Hanako Tepes's Arc

Chapter 7 of 8

The witch lay frozen in the arena sand, a Nordic dagger at her feet. The court cheered the Ice Queen. But Hanako stood over the pinned woman and felt no relief. Maria wiped blood from her hands and studied her stepmother. "You caught your snake," Maria said. "So why does your face say otherwise?" Hanako knelt. She pressed one cold finger to the witch's cheek and asked one question. "Who sent you?" The witch spat and laughed through frozen lips. "A trained hand," the witch said. "I only carried the blade for the one who never touches it herself." Then the witch's eyes rolled white. Her heart burst inside her chest. Blood froze in the air above her. Someone had reached into the arena and killed their own agent before she could name a master. Maria felt it too. "That was blood work. Fine work. Not mine." She scanned the seats. "Only a few in Walachia can pull a heart from across a room." Hanako rose. She understood then. The steward, the couriers, this dying witch — all of it was noise. A cheap distraction thrown to keep her chasing shadows. The real traitor had come to Dracula's court wrapped in silk, welcomed at the door. High in the seats, one figure did not cheer. Carmilla de Styria sat still in her black lace, silver thread catching the torchlight. She had arrived in Walachia as a guest, a countess charming her way toward a throne of her own. Now she watched Hanako with the calm of a woman watching a play she had already read. Hanako climbed the arena steps toward her. Two of Dracula's royal guards moved to block the aisle, spears crossing, black capes shifting over their armored shoulders. Carmilla lifted one long-nailed finger. The guards stepped back. That alone told Hanako everything. The guards obeyed a guest before their own queen. "You killed her," Hanako said. "She was spent." Carmilla did not rise. "You spent months freezing stewards and couriers. Small hands. I sent them so you would look down and not up." She smiled without warmth. "You are looking up now." Frost climbed Hanako's arm. The seats around them iced over. Vampires scrambled from their benches. But Carmilla only tilted her head, and Hanako felt her own rage cool against her will, her voice softening in her throat before she chose it. "You cannot freeze what the court already loves," Carmilla said. "Half of Walachia would bleed for me by spring. Accuse me, and they defend me. You have no proof but a dead witch." She stood at last, gown pooling like ink. "Go home, Ice Queen." Hanako let the frost fall from her arm. Carmilla was right. She had no proof, no allies she could trust, and a court already turning. She walked back down the steps. She had her traitor's name at last. And she had never been further from stopping her.