Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Dawn came too early and not early enough. I'd spent the remaining hours of the feast smiling and accepting congratulations while my mind churned through everything Kael had revealed. The map hidden in my bodice seemed to burn against my skin, its damning evidence of the Thornfields' crimes a constant reminder that my world had shifted irrevocably in the space of a single conversation.
Now, as gray light filtered through my chamber windows, I prepared for what might be the most important investigation of my life. If Kael had spoken truthfully, I would have found proof of his claims hidden at my mother's tomb. If he had lied—well, then I'd have learned something equally valuable about the kind of enemy I was dealing with.
I dressed in practical clothes: dark leather breeches, a fitted tunic, and boots designed for silent movement rather than courtly appearance. My weapons were carefully concealed but easily accessible— throwing knives in my sleeves, a dagger at my hip, and poison pins in my hair ornaments. If this were a trap, I'd make sure any would-be assassins paid dearly for their ambitions.
The castle's corridors were mostly empty at this hour, populated only by servants beginning their daily routines and guards changing shifts. I moved through the shadows with practiced ease, taking routes I'd memorized during childhood games that had prepared me for more serious purposes.
The royal cemetery lay beyond the castle's main walls, accessible through a gate that few possessed keys to open. I'd carried my key since my sixteenth birthday, when father had finally acknowledged that my communion with the dead required legitimate access to their resting places.
Mother's tomb stood apart from the others, built from white marble that gleamed like bone in the morning light. Father had spared no expense in creating a monument worthy of a beloved queen, complete with carved angels and inscribed poetry about eternal love and remembered sacrifice.
Beautiful lies, all of it. But then, the most dangerous deceptions were always wrapped in attractive packaging.
I approached the eastern corner with careful steps, counting stones until I reached the third from the edge. At first glance, it appeared identical to all the others—perfectly fitted white marble without obvious flaws or distinguishing marks.
But when I pressed against its surface, it shifted slightly under the pressure.
My heart hammered as I worked my fingers around the stone's edges, finding the hidden mechanism that allowed it to slide aside on concealed hinges. Behind it lay a small cavity, just large enough to hold the oil-wrapped package that waited within.
I extracted the bundle with trembling hands, unwrapping layer after layer of protective cloth until I revealed its contents: another collection of letters, these bearing the official seal of the Thornfield house, and a small object that made my blood turn to ice.
A piece of my mother's jewelry. The silver pendant she'd worn every day of my childhood, inscribed with protective runes that were supposed to guard against magical harm.
The pendant I'd searched for frantically after her death, convinced that whoever had taken it as a trophy was her killer.
I sank to my knees beside the tomb, clutching the pendant while my vision blurred with tears I'd thought
I'd cried dry years ago. Kael hadn't just known about the Thornfields' conspiracy—he'd possessed physical evidence taken from the scene of my mother's murder.
The first letter was dated just weeks after her death:
"The binding proceeds as planned. The queen's life force has been successfully channeled into the preparatory matrices, and her essence now strengthens the foundation upon which we will build. The pendant proved an excellent focus for the ritual—her emotional attachment to the protective charm made it ideal for storing the harvested energy. Phase one is complete."
I read the words three times before their full meaning penetrated my shock. Mother's murder hadn't just been a ritual sacrifice—it had been spiritual imprisonment. Her very soul had been trapped, used as fuel for whatever monstrous work the Thornfields intended to complete with my marriage.
The second letter detailed the technical aspects of the binding in language that made my stomach churn:
"The princess shows remarkable aptitude for necromantic communion, exceeding all projections. Her natural abilities will provide the perfect conduit for accessing the stored essences when the final ritual is performed.
Preliminary calculations suggest we will be able to channel not just the Blackthorne gift, but all accumulated bloodline powers simultaneously through her connection to the death realm."
They weren't just planning to steal my abilities. They intended to use me as a living gateway to access every power they'd accumulated through decades of ritualized murder.
The third letter was the most damning:
"Prince Aldric continues to resist the conditioning, but his cooperation is not required for the binding to succeed. The marriage ceremony itself will create the necessary spiritual connection, and consummation will complete the power transfer regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. If he proves troublesome, elimination can be arranged after the ritual is complete. The bloodline connection only needs to exist long enough to establish the conduit."
My hands shook as I processed this revelation. Prince Aldric—my intended husband, the man I'd assumed was complicit in his father's schemes—was as much a victim as I was. The conditioning mentioned in the letter suggested they'd been trying to manipulate him into cooperation, but he'd resisted their influence.
Which meant the prince might be an ally rather than an enemy. Or it could be an elaborate deception designed to make me trust him when he arrived.
I carefully rewrapped the letters and pendant, tucking them into my tunic alongside the other evidence
I'd gathered. Every piece of information painted a more complex and dangerous picture than I'd originally understood. This wasn't just about political marriage or even personal revenge—it was about a magical conspiracy that threatened the fundamental balance between life and death.
The sound of approaching footsteps made me freeze, my hand instinctively moving toward my concealed weapons. Someone else was in the cemetery at dawn, moving with purposeful direction toward Mother's tomb.
I pressed myself against the monument's far side, using its bulk to conceal my presence while I tried to identify the newcomer. Heavy boots, measured pace, the subtle clink of mail beneath civilian clothing—a guard or soldier trying to appear inconspicuous.
