Chapter 38

Nikolai

Beads of sweat gathered at his temples, dampening his blonde hair and making it curl vigorously. His boots scraped against the dry forest land, his hands clasped desperately behind his back. He got rid of his formal peacoat hours ago, the tailored garment suffocating him. He shook his head when he saw his sister approach, her black hair braided intricately and he would bet his kingdom on who taught her to braid it that way.

“What is wrong? Why are they taking so long?” Tyra asked. Her brother could only shake his head at her question. He swiped his sleeve over the skin above his lip as the situation slowly spiraled into a disaster. A hush was going through the rows of the spectators wondering if their king failed to keep the contestants of the tournament safe. This was his failure. “They should have been here hours ago,” Tyra pressed and he whirled around to glare at her. “Do you have any helpful feedback coming my way or are you just here to gloat about my failure?” he demanded.

Her gaze hardened to golden topaz. “It is your responsibility to make sure this goes smoothly, you are king, Kai, not me.” She raised her chin defiantly as if she begged for a fight with him. Nikolai inhaled sharply and despite his thrumming heart, he stayed calm. “They are going to be fine.”

He nodded as if to reassure himself. Tyra opened her mouth as if to taunt him further when a voice proclaimed loudly. “THERE THEY ARE!”

A surprised gasp flowed through the crowds and both Tyra and Nikolai turned their heads toward the line of the forest. Someone was coming through the line of trees but Nikolai doubted it was Noora, the sheer size of it was that of a creature. “Guards, stand!” The king called as he drew his own sword and watched the dark shadow draw closer.

“Heavens,” Tyra murmured beside him as the creature broke through the trees. A head as large as the roof of the palace tower, turquoise scales littering the thick skin, one eye socket gaped emptily at them, its tongue lolling out between violet teeth. Suddenly the head thumped to the ground, blood squelching past its neck and where its body should have been, stood a person.

Nikolai did not recognise her at first, her hard body tainted in crimson liquid, her uniform was torn at her arm and a makeshift bandage was knotted around her right calf. She was limping forward, her left shoulder dislocated and he believed her right ribs were broken by the way she shifted her weight. Her once snow-coloured hair was now maroon, the strands sticking to each other and to her face, her pale skin sticky with dark iquor. Noora limped forward until she stood in front of him and his guards who all looked rather horrified. The head of the dead dragon lying on the dry ground, a few birds cawed in the air already smelling the decaying flesh.

When Noora spoke, his gaze flew back to her, something tugged at the insides of his body as he watched her, bathed in blood already drying and crusting under her nails and at the sides of her delicate neck. “I believe this is what you wanted?” She threw the sword before his feet, a ruby was embedded in the pommel, its blade black with blood. Even if not for the intricate design and sheer size of the blade, Nikolai knew what kind of blade was capable of cutting through dragon skin. His eyes flickered back up to see the witch sizing him up. Her eyes were flickering strangely as if she was not fully present.

“That is Nidghoggr’s head,” Tyra whispered in delightful glee. Noora’s gaze hardened further. “I would like medical attendance,” Noora gulped out, and suddenly her body tipped to the side. Nikolai jumped forward and caught her body in his arms before she could hit her head on the ground. He turned to look at his guards, his white shirt soaking through with the dragon’s dry blood and—he realised—Noora’s blood. The wound on her calf was still bleeding.

“Prepare the royal sleigh, we will take the winner of the trial to the healer’s wing. Now.”

His men moved into action as he gently laid her head in his lap. She looked hideous, broken down to her last bone. Her eyes fluttered as if she was not fully unconscious and the depth of Tartarus shined in her eyes as she looked up at him for a moment.

“You better make sure I win this tournament or I will rip you apart like that dragon.” Nikolai let out a surprised laugh. “I do not doubt that.”

She grimaced as his body shook with his laugh. “Make sure the child gets some medical attention.” She nodded her head toward the side and Nikolai turned, now noticing the second person standing by the dragon’s head. Soren was shaking like a leaf, his lip split open, dirt covering part of his face and his left arm stood at a weird angle, broken.

“Someone retrieve a stretcher for Soren!” he called and a guard disappeared. “I really thought you were dead,” Nikolai said and turned to look back at Noora but she was unconscious again. The king swallowed, his fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt just to feel her for a moment. There was flesh to dig into, tense muscle, her skin was warm despite the inhumane temperatures residing outside. He carefully slipped one glove off his fingers, glancing at his surroundings to see that everyone was too distracted by the spectacle Noora made out of the dragon’s head. His pointer and middle finger slipped towards the exposed skin on her wrist. He held his breath until he could focus on the slow pump of her pulse, it was weak but it existed. That was good enough for him.

They did not have to wait for long until the golden sleigh was brought by his guards and he carefully put Noora’s body on the cushioned velvet bench inside, helping Soren into the sleigh occupied by Pika. Just when his boot hit the sleigh to get inside as well a hand clamped down on his shoulder, viciously. He turned to see his mother glaring up at him. “And what do you think you are about to do? We have to announce the ratings and who the winner of the tournament is,” she hissed at him.

He would have let out a small laugh because, from any other person, these words were considered a joke but not from his mother. “I think you are perfectly capable of that, mother.” He turned to get inside but she would not let go of his shoulder. Her nails dug into the side along his back and he flinched, sinking his shoulder to lighten the pressure of her hand.

