Updated Nov 6, 2025 • ~12 min read
Raven woke at dawn from four hours of restless sleep, hand already reaching for the blade under her pillow.
The room was empty. No shadows watching, no violet eyes glowing in the darkness. Just expensive furniture and the faint light of early morning filtering through windows that overlooked an impossible garden.
Right. She was in the Shadow Court. She’d made a deal with the prince she was supposed to kill. She had thirty days to commit successful assassination or become a co-ruler of the deadliest court in existence.
Normal Tuesday.
Raven rolled out of bed and moved through her morning routine—fifty push-ups, fifty sit-ups, stretches that kept her flexible enough to fold through tight spaces. The Guild had trained her body to be a weapon, and weapons required maintenance.
Someone knocked on her door.
Actual knocking. Novel experience in a place where the prince preferred dramatic shadow entrances.
“Come in,” she called, pulling on the black tactical clothes that had been laid out on a chair. Not servant’s attire this time—fitted pants, boots designed for combat, a shirt that allowed full range of motion. Assassin clothes, provided by the court she was trying to destroy from the inside.
The irony wasn’t lost on her.
Vex entered, carrying a leather satchel that probably contained either helpful information or elaborate ways to die. With fae, it was hard to tell.
“Good morning, Assassin Storm.” The spymaster’s tone was polite, but his silver eyes sparkled with amusement. “The prince has asked me to provide you with everything you need for Day One of your mutual suicide pact.”
“It’s not a suicide pact if only one person dies.”
“Technicalities.” He set the satchel on her desk. “I’ve been instructed to give you the grand tour, answer all your questions, and generally enable your murderous intentions toward my employer. This is either the most interesting assignment I’ve had in decades or the precursor to finding a new job.”
Despite herself, Raven almost liked him. “You’ve been his spymaster long?”
“Two hundred years, give or take.” Vex opened the satchel, pulling out rolled maps, documents, and what looked like a small crystal orb. “Long enough to know when he’s serious about something, and trust me—he’s serious about this. He wants you to have a real chance.”
“Why?” She moved closer, studying the contents. “What does he gain from making it easier to kill him?”
“You’d have to ask him that.” Vex spread one of the maps across the desk—a detailed layout of the palace that showed rooms, corridors, and notations in silver ink. “But if I had to guess? He’s tired. Not suicidal, exactly. Just… finished. Three hundred years ruling the Shadow Court, and I think he’s been waiting for someone worthy to either kill him or give him a reason to keep living.”
Raven traced the map with one finger. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on an assassin.”
“You did infiltrate his court with murder in mind.” Vex pulled out more maps—one of the gardens, one of the dungeons, one of the surrounding territories. “Fair’s fair.”
She studied each map carefully, committing details to memory. Guard posts, patrol routes, rooms marked with warnings like “unstable shadows” and “temporal distortions.” The Shadow Court palace was as dangerous as its ruler.
“These are accurate?” She pointed to a corridor marked “shifting hallway—changes every three hours.”
“Completely.” Vex handed her the crystal orb. “This will help with navigation. It shows your location in real-time and updates as the palace shifts. Don’t lose it. The prince had it specially made, and it costs more than most kingdoms.”
Raven held the orb up to the light. Inside, tiny shadows swirled and formed a miniature map. Her location glowed as a small white dot. “This is incredible.”
“The prince has many talents.” Vex pulled out more documents. “His schedule for the next thirty days. Meetings, court appearances, private time. Everything you need to plan optimal strike windows.”
She scanned the schedule. He’d actually written down when he’d be most vulnerable. Training sessions in the yard—distracted. Evening baths—unarmored. Late-night chess games alone—isolated.
“This is too much information.” She looked up at Vex. “He’s making it too easy.”
“Is he?” The spymaster’s smile was knowing. “Look closer.”
Raven studied the schedule again. Training sessions—but he’d be in combat mode, reflexes sharp. Baths—in rooms probably protected by shadow magic. Chess games—alone, but that meant no witnesses, no proof of death.
Every “vulnerability” had a hidden complication.
“He’s testing me.” The realization settled cold in her stomach. “These aren’t weaknesses. They’re traps disguised as opportunities.”
“Some of them, certainly.” Vex didn’t confirm or deny. “But some are genuine openings. Your job is to figure out which is which. That’s part of the challenge.”
Clever. Provide information but make her question all of it. Keep her off-balance, uncertain, constantly reevaluating.
Prince Draven Shadowfire had been playing this game for five hundred years. Of course he’d be good at it.
“What else?” Raven set the schedule aside. “You said you’d answer questions.”
“Within reason.” Vex leaned against the desk. “I’m loyal to the prince, but he’s ordered me to be helpful. So ask.”
“His magic. Shadow manipulation. What are the limits?”
“You’ve seen him dissolve into darkness. He can travel through any shadow, become intangible, see through darkness across his entire realm.” Vex counted off on his fingers. “He’s functionally invisible in dim light, can create constructs from shadow, and his physical form is enhanced by fae magic. Stronger, faster, more durable than mortals.”
“Weaknesses?”
“Bright light disrupts his shadow-travel. Pure iron burns him, as it does all fae. And he’s not actually intangible all the time—maintaining shadow-form requires concentration. Surprise him badly enough, and he’ll solidify on reflex.”
Raven filed that away. Light, iron, surprise. Not much, but more than she’d had before.
“The seventeen previous assassins,” she continued. “How did they actually fail?”
Vex’s expression turned grim. “Various ways. Three tried poison—he’s immune to most mortal toxins and highly resistant to magical ones. Five attempted ambush tactics—he sensed them coming. Four challenged him to direct combat—he’s had five hundred years of sword practice. Two tried elaborate traps—he’s too smart to fall for obvious setups. Two tried to turn his court against him—they were betrayed within hours. And one tried seduction followed by backstabbing.”