"Princess?" The voice belonged to Captain Aldwin. "I know you're there. Your morning visits aren't as secret as you believe."
I stepped into view, keeping my expression neutral despite the shock of discovery. "Captain. You're up early."
"As are you." His weathered face showed concern rather than suspicion. "Though I suppose grief keeps its own schedule."
"Something like that." I moved away from the hidden compartment, hoping he hadn't noticed my investigation of the stonework. "Did you need something?"
"Your father sent me to find you. There's been a development regarding your betrothal." His tone suggested the news wasn't welcome. "Prince Aldric has requested permission to arrive earlier than planned. He'll be here within three days."
Three days. My carefully laid plans for gathering intelligence and building alliances suddenly compressed into an impossibly short timeline. I'd expected to have more than a week to prepare for the prince's arrival, to verify Kael's information and establish secure communication channels.
"Did he give a reason for the change?"
"Concern for your safety, according to his message. There has been an increase in bandit activities along the northern roads, and he fears waiting might expose his traveling party to unnecessary risk."
Or he'd been ordered to accelerate the timeline because someone suspected I was gathering evidence against his family. The timing seemed remarkably convenient, coming just hours after my conversation with Kael.
"I see. And father approved this request?"
"Enthusiastically. He sees it as evidence of the prince's devotion to your welfare." Captain Aldwin's expression suggested he had reservations about that interpretation. "Though between us, I'd prefer more time to verify the security arrangements."
"Your caution is noted and appreciated." I began walking toward the cemetery gate, forcing him to follow.
"Is there anything else I should know about these revised plans?"
"The prince is traveling with a smaller escort than originally planned. Fifty men rather than the two hundred we expected." His military mind found this concerning. "Either he's supremely confident in his abilities, or supremely foolish about the dangers of travel."
Or he was bringing exactly the number of men needed for a specific purpose that had nothing to do with transportation security. Fifty soldiers could overwhelm the castle's defenses if they struck without warning, but they weren't enough for a proper siege. The perfect number for a quick, decisive action.
"I'm sure Prince Aldric knows what he's doing," I said with false confidence. "After all, he is a Thornfield.
They're renowned for their strategic thinking."
Captain Aldwin's grunt of acknowledgment carried a wealth of unspoken opinion about Thornfield's strategic thinking. His loyalty to the crown was absolute, but his experience had taught him to be suspicious of convenient coincidences and accelerated timelines.
As we passed through the cemetery gate, I caught sight of a figure watching us from the tree line beyond the outer walls. Too distant to make out features, but the stillness of the observer suggested professional surveillance rather than casual curiosity.
Kael, keeping track of my movements? One of Father's spies, ensuring I wasn't planning anything treasonous? Or someone else entirely, representing interests I hadn't yet identified?
"Captain," I said quietly, "have you noticed any unusual activity around the castle recently? New faces, changes in routine, anything that might suggest increased security concerns?"
His eyes sharpened, following my gaze toward the distant figure. "There have been reports of strangers in the village asking questions about the royal family. Nothing overtly threatening, but enough to warrant additional patrols."
"What kind of questions?"
"Details about the castle's defenses, the royal family's daily routines, the timing of your betrothal celebrations." He paused, clearly debating how much to reveal. "Someone is gathering intelligence,
Princess. The question is whether they're working for friends or enemies."
Both, most likely. The game I'd entered was more complex than simple allies and opponents. Multiple factions were maneuvering for position, each with their agenda, each trying to manipulate events to their advantage.
And I was standing at the center of it all, the prize everyone wanted to claim or destroy.
"Increase security around my quarters," I decided. "Discrete, but thorough. I want to know about every person who comes within fifty feet of my chambers."
"Already done, Highness. Though I should warn you, if someone truly skilled wants to reach you, guards alone won't be enough to stop them."
"Then it's fortunate I'm not relying solely on guards for protection."
We'd reached the castle's main entrance, where the bustle of daily life was beginning in earnest. Servants carrying breakfast trays, guards changing posts, courtiers preparing for whatever political maneuvering the day would bring.
Normal life, proceeding as if the world hadn't fundamentally changed overnight.
"Princess," Captain Aldwin said as we parted ways, his voice low and urgent. "Whatever you're planning, whatever you've discovered—be careful who you trust. These aren't the kinds of games where mercy is shown to the losers."
I met his eyes, seeing the paternal concern he tried to hide behind professional duty. "I understand the stakes, Captain. Better than you might think."
"I hope so," he replied grimly. "Because I have the distinct feeling we're all about to discover just how high those stakes truly are."
As I climbed the stairs toward my chambers, my mind raced through the implications of everything I'd learned. Three days until Prince Aldric arrived. An unknown amount of time before Kael contacted me again. Evidence of a conspiracy that reached deeper than I'd imagined, with my mother's soul trapped as fuel for their ritual magic.
The game had accelerated beyond my ability to control its pace, but that didn't mean I was powerless. I had information they didn't know I possessed. I had allies they didn't know existed. And I had the burning desire for revenge that had sustained me through ten years of patient preparation.
Let them come with their accelerated timelines and their binding rituals and their carefully laid plans.
I was the , and the dead were on my side.
The war was about to begin.