sudden movements the stitching would fly open in no time.

Yet he stashed the pain away and stalked over to her still furious.

He stretched out a gloved hand, palm up, seeming to wait for something.

“What?” she spat out, trying her dearest to hold in the tears. She was not going to cry in front of him. Please do not let her cry in front of him.

“My Kronen.” His clipped voice made her look at him in surprise. How could he know?

He raised a light brow, something wicked twisting his smile. “What, you think I don’t know when someone has gone through my stuff? Give me the gold, little thief.”

“I don’t know whatever you are talking about.” She went for nonchalant.

Kai sighed. “Listen, either you hand me over what belongs to me or we can talk about this in the palace. I heard the dungeons are rather cosy, you won’t be alone with all those spiders and cockroaches.”

She narrowed her gaze at him. Did he really think she feared insects? Though Noora did want to avoid getting thrown into captivity, it would be a rather inconvenient turn of events.

With a last ounce of dignity, she pulled out the heavy coins, letting them drop into his hand. The coins clinked against each other, a sound so soft like raindrops hitting the earth.

There went her last hope.

“I can’t believe I thought you were her,” he mumbled, suddenly looking wistful.

Noora decided not to give him the satisfaction of asking him who he was talking about. “The next time a bear comes across you, I’ll wish it a delightful meal.”

Kai clenched his jaw and she watched his shoulders lock up before he burst past her.

A low whine came from the corner and she saw that the white wolf still lingered.

“What do you want now? Because of you I got into this situation, wasting my time with an injured idiot. Just piss off!”

The words echoed around the barn.

The wolf looked at her for another moment, before bursting through the doors, probably following Kai.

Outraged with everything, Noora’s knuckles turned white around the grip of her dagger.

She threw it at one of the dusty windows, the blade embedding into the glass.

The dagger stuck there unmoving, only the grip vibrating from the force of her throw. Nothing happened for a moment. Then she heard it. The telltale sound of the glass splitting. Thin spiderwebbed lines ran away from the blade, racing each otherto reach the frame of the window. The lines spread until there was nowhere else to go and the glass broke with a burst, tiny pieces of glass raining down onto the ground right where Kai’s jacket was lying seconds ago.

A few dark specks littered the floor, soaking into the hay lying all around.

Chapter 13

Nikolai

Never had anyone seen the king rush past the palace halls with this much dedication.

The lapels of his jacket were lightly flying behind his straightened back, the flickering lights reflecting in his eyes. A stern look sat upon Nikolai’s face, his hands clutching the small velvet box as if his life depended upon it. Raphael made sure to get their horses back into the barns as their unsuccessful trip laid heavily upon the king’s shoulders. The lands were rotting. He suspected as much but he never guessed the rot to spread this fast.

It was his failure. He was the one responsible for this blight and knowing that his subjects would bear the consequences, hell, they already were, made him realise what he had to do. The tournament was ready to be held in a few days’ time, besides he still needed to carry out his duty.

Without knocking he burst through the doors, leading into the royal library to find his desired goal.

Princess Aileen-Akamu was perched on a red velvet settee, a book settled in her hands. She was dressed in the rich colour of honey, reflecting beautifully with her skin tone. The fabric wound around her body like a second skin, clinging to the lithe shape of it.

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