The House of Spades

The Mark Beneath the Storm

The storm rolled over the kingdom of Eldrath like a living beast.

Thunder growled above the black pine forests, and rain hammered against the stone walls of Castle Mourwyn. Torches flickered along the battlements as guards pulled their cloaks tighter, muttering prayers to old gods beneath their breath.

High above them all, perched on the edge of the western tower like a pale raven, sat Spade.

She was small compared to the armored soldiers below, but no one who knew her would ever call her weak.

Short white hair framed her sharp face, damp from the rain, while cold blue eyes watched the kingdom stretching beyond the castle walls. A dagger rested loosely in her hand, its silver edge catching flashes of lightning.

And just above the collar of her dark tunic, the spade-shaped birthmark on her neck seemed almost black against her pale skin.

People feared that mark.

In villages across Eldrath, mothers used stories of her to frighten misbehaving children.

The White Ghost.

The King's Hound.

The Cursed Blade.

Spade cared little for names.

Names never kept anyone alive.

A bell rang suddenly through the courtyard below.

Once.

Twice.

The gates were opening.

Spade rose silently to her feet.

The prince had returned.

She moved across the rooftops with impossible speed, boots barely making a sound against wet stone. By the time the royal procession entered the castle yard, she already crouched above the archway, hidden among gargoyles darkened by rain.

Prince Edric rode at the front of the column atop a massive black horse. Gold-trimmed armor gleamed beneath his crimson cloak, though mud stained the hem from weeks on the road.

He looked exhausted.

Good.

That usually made killing easier.

Spade reached behind her shoulder and slowly drew a narrow throwing blade.

Below, the guards laughed among themselves, unaware death sat above them.

Only the prince looked up.

Their eyes met.

Blue against gray.

For one strange moment, neither moved.

Then—

A scream split the courtyard.

A crossbow bolt shot from the shadows of the gatehouse straight toward Prince Edric's throat.

Spade reacted without thinking.

Her knife flew first.

It struck the assassin between the eyes before the bolt could hit its mark. The man collapsed instantly from the rafters above.

Chaos erupted below.

"Protect the prince!"

"Seal the gates!"

Steel sang from sheaths as soldiers scrambled through the rain.

Spade cursed softly under her breath.

That had not been part of the contract.

Prince Edric dismounted quickly, eyes scanning the rooftops until they landed on her again.

"You!" he shouted.

The guards followed his gaze.

Several immediately turned pale.

"She's here—"

"The Ghost—"

"Archers!"

Spade leapt from the rooftop just as arrows tore through the rain where she'd been standing moments before. She hit the lower balcony hard, rolled, and sprinted down a narrow corridor lit by torchfire.

Footsteps thundered behind her.

Too many.

She ducked into an abandoned chapel deep within the castle, breathing steadily despite the chase. Dust covered the ancient stone floor, and broken stained glass littered the altar like frozen jewels.

Spade moved toward the shadows—

—and froze.

Someone was already there.

A tall figure stood near the shattered window, dressed entirely in black robes.

Waiting.

"You interfered," the stranger said calmly.

The voice was old. Smooth. Dangerous.

Spade's hand moved to the dagger at her belt. "Someone else took the contract."

The hooded figure tilted their head slightly.

"No," they said. "Someone else wanted him alive."

Lightning flashed through the broken chapel windows.

For a brief instant, Spade saw silver markings stitched into the stranger's robes.

A spade.

Her stomach tightened.

Impossible.

The stranger stepped closer.

"You've spent your entire life believing you were cursed."

Another step.

"But you were never cursed, child."

The torches outside flickered violently as guards approached the chapel doors.

And the stranger whispered:

"You were chosen."