Page 1 of Midwinter Night's Prince

1

THE GHOST

Life could suck hairy balls sometimes, but it was worth living so long as good street food existed.

Blair Lawson beamed gratefully at the elderly man who’d just fed her, handing him two thousand yen. She’d learned a fair few things about herself in the last six months. One of them was that she was considerably less grumpy when she had a full belly. She’d had to skip the occasional meal since the start of her journey. Blair grabbed her backpack and scampered when she felt the slightest hint of danger.

She hated it. Blair wasn’t a runner at heart. Her natural inclination was to stay and fight.

Damn that man.

The man in question was frequently damned, in the safety of Blair’s mind. Seth Stormhale had ruined her life, and one day she was going to enjoy making him pay for it.

She hated how often she thought of him in her rare moments of respite, but how could she help it? He was the reason behind everything she did these days. The reason why she saw foes behind every shadow, analyzing everything, everyone she encountered.

There was nothing dangerous about Gota Takana. The eighty-something Japanese elder pulled his cart of ramen around Kyoto at night, stopping when hailed by a client. Blair had already scanned his aura and peeked at the superficial layers of his mind.

Blair had always enjoyed people watching. Humans were interesting to her. Before Seth, she would have simply wondered about the old man’s story. Did he have a family? What did he feel about working so late in life? Was it a choice or something he had to do?

Now she knew. What you saw was what you got with Gota-san. He was a grandfather to three children he wished he saw more, and worked to pay off the debt left from the cost of their studies. The children wanted him to stop, accept money from them, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Besides, he liked sharing his cooking with the world.

She’d asked none of that. Blair didn’t speak to strangers. She couldn’t afford to make herself memorable. She was no one. Nothing. Just a ghost.

But she knew all the same. She’d stolen a glimpse into the old man’s mind.

Mind-reading was highly unethical. She’d taken enough classes in Oldcrest to know the entire world thought so. And yet, here she was…using warfare magic on old men.

She’d have to atone for that one day. If she survived the crappy situation Seth had thrust her into.

Blair couldn’t resist a moan as she brought the first spoonful of broth to her lips. Gota-san’s homemade ramen was the first thing she’d eaten since getting into town.

Delicious.

She was eating faster than she would have liked and entirely gracelessly. Blair would lick the bowl clean if she didn’t fear that her mother would appear in front of her and blast her into oblivion for the affront.

Velvet grumbled his agreement on her lap as he munched his slice ofchashu. Blair made sure she always had dry kibble for her cat, of course, but the tiny, spoiled feline much preferred fresh meat.

Gota-san stared at the two notes in his hand. “Sen-en!” he protested, handing her the second note.

When she shook her head, he lifted one finger, in case she didn’t understand that he meant to give her the change back.

Blair was adamant. She had to count the money she spent, but the old man undeniably more than deserved twenty bucks for the mouthwatering hot meal.

She couldn’t withdraw cash often, in case she was tracked digitally. To avoid taking risks, she got cash right before leaving a city. She’d just arrived in Kyoto that morning so she could afford a couple of days here before leaving the country, by her estimation.

Gota-san pocketed the money. Then, he cut another piece of pork for Velvet.

“Arigato,” Blair said, no doubt butchering her thank you.

Blair was like most Americans: languages weren’t her forte, because everyone around the world understood a degree of English. Still, she liked to learn a few words from the countries she travelled through. She’d picked up a bit of Japanese over the last month, some Tagalog in September. Before, she’d travelled through three South American countries; she'd made use of her rusty high school Spanish in Peru, but Portuguese had been challenging. In China, she'd learned to say hello, and that was about it. New Zealand had been the first English-speaking country she'd visited, and she hadn't stayed long. She guessed that those hunting her had a comprehensive list of her achievements. They'd studied her, assessing her strengths and weaknesses. That's what she would have done in their shoes. They must know she only spoke English fluently, so she'd avoided the easy, obvious destinations.

It was relatively amusing to think she'd visited so many places in such a short time.Seeing the world used to be one of her fantasies, something she’d envisioned happening in a distant future where she had all the time in the world, no classes or responsibilities. Maybe after retirement, she would have embarked on a privileged first-world soul-searching journey.

This wasn't the way of her relatives. Blair’s family had enough money for her to afford traveling. Each of her cousin had taken a gap year to see the five continents before college. But Blair didn’t rely on the White fortune, the White name, or the White anything. She was a Lawson. Lawsons worked for what they had. She wanted to earn her right to discover the world.

She would never have thought that she’d travel with five fake passports, credit cards under someone else’s name, and using a kind of magic she entirely despised on perfectly innocent strangers.

Yet here she was. Because life sucked.

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