“You are taking a side. A king is to be diplomatic, you cannot run away from your responsibilities and throw everything away when a lowly orphan gets hurt. You have priorities.”

Nikolai stepped to the ground, towering over his mother’s form, her jade eyes were hard like the crystals themselves. She didn’t feel threatened by him and despite Nikolai’s outer appearance he knew she had the power, despite him carrying the title of the king.

“My priority is my kingdom, these contestants are currently residing in this kingdom, no matter their heritage or origin I will make sure that all of them get the medical attention they deserve. They have all fought violently and bravely today and it is time to at least be a decent ruler and make sure that they do not die of it.”

“They have applied themselves in this tournament knowing the risk, Nikolai. They get a prize in the end that consulates all the injuries and risks they took during the tasks, that is enough consolation. You are ignorant and na?ve, being led by your hormones and desires like a little schoolboy. It is time you finally grow up and face the truth.”

The scar above her cupid’s bow made her look feral as if this clean outer appearance was only a mask to cover the real atrocity hiding beneath.

Nikolai shrugged off her hand and nodded. “You are right it is time I face the truth.” She narrowed her eyes at him as if she knew it was not the end of the sentence.

“My eyes are wide open, Mother, and surprisingly the truth of some things is ghastly.”

“Nikolai,” she growled in anger but he ignored her, waved at the driver, and got into the sleigh, the body jostling as it drove forward. His gaze slipped out of the window to see the crowds cheering in delight as they drove away and back towards the palace. Noora was still unconscious, slowly bleeding out on his cushioned bench staining the velvet, like ink falling upon paper.

When they arrived at the palace doors the healers waited at the gates ready to do their magic and care for the contestants. The king watched them carry Noora and Soren—the latter was yowling in pain, now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off—into the palace. Pika was still able to walk on his own and he threw Nikolai a warning glance as if he still was not satisfied by their earlier conversation.

A young healer gasped as she looked upon him. “Your Majesty, you are bleeding, are you injured?”

He shook his head. “I am fine, it is not my blood staining these clothes, though would you be so kind as to tell a maid to draw me a bath?”

The girl’s cheeks grew red but she nodded quickly. “Of course, Your Majesty, I will do it right away.” She curtsied and before Nikolai could thank her, she disappeared into the palace. He followed her quietly, his steps echoing against the stone walls. His shirt was stained beyond hope, there was no way the palace washers would get it out of the fabric. Blood caked under his nails like he was the one defeating the monster and his muscles felt so tense he was looking forward to that warm bath.

The air in the bathing chamber was already foggy as he arrived and he quickly drew away his clothes and got into the boiling water when his washers entered the room. They did their work quietly as he held out his arms and they started to scrub his skin, not saying a word. The last one who did got send to work in the barns, shoveling shit. The water around him turned redder with every scrub, his pale skin turned an angry red until the blood was gone from under his nails. His now darker hair was combed back against his head and his body was clean again. When he got out of the bathtub, they dried his body and provided him with another golden peacoat and white shirt, though he donned the coat and decided to wear the slacks, pushing the shirt into them carelessly when the door to his chamber flew open and a small creature burst inside, red hair flailing everywhere.

“You evil monster!” Small fists started to pound his stomach and guards flooded his chamber. Nikolai made sure to gesture for them to leave as well as his washers, who took the dirty bath water with them, as he grasped the girl’s shoulders so she would stop hitting him. “What am I accused of, oh great warrior?” he asked.

Lulva glared up at him, her eyes spewing fire and making her look like a little vengeful sprite.

“Noora got hurt badly and they won’t let me see her,” the girl complained, her ocean eyes slowly filling with tears. He blinked surprised. Josephine was slowly trailing into the room, Spike at her side. The wolf was yowling in grief as if it knew that Noora was injured. “I tried to hold her back but she would not listen to me,” his sister said and shrugged.

Nikolai turned back to Lulva, his hands grasping her shoulders gently. Tears were running over her reddened cheeks, concern edged into a juvenile face. “I was just about to visit her. There is no need for tears, I promise you, Noora will be fine.” He produced a cloth handkerchief and swiped at her cheeks. “Noora fought like a wolf and she won the task. She would not want you to cry.”

Lulva blinked up at him and nodded, though the tears kept running. Nikolai started to panic, he was not very delicate when it came to tears, especially not when a girl was crying. A small giggle slipped out of the redhead, which he counted as a good sign. “You look terrified.” Lulva noticed, her hand drawing up and her finger traced the lines on his forehead. “I am not very talented at consoling people.” His younger sister snorted as she glanced out the window, her hand drawing softly through Spike’s fur.

The girl nodded. “You’re right.” Nikolai looked at her offended, which made her giggle again. The tears finally dried up and he stuffed the cloth into the pockets of his trousers. “Well, come on then, let’s visit the champion.” He started to get up when suddenly two small arms wound around his neck. “Thank you,” Lulva muffled into his collar as she squeezed him with all her might. His body locked up in surprise as he squatted awkwardly while the girl didn’t seem to have any plans to let him go. He raised his arms slowly and patted her back a few times as he met the gaze of his sister who was having the time of her life, suppressing a laugh. He rolled his eyes at her and gently pushed Lulva from him, clearing his throat. “Let’s go.”

Before anyone could have other emotional outbreaks, he strode out of the room, knowing both the girls would follow him.