Chapter 22

Noora

This was a perceptually bad idea. She should have taken Lulva and left the palace already, it was the right thing to do. Now that the prince had ordered her out of the orphanage, it was up to his choice what Lulva would do with her life. Noora and she could have left the kingdom and started a new life. They still would. After this horrific dinner was over.

Something stabbed at her heart when thinking of making Lulva flee. The way her face lit up with joy when meeting a girl her own age and receiving attention from Nikolai’s sister like she never had before. And Noora knew she deserved it. Lulva was one of the kindest humans she knew, she had big heart and it made Noora worry all the time. Someone could take advantage of it, leaving the young girl encasing it behind.

The only reason she agreed to sit at the elongated table in the dining hall of the ice palace was Lulva and the way she lit up from the inside when Josephine asked for them to stay longer.

Silver clinked beside her and Noora flinched, her gaze flying to the head of the table where currently Nikolai resigned, his gaze placed intently on her.

His mother was occupying the place at the other end of the table, her black hair woven into an updo today, a few curled strands escaping the tight masterpiece on her head and brushing her clothed shoulders.

She had on a tight black gown that roved up until it met her jaw, just like the last one she had on when announcing the participants in town.

She was currently enraptured in a conversation with Kekoa, who was seated beside her, talking her ear off for the past half an hour. The seat beside him and across from her was occupied by Soren, who was stuffing his face with meatballs and boiled potatoes, eliciting a disgusted sound from Tyra, who took the place left by her mother. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else than this dinner table and Noora could not agree more.

Her plate lay in front of her and she was wondering which of the four forks displayed on the left side of her plate were appropriate to use.

Why were there even four forks? Could she not use one for all of the meals held at one dinner? It seemed more than unnecessary and rather ridiculous to use that many dishes that had to be washed later.

But why would the royals care? They were not the ones doing the washing.

“The inner one.”

Snapping out of her thoughts, turning to her right, she noticed Pika staring at her. “Use the fork on the far right.”

She blinked confused, before taking the fork in her hand. It was heavier than she expected.

“Thanks.” It slipped past her lips without her wanting to. Pika threw her a small smile in return.

When she took a bite of the meat she had to suppress a groan at the taste. The meat was so tender it melted on her tongue like sugar did in tea, the flavours of garlic and olive oil coating her tongue heavenly.

She knew the food in the palace was good. Even the small platter Tyra brought her the other night tasted like how she imagined freedom felt.

Without any hesitation, Noora focused on clearing her plate in a matter of seconds. She tried to keep herself from licking the sauce from the plate. She had never eaten this good in her life and apparently, her hunger wasn’t as unnoticed around her as she expected. Without anyone noticing, Nikolai nicked her plate and switched it with his, which was still full to the brim, the meat and potatoes steaming.

Noora looked up at him, narrowing her gaze. “I’m full, thank you.”

He raised his brows. “I doubt that. When was the last time you even ate a full steaming platter of food?”

“A few seconds ago,” she told him with a sarcastic smile but if she was being honest she could not remember the last time she had a proper meal.

“Instead of being sarcastic, which is the lowest form of communication I might add, you should eat. You will need the strength in the tournament.” Nikolai leaned closer to her while talking, avoiding the attention of the other participants of the dinner.

“I am not taking part,” she said through her teeth. Nikolai raised a brow at that, making his features slip into that arrogant mask she despised.

“Eat,” he concluded.

Gripping her fork in her hand, Noora did the only plausible thing she could at that moment.

She kicked her foot out under the table and came into contact with his shin, making the man wince.

His jade eyes flew back to her, looking clearly offended as if he had never come upon someone like her. His brows narrowed over his eyes as his cheeks flushed in anger. “Did you just kick me?”

“Don’t tell me what to do and I won’t kick you.”

Nikolai spluttered at that. He looked so offended, that Noora felt tempted to laugh. What a prudish, snobby man the prince was, it was ridiculous.

“I am your king, it is my sole purpose to tell you what to do.”

“You are unbelievable,” she scoffed. “Do you think, just because you have a stupid crown on your head, I will just listen to what you say? If I say I am full then that’s not up for debate.”

“Are you mad that I offered you a plate of food? I only had your best interest in mind, Noora.“ She shivered subconsciously when he spoke her name, something about it made her skin crawl.

“Even if you do not participate in the tournament, I wanted to make sure that for once, you could complain about a full stomach instead of an empty one.” His gaze flared like green fire and even though she rationally understood what he was saying, she could not back down.

