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There's a ghost in the king’s palace.
I’ve only seen him at a hallway’s distance, late at night, but his pale skin and pale hair were striking.
Eventually I work up my courage and ask one of the princess’ ladies-in-waiting about him.
“A ghost?”
She laughs at me, gentle and kind.
“He is no ghost, but a man. The king’s Hawk, his living weapon.”
Some nights later, I round a corner and see him up close. Not a ghost at all, but a man, alive, with pale skin and pale hair and blood on his hands. The king’s Hawk indeed.