Page 42 of The Heartless Archer

“Hey!” It was rather a rude way to talk to him but he turned slightly to look at her.

“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just choose a new contestant? The people are angry that someone like me gets the opportunity.”

“Someone like you?” His eyes danced over her figure, trying to look for the peculiarity that drew her apart from others. He came up empty.

“I am a half-breed.” Her voice quivered slightly at the end but she held her chin high. Nikolai nodded and he watched her shoulders sag just a tiny bit.

Then he turned fully and took a few steps toward her, crowding her space.

“You could be a damn bear with two left feet and I would not care. I did not sit a whole evening at my desk, writing your name over and over to have enough notes in the vessel to make sure you would be picked.”

A breath escaped her lips, it drew his gaze toward them for a moment.

“You are lying.”

“Why would I?” he asked with glinting eyes. He was having fun with this.

She shook her head. “I don’t know but it is really pathetic.”

“You call me pathetic?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I believe I am. Are you going to flog me for it?”

There was a challenge in her eyes, coldness blazing like blue fire.

“This is a chance for you too, you cannot be that prideful to pass up 100,000 Gulls.”

She stepped closer to him and the guards shifted at the doors, Nikolai telling them with a small movement of his hand that it was all right.

“You know nothing about me, so do not pretend you know what I want and what I don’t.”

A small smile spread on his lips. “I do not need to know you, to know what humans want, generally. We are greedy creatures, striving for power.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “Well, isn’t that a pessimistic way of perceivingyour subjects?”

“I am not excluding myself from that rule,” he said quietly, taking a step closer until the tips of their boots touched.

His of the finest leather, polished so the tips glinted in the candlelight, hers were tearing from the sole, strings barely attached anymore, flecks of mud crusting around the edges.

They stared at each other for a moment, the air growing stuffed between them. He was waiting for her to ask why he would want her specifically to partake in the tournament but the question never came.

Instead, Noora grabbed his wrist in her hold and he froze.

Her other hand dove into the pocket of her tight pants, pulling out a silver ring. A jade stone was embedded into the heart of it.

Turning his hand she placed the ring into his gloved palm. He looked up at her face, fascinated by the sudden determination set onto her delicate features.

He cleared his throat, drawing his hand back, the familiar weight in his hand making it easier to breathe.

“All right,” he said. “Let us pretend for the sake of your pride that you are not greedy and won’t do this for the gold.”

She scoffed but let him go on.

“I will not only get your little friend here but I will make it possible for you to be her guardian, no matter of her or your age.”

Her face went slack and Nikolai could barely contain his triumphant smile. He had captured her on his hook.

A dark cloud cast over her gaze and she pondered over his words. He knew what she was doing and he gladly let her. Noora was only a means to the end that he needed. The moment she won that tournament, he was free of his torment. She looked up at him, jaw locked and shoulders drawn back. He did not care what he sacrificed for his needs, though a small pit of guilt formed in his stomach, knowing that the witch could do nothing else but agree to this arrangement.

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