Noora was hurt in her pride and that was never a good thing.

Slamming down her fork onto the table, she got up, ready to yell at him again when she realised that the table had gone quiet.

Everyone was looking at her and to Noora’s horror she felt her cheeks heat under their curious gazes.

“Is there a problem?” Queen Euphemia asked, her gaze narrowing at Noora. Tyra seemed to be withholding a chuckle, the sides of her lips quivering dangerously.

“No, Your Majesty.” Noora slowly sat back down, her teeth grinding against each other.

“Well, now that it is quiet, I might as well brief the contestants on tomorrow’s task.” Queen Euphemia cleared her throat and got up from her chair, towering over the rest of them.

A sharp pain shot through her leg and she whirled around to see Nikolai smothering a smirk on his lips, his gloved hand hiding most of his mouth.

He was not looking at her but instead focusing on his mother.

Did he just kick her back?

Shaking her head, Noora turned back towards the queen.

“You will have approximately one hour for tomorrow’s task. There will be a token provided that only one of you will be able to receive,” she said, turning to look at every one. Pika straightened beside Noora as the queen’s gaze lingered on the two of them.

“There will be, of course, obstacles that may hinder you from obtaining that prized object, or else it would be too easy. You all will be tested in strength, instincts, and tactics but,” she held up her hand, her voice turned more urgent, “the most important part is that while obtaining the token will help you in the next task, it is not required for you to be able to win.”

Noora perked up at that as the other contestants shared confused glances.

“There will be a jury of four, judging you on your skill, efficiency, and style. You might obtain your token but if your procedure is less than conservative, your points will be very low.”

“And who will judge us?” Kekoa asked.

The queen turned to look at him and something in her gaze started to concern Noora. There was just something in the air around the woman that felt…wrong.

“The king, of course, me, an old friend of the royal family, and…a special guest.”

Pika furrowed his brows beside Noora. “Special guest?”

Instead of listening to the queen, she turned to look at Nikolai, who was suspiciously quiet during the talk of his mother.

His eyes met hers in an instant, a certain gleam inside the depth of his gaze. As if he already knew he won.

And even if Noora wanted to stay stubborn, she somewhere felt defeat already crawling over her skin and burying in her heart.

“Somehow I got sidetracked in my plans today.”

Noora froze in front of the door leading into the chamber she was currently residing in. She turned to look at Nikolai, who insisted on escorting her back to her rooms.

His gaze was somewhere beside her head, maybe he was staring at her ear?

“I realise that my behavior might not always be to your liking.” She scoffed at that and watched his jaw clench for a moment, still not meeting her gaze.

“But I am trying to accommodate everything to your wishes.”

“Why?” she asked and took him off guard, his gaze flickering over her face.

“Because I think that you have the potential to win this tournament. You certainly deserve it.”

She crossed her arms in front of her. He was not telling the truth but that was nothing new to her. Nikolai had been lying to her from the moment they met and maybe if she was more curious she would prod further and investigate that matter. But that was not what she came here for.

Inhaling deeply, he started to talk again. “What I wanted to do was apologise for my behavior this afternoon.” Noora raised a brow at him and he quickly added, “For my behavior in general. I am truly sorry and I hope sincerely that you decide to stay and take part in the tournament if not for you, for Lulva.”

She let her eyes wander over his face, doubting his sincerity though she could see that it was one of the rare times he seemed to apologise.

“And?” she asked, resulting in him narrowing his gaze. “Was it that hard? To apologise,” she clarified.

Nikolai took a step forward lowering his head slightly, orbiting in Noora’s space.

“This was the first time I ever apologised.”

“I feel honoured,” she quipped.

“You should.” His voice dropped and his gaze turned darker for a moment before he straightened again.

It was like Noora could watch him draw back into the well-mannered man that he had to be.

“I bid you goodnight.” He turned and quickly strode off as if he was hindering himself from saying anything more.

It was probably better that way, taking into account that Noora gave no fucks if he was apologizing to her or not.

With a sigh, she stepped into the dimly lit chamber, closing the heavy door behind her, before her eyes found the small girl cuddled into the plush comforter.

Noora’s steps stuttered on her way to Lulva as she saw the white fur peeking out from beside her.

Her breath was stuck in her throat. The medium-sized fur ball, rolled in on itself, was the wolf, sleeping soundly beside Lulva. Watching over her in her sleep.