†Noca's POV†
I had been unable to sleep even though it was evening. Thoughts of him, amidst my discomfort, were all that filled my mind.
The way he had failed to notice the bolt I loosened from the bow I had given him. The way he had failed to shoot the arrow under the gaze of both me and the warriors gathered around.
Even if he had been pretending or a spy trying to hide himself, I had made sure he was under pressure, forced to impress and salvage his reputation. Yet no matter how I tried to draw him out, no matter how much I tightened the noose of expectation, no matter how I increased the stakes if he had disgraced himself by not shooting, there was no gain in the end.
I rose from my bed, the silken sheets slipping from my legs as I stared at the dishes sprawled in front of me. The vast table was filled with delicacies, golden breads, steaming meats, glistening fruits, wine and drinks. Food I wasn't even hungry for.
