House of Blood

The decree did not arrive by courier. It was proclaimed across every border outpost, garrison, and trading hub in the Northern Marches by high-tier Imperial heralds riding white gryphons.

”By order of Her Imperial Highness, Princess Solene Sol:

Whereas rumors persist that the spirit of the fallen seventh child of the Prim Sanguis line haunts the northern snows, disturbing the peace of the realm with rogue decrees... Her Highness shall personally travel to the Northern Marches to investigate these unnatural occurrences and lay the ghost of Valerian Sanguis to rest.”

Deep within the subterranean hall of the Frost-Tooth clan, the cavern was filled with the heavy scent of roasting caribou and spilled ale.

Kaelen sat across from me on a carved wooden bench, reading a copy of the official imperial proclamation brought in by a wilderness scout. She burst into a loud, booming laugh, slamming her wooden tankard onto the stone table.

”Lay you to rest!” Kaelen cackled, wiping foam from her lower tusks. ”Look at this, dragon-boy! The little princess is coming to the frozen wastes with a full holy retinue to exorcise your ghost!”

I sat quietly, polishing the length of my heavy ironwood bo staff with an oiled rag.

My dark leather blindfold, lined with glowing blue northern runes, remained tied firmly across my eyes. Beneath it, my acoustic perception mapped out the entire hall—the crackle of the hearth, the heavy footsteps of barbarian guards, and the subtle, amused flutter of Wren’s spirit form in my shadow.

’Oh, this is rich,’ Wren purred, floating around my ears like a ribbon of smoke. ’She isn’t coming with an exorcist, partner. She’s coming with a leash.’

”She knows,” I said softly, setting the rag aside.

Kaelen stopped laughing, her yellow eyes narrowing as she looked at my unreadable, blindfolded face. ”What do you mean she knows?”

”Look at the phrasing, Kaelen,” I replied, leaning my chin on my hand. ”If the Imperial Court genuinely thought a rogue spirit or a dark necromancer was using her name, they would have dispatched the Imperial Inquisition to purge the region with holy fire. They wouldn’t send a ten-year-old princess to ’lay a ghost to rest’.”

I leaned back, a cold, bitter smirk touching my lips.

”She recognized the signature. She analyzed the wax. Solene knows I forged her seal, she knows I used it to scam Garren’s mercenaries, and now she’s using her public arrival to back me into a corner.”

Kaelen gritted her teeth, leaning over the table. ”Then we move deeper into the mountain passes. My father can hide you in the sunken ice caves where even imperial scrying mages can’t reach.”

”No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. ”If I run, I lose the board. Right now, the entire world—my father, my siblings, the Sec branch rebels, and the Clan Council—believes Valerian Sanguis is dead. That anonymity is the greatest weapon I have.”

”Then what are you going to do when the Golden Sun comes knocking on our valley?” Kaelen challenged, crossing her bronze arms.

”I play the ghost,” I murmured, my past-life gamer instincts humming with dark excitement. ”She wants a cat-and-mouse game? Fine. But she forgets... in these frozen mountains, the mouse knows every crevasse, every draft, and every shadow.”

Two Weeks Later: The Border Outpost of Oakhaven

The Imperial procession was an arrogant display of sovereign wealth against the bleak white wilderness.

Fifty high-tier Imperial Sun Guards, clad in polished platinum armor, marched in formation around an enclosed velvet-and-gold carriage. Flying low above them were three war-gryphons, their sharp eyes scanning the snowdrifts for threats.

Princess Solene sat inside the heated carriage, wearing a heavy white fox-fur cloak over her imperial silk gown.

Beside her sat High Investigator Vane, holding a scrying map of the local terrain.

”Your Highness,” Vane spoke respectfully. ”We are approaching the perimeter of the Frost-Tooth territory. Chief Borka has granted us passage, but his warriors are watching us from the ridges. If the ghost of the Sanguis child is an abyssal construct, this is where it will strike.”

Solene looked out the frosted glass window, her pale-gold eyes shining with quiet, analytical boredom.

