There is a serial killer in Castle Krakenburg. And they're plotting to murder the Queen of Nohr.
Prince Leo is in charge of the investigation, but with no evidence and little time, he's struggling to keep his sister safe. He desperately needs help...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
3 Years After the Nohr-Hoshido War
Grace
Kill him.
My hand slid down the dagger, my forefinger brushing against the blade. Even the light touch drew blood. I adjusted my grip, ignoring the sting of my wound as I flexed my fingers and clenched the handle again. Nothing could distract me. He was in my sight.
He burst from the alley, and I followed him, out of the darkness and into the light. The sky was grey with leaking rain clouds, and the streets of Macarath were swelling with puddles. He ran straight down the middle of the road. I took the same route, sprinting past a soggy playing card that was floating face-up in the water. An ace of spades.
Lady Luck is on your side, Rory would say.
The houses around us were flooded, crumbling, empty. Almost everyone lived in the heart of the city now that the rations had finally been lifted and 'post-war' didn't permanently come before 'Nohr' in conversation. Macarath was suddenly where everyone wanted to be, for the gambling and the parties, and even the illegal underground games took place in the city centre. The streets at the fringes were silent, as if they belonged to another time in which the world was ruined. No witnesses.
It was perfect for a killing.
Janus veered right, off the road and down another alleyway. I turned sharply and followed him, cutting the corner. My boot landed in a puddle, splashing ice-cold water up my leggings. I hoped the sound of how close I was getting would frighten him. I was almost close enough.
I was holding a throwing knife in my other hand, but I'd already given up on trying to catch him out with those. Although he was twice my age, it seemed Janus could dodge as quickly as he could run.
As we plunged into the dim light of the alley, faint footsteps started pounding behind us. Clicking footsteps. A large group of people in heeled riding boots -- Macarath's Nohrian Guard, perhaps?
I spurred on, extending my stride. This man was mine and mine alone. I didn't care who caught me with him, but I did care about when they caught me. I had to kill him first.
Janus burst out of the alley and turned sharply. Just as I reached the exit, the clicking footsteps reached me.
"Halt!" a man shouted.
I glanced over my shoulder. It was the Nohrian Guard, but they were not wearing their usual uniforms. Their breastplates bore the insignia of the royal family. Good gods, the Royal Guard?
Never mind that. Some of them were wielding tomes.
I dived to the side just in time to avoid a blast of fire. My knees scraped over the cobbles, dampening with rainwater and blood.
Damn it, I'm losing him!
I pushed myself upright and skidded out the alley, emerging on a street littered with old crates and bits of stonework that had fallen from the buildings. It was the infamous Dump of Macarath.
