Page 38 of The Heartless Archer

Maybe she should go, take Lulva, and escape.

He would forget her. Of course he would, while being distracted with the tournament he would not think of the half-witch he encountered one time in his life.

Noora could handle the people spitting after her, calling her names, and dealing with bullies like Isaak but not a Sosye.

She was not naïve enough not to know how dangerous they were.

“Noora?”

Noora flinched as someone called her name. No, not someone.

The crowd looked around, waiting for the contestant to step forward as the queen spoke again.“ Noora?”

It was her. She was the contestant to step forward.

Chapter 16

Noora

Noora did not know how she ended up in the carriage. She vaguely remembered being pulled off of Lulva by the guards, who helped her get through the raging crowd.

“No! What are you doing?” she protested, crying out for Lulva who stared at her surprised.

She only could remember her, standing there, her hair a red halo around her youthful face as Noora was announced to be the last contestant.

Of course, the people started complaining, throwing things onto the podium, shoes and hats.

One woman threw her bag against Noora.

The queen and her companions were rushed away immediately before the guards took care of the contestants, escorting them through the angry crowd and getting them to the royal carriages.

Noora’s body jumped as the carriage hit a bumpy part in the road but she did not care.

Another contestant was sitting opposite of her, his body taking up the whole place as he threw a nervous smile at her. Seeing Noora scream and hit the royal guards sure left an impression. She was still raging, she could not even say goodbye to Lulva, they just took her and left a child in a crowd so angry and dangerous. Noora felt like the walls of the carriage were caving in on her, swallowing her whole. She pushed the tips of her nails into her plush seat.

“I am Pika.” The boy didn’t need to even stretch his arm to reach her as he offered her his overly large hand. His fingers were chubby and short, his skin flawlessly clean. Nails bitten short to the quick.

“I know who you are,” Noora grumbled as she stared out of the window, watching the snowy landscape pass her.

They were bringing them to the ice palace.

She was too angry to focus on the literal witch hunter sitting opposite her but somehow her gut told her that Pika was not dangerous, something in his eyes glinted so kindly that she wanted to snuff it out with her bare hands.

“I am sure they will let you see your friend again at the tournament. She can watch you.” He tried again and this time Noora looked at him.

“Listen, whatever you think you’re doing, don’t. I do not care to converse with anyone, especially not a filthy Sosye.”

Pika flinched slightly in his seat. “I am not a Sosye.”

“Are you actually stupid? I can smell your heritage on you just as much as you can smell mine. So. Stop. Talking. To. Me,” she barked.

Pika kept his mouth shut after that, bathing the rest of the journey in silence.

Once the carriages came to a stop, Noora didn’t bother to wait for a servant to open the doors.

She jumped out and past a confused-looking stable boy, before a royal guard stepped at her side.

“You cannot leave the carriage without an escort, Madame.”

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