”An abyssal construct doesn’t use candle tallow to forge royal decrees, Vane,” Solene said mildly, taking a bite from a candied plum. ”He is close. I can feel it.”

”He, Your Highness?” Vane frowned slightly. ”You speak as though you believe the Seventh Child survived a hundred-foot avalanche.”

”I believe,” Solene smiled faintly, ”that Valerian Sanguis is far too stubborn—and far too slippery—to die in a pile of cold snow.”

SNAP.

A sudden, sharp sound echoed through the blizzard.

The lead war-gryphon screeched, halting mid-air as a subtle ripple of dragon heat passed through the lower mountain pass.

”Halt!” Captain Ronald shouted from the front of the column, drawing his glowing broadsword. ”Defensive formation around Her Highness!”

The Imperial Guards instantly locked their platinum shields into an impenetrable wall of light-mana. Vane drew a pair of rune-carved scrying daggers, stepping in front of Solene’s carriage door.

Through the blinding curtain of white snow, a single figure walked out onto the stone ridge overlooking the Imperial convoy.

He was small, wrapped in a rugged, fur-lined cloak that whipped wildly in the arctic gale. His face was obscured by a thick, dark leather blindfold etched with glowing blue northern runes. In his right hand, he held a heavy ironwood bo staff rested casually against his shoulder.

Beside him stood Kaelen, her twin bone bludgeons resting on her hips, her feral golden eyes glaring down at the platinum guards with blatant contempt.

”Is that... the entity?” Vane demanded, raising his scrying glass.

Solene pushed past Vane, stepping out onto the snowy runner of her carriage, her fox-fur cloak fluttering in the wind. She stared up at the ridge, her sharp golden eyes locking onto the blindfolded child standing twenty yards above her.

”You took your time, Princess,” a quiet, pleasant voice echoed down from the ridge, carrying through the howling wind with unnatural clarity.

Solene’s lips curled into a brilliant, dangerous smile.

”It is proper etiquette to keep a ghost waiting, Valerian,” Solene called back, her voice laced with royal arrogance and hidden delight. ”I hear you’ve been using my name to conduct business in the North. My Grand Chamberlain was quite distressed by the bill.”

”A ghost has no money, Your Highness,” I replied smoothly from the ridge, tilting my head slightly behind my rune-carved blindfold. ”I merely borrowed your authority to clean up a mutual nuisance.”

Vane gasped, his head snapping toward Solene in absolute shock. ”Your Highness... you knew?! He is truly—”

”Silence, Vane,” Solene commanded, not taking her eyes off me. She took two steps forward into the deep snow, looking up at the ridge with a challenging tilt of her chin. ”You broke the law, Seventh Child. You forged a royal decree, manipulated a mercenary vanguard, and disturbed the peace of the Empire while playing dead.”

”Then execute me,” I chuckled softly, my voice dripping with cold, playful confidence. ”Oh, wait... you can’t kill a boy who doesn’t exist.”

Solene let out a light, musical laugh, her pale-gold eyes flashing with intense determination.

”I won’t execute you, Valerian,” Solene declared, taking a small, glowing ivory token from her sash—the master tracking key to her Imperial Sun Seal. ”I am going to hunt you through these mountains. And when I catch you... you are going to owe the Golden Sun a debt that lasts a lifetime.”

I rested my ironwood staff across my shoulders, taking half a step backward into the swirling blizzard, my acoustic perception tracking her every heartbeat.

”Then come find me, Princess,” I whispered.

Before the Imperial Sun Guards could leap forward, Kaelen slammed her bone bludgeons onto the snow.

BOOM!

A localized snow-blast detonated across the ridge, blinding the convoy in a wall of white powder. When the snow settled three seconds later, the ridge was completely empty.

Solene stood in the snow, the arctic wind biting at her cheeks, a thrill running through her chest like she hadn’t felt in years. She turned back to High Investigator Vane, whose face was completely pale.

”Cancel our return to the Capital, Vane,” Solene ordered, her voice echoing with absolute royal command. ”We are setting up camp in the Frost-Tooth valley. The hunt for the ghost begins today.”