It was insanity. There was nowhere to hide. But she did the best she could. The young woman edged around the coffin, shielding herself from the silver glow. She’d just wait here, and avoid the light. She could crawl—hide—she was so hungry and thirsty—

“I can see you.”

The ghost was hovering in the air. If she had any doubts about his realness—well—he was just standing in the air. She could even feel the chill of his body, see part of the coffin’s stone lid frosting over. The young woman gulped.

“Uh—hi.”

“Deceiver.”

His voice was wrathful. With one hand he drew the sword from the sheath on his back. She backed up.

“No, no, no—listen! I’m just a girl! I don’t know anything about despoiling—don’t kill me! I’m innocent!”

She burst into tears. The [Knight] hesitated. He eyed her as she began to sob, in great, huge hiccups. Like a child. He eyed her.

“You’re faking your tears.”

He looked half-convinced. The young woman sniffed.

“Please, sir! I don’t know how I got here! D-don’t kill me!”

The [Knight] hesitated. His voice softened as he stared at her face and uncomfortably looked away.

“Would that I could, Miss. But I have no choice. You are an intruder and I have sworn to defend the honored dead. And you have trespassed. Tell me how you entered; this place should have been sealed.”

“I—I was just walking down the street. And then I came here. Oh god. Please don’t—”

She shielded her face, as if that could have stopped the blade. Exasperated, the [Knight] lowered it.

“You lie. No one can enter these tombs easily. An Archmage would have difficulty cracking the seals!”

“I swear! Oh please—I don’t want to die!”

She covered her face. The man hesitated again. He waved at her with one hand.

“Stop—stop—crying. I will not be tricked again. What is your name?”

Maybe if she kept crying she’d manage to play on his conscience? But the [Knight]’s sword was poised to strike. He shouted at her, avoiding looking at her. But he didn’t have to see to swing.

“This is your last chance. I do not accept your lies! Or tears! No one enters Afiele’s tomb. Not for millennia has the slumber of the dead been breached! …Except for mice. If you have entered the tomb, you are either of Noelictus’ honored families, keepers of the dead, or an intruder! Tell me your name!”

The young woman’s eyes sharpened. She gazed up.

“Well—I am a princess. Actually—I’m a [Princess]! Not of Noelictus. I—I stumbled my way in here! I’m royalty! Don’t you dare kill me!”

The ghost half-lowered his sword. He eyed her.

“You’re lying.”