Shattered Reflection

Chapter Seventeen

Natalia's POV

It is the day I have dreaded for sometime now, they day I never wanted to come. Today is the day that suitors I never wanted will compete for my hand. I feel pure disgust at the arrangement. My mother is truly wicked and I wish nothing but pure suffering towards her. 

The handmaidens have been dashing around all morning and I am getting more irritated by the moment. They pull my corset taunt, stuff me in the dress, and get to working on my face and hair. After the look is finished, my crown is placed upon my head. Or should I say, Reuka's crown.

I stand and my shoes are put on me. I finally leave and walk out of that room. As I make my way down the hallway, I keep my eyes forward. Never do I let my eyes wander. I clench my jaw as I pass Loki's room. He will be attending today and its breaks my heart. If only he knew! If only I could tell him! I make my way to the main hall and my mother awaits. She stands there with my father, who I haven't seen in some time. He looks tired and beyond stressed. I wonder if my mother is to blame?

"Head up, Reuka. Its time to leave." My demon mother says sweetly.

I say nothing and walk out the doors that the servants hold open for me. I step into one of the carriages and wait. My mother or father will probably be joining me soon.  I look out of the window and wait. The door the carriage opens and I turn and freeze. My eyes are locked with bright green ones.

"L-Loki..." I stammer. He looks away from me and settles into the carriage. I can't seem to peel my eyes from him. 

We say nothing to each other as we ride to the stadium. The tension is thick and I can feel our pain. Neither him nor I wish to be here or in this situation. We eventually pull up to the stadium and the door is opened. Loki steppes out first and greets the crowd. He then gestures to the door and I step out. The audience roars and I plaster a fake smile onto my face. My issues are of no fault to these people. They do not need to know the struggling within the highest position of their kingdom. It would only cause panic.

We join my mother and father in the royal box, overlooking the stadium grounds. We take our seats and wait for the competition to start. The course is a difficult one. The archers-on horseback- will ride and shoot their arrows in the targets in a certain order. If you fall off the horse, miss a target, or shoot the wrong target, you will be disqualified. 

The first rider comes out and the crowd cheers. He's an average fellow. Blond hair, bright eyes. Young. Confident. He bows to the box and my mother nods to continue. He mounts his horse and the games begin. He rides around and fires at target after target. He is good, I'd expect him to be. These are the finalist from events that took place across the country. He finishes, dismounts, and retreats back into the stadium. The crowd cheers and waits for his score. Officials tally what he made and the leader board is started.

Competitor 1: 164 points

I clap. It is not a terrible score. A perfect one is 200. This course is a bit harder than what he is used to, I imagine. The next one then starts. He makes a 171. This goes on and on. One suitor after another. It gets quite boring. Then a man in a blood red cape come into view. I feel a dark chill run up my spine and I inwardly flinch. I do not trust this man. He bows deeply to us and my mom smiles and nods to him. I do not trust that smile.

He rides and he hits bull's-eye after bull's-eye. I stand from my chair in shock as he perfectly hits the last target. Who is this man? He has scored a perfect 200! Has this ever happened before?! My mother claps respectfully and smirks. What is going on here? Has she set something up with this man? I sit and run the possibilities in my head. 

Another rider comes out. Poor man. To win the lead, he must split or knock down the last arrow from the previous contender. He rides and fails to do so of course. He is put out of the running. A few more go by and another man takes to the saddle. His hair is brown and his eyes are green. He rides and does as the red-cloaked man did. He scores perfectly. He comes to the last shot and aims. The arrow flies and I know he will miss the previous arrow. My finger twitches and his arrow aims true. Its splits the cloaked man's arrow in half. If you play dirty, mother, so shall I.

My mother's head twists in my direction and she gives me a pointed stare. I glare right back. Her eyes widen. I smirk and she glowers at me. The green eyed man is declared the winner. I stand and he bows to me, I curtsy. 

An arrow soon flies out from the stadium doors and strikes the green-eyed man through the heart. The red cloaked man come out and throws the bow onto the dusty ground. He turns towards the box.

"I thought we had a deal, your majesty!"