Cara’s voice was indignant. She pointed at the [Knight], striding up to him, and he actually leaned back.

“How dare you say as much! Have you not heard about the battle between Norway and Denmark against the treacherous Prince Fortinbras?”

“Erm. No. But—”

“Denmark may be new to you, sir. But I am nonetheless a [Princess]!”

Cara drew herself up and regally looked at the [Knight]. He hesitated again, still unconvinced.

“I am a ghost, Princess Cara of Denmark. And if you truly are a [Princess] of Denmark, and thus, Terandria, I apologize for my actions. But I still doubt…tell me, how was your grandfather murdered?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, hoping to catch her in a lie. Cara paced back and forth, injecting grief into her tone.

“The tale, sir, is a terrible one. My father, Hamlet II, claims his father’s ghost assails him night after night.

The ghost—if it is my father’s father—claims he was murdered by his brother, Claudius, for nothing more than lust of power. A terrible thought! And more terrible, for my grandmother, Gertrude, who is yet a beauty, married my uncle, Claudius, cementing his ties to the throne!”

“No. When was this? After the Era of Sinegean? He was the King of Avel.”

It shouldn’t have worked. Not on someone who’d just seen her pretend to faint and trick him—twice.

But this wasn’t a normal person in control of reasonable faculties. Cara’s head would be rolling already if it were.

But the ghost—the [Knight] was spellbound. He was wide-eyed, starved for news. The most credulous audience you could ask for. Cara turned a wretched face, trying not to enjoy this.

“I do not know your King, Sir Knight. But believe me when I tell you that my father is seeking the truth of this ghost’s claims. Perhaps it is fate that led us together! For you are a ghost, are you not? Perhaps you were sent to me by the heavens themselves, that the truth of this ghost’s claims be born into the light! If

he is the King of Denmark, then we all serve a fratricide of a ruler who sleeps with my grandmother and deserves no mercy from my father, the true King of Denmark. Tell me, sir. Are you a ghost?”

She looked at him. The [Knight] straightened. And then he stood from the coffin and nodded.

“I am. Cursed to wander Noelictus, the Kingdom of Shade, forever more. And we few ghosts who wander this world—your tale is compelling, [Princess] Cara, if she you are.”

He still doubted. But the actress had him on the ropes. The [Knight] frowned, eying her attire.

“Your garb is indeed…unique. And time may have passed me by as I guarded this tomb. I am tempted to take you at your word, Princess Cara, for all your earlier falsehoods. Few could enter Noelictus’