“What happened to that one?”
“He married her, figured out her plan on the wedding night, and she’s been sealed in crystal in the throne room ever since.” Vex’s tone suggested he didn’t approve. “Conscious but frozen. He visits her sometimes to ask if she’s learned anything about patience.”
Dark. Efficient. Absolutely terrifying.
“So what’s the secret?” Raven met Vex’s eyes. “How do I actually kill someone who’s survived seventeen attempts and five hundred years?”
“You don’t think like an assassin.” Vex pushed off from the desk. “Every other attempt approached him as a target to eliminate. You need to approach him as a person to understand. Learn what he wants, what he fears, what he values. Then use that against him.”
It was almost exactly what Draven had told her last night.
“He put you up to saying that.” She crossed her arms.
“He suggested I mention it, yes.” Vex smiled. “But I’m elaborating because I like you, and I think you might actually have a chance. The prince needs this. Needs someone who can match him. Whether that means you kill him or rule beside him, either outcome is better than watching him slowly fade into bored apathy.”
“I’m not here to save him.” Raven’s voice came out harder than intended. “I’m here to complete a contract.”
“Are those mutually exclusive?” Vex moved toward the door. “Tour starts in ten minutes. I’ll show you the training yards, armories, libraries, and all the places the prince frequents. Try to absorb as much as possible. Your thirty days started at midnight, so you’re already burning time.”
He left before she could respond.
Raven looked at the maps, the schedule, the crystal orb that showed her exact location in an impossible palace. Everything she needed to kill a prince.
Everything he’d given her freely.
She picked up the orb, watching the shadows swirl inside. This wasn’t how assassinations worked. Targets didn’t provide their own schedules. Didn’t offer resources. Didn’t actively help plan their own deaths.
But Prince Draven Shadowfire wasn’t a normal target.
And this wasn’t a normal contract.
Raven tucked the orb into her pocket, rolled the maps carefully, and strapped on the weapons that had been provided. Time to see exactly what kind of game she’d agreed to play.
The tour took three hours and covered more ground than should be physically possible in a single building.
Vex led her through corridors that shifted when she wasn’t looking, up staircases that seemed to exist in multiple places at once, and through rooms that definitely violated the laws of spatial physics. The Shadow Court palace was less a building and more a pocket dimension held together by fae magic and architectural impossibility.
“Training yards.” Vex gestured to a massive courtyard where fae warriors sparred with weapons that glowed various colors. “The prince trains here most mornings. He’s usually focused on his opponent, which makes it a reasonable ambush opportunity.”
“Except he’s in combat mode, reflexes sharp, surrounded by loyal warriors.” Raven studied the yard. “And I’m mortal. I’d be dead in seconds.”
“Probably.” Vex smiled. “But points for recognizing the trap.”
They moved on. The armory contained enough weapons to outfit an army, all available for her use. The library held centuries of knowledge, including detailed accounts of fae physiology and weaknesses. The gardens were beautiful, deadly, and full of plants that could kill in creative ways.
And everywhere, shadows watched.
She could feel it now, after making the deal. The weight of eyes in the darkness, the sense of awareness in every shadow. Prince Draven could see through any of them, could be watching her right now.
It should have been unnerving. Instead, it was almost comforting. At least she knew where the surveillance was.
“Throne room.” Vex opened massive double doors, and Raven stepped into a space that stole her breath.
The room was carved from obsidian and shadow, with columns that seemed to absorb light. The throne sat on a dais at the far end—black stone wrapped in permanent darkness, radiating power and ancient magic. And sealed in crystal beside it, exactly as Vex had described, was a beautiful fae woman with terror frozen on her face.
“He keeps her there as a reminder,” Vex said quietly. “What happens when you try to manipulate the Shadow Prince with lies and seduction.”
Raven studied the crystal prison. “How long has she been there?”
“Fifty years.”
“That’s…” She didn’t have words for what that was.
“Cruel? Excessive? A warning?” Vex shrugged. “The Shadow Court doesn’t forgive betrayal. Especially not from someone who claimed to love him.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and Raven felt the weight of what she’d undertaken. This wasn’t just killing a powerful target. This was challenging someone who had ruled through cunning and ruthlessness for longer than her entire civilization had existed.
“Last stop.” Vex led her out of the throne room, up more impossible stairs, to a door carved with intricate shadow patterns. “The prince’s private chambers. Off-limits except during specific windows he’s marked on your schedule.”
“Why show me if they’re off-limits?”
“So you know where they are when those windows arrive.” Vex handed her a small black key. “This will get you through the door during permitted times. Try it outside those times, and you’ll be teleported to the dungeons. Fair warning.”
Raven took the key. It was cold, made of some dark metal she didn’t recognize. “He really has thought of everything.”
“Five hundred years of experience will do that.” Vex checked a pocket watch that showed multiple times at once. “You have the afternoon free to plan. Tonight, you’re invited to dinner in the private dining hall. The prince wants to discuss your first attempt.”
“My first attempt?”
“To kill him. He’s very excited to see what you’ll try.” Vex’s expression suggested this was the most normal thing in the world. “He’s taking bets with himself on whether you’ll go for poison or blade first.”
“This is insane.”
“This is the Shadow Court.” Vex smiled. “Same thing. Dinner is at eight. Don’t be late. He hates when people are late.”
“What happens if I’m late?”
“Absolutely nothing. He just finds it rude.” The spymaster headed back down the corridor. “Good luck, Assassin Storm. You’re going to need it.”
He disappeared around a corner, leaving her alone in front of the prince’s private chambers with a key that would either let her in or teleport her to a dungeon, depending on timing.
Raven looked at the key in her palm, then at the door.
Somewhere beyond that carved shadow-wood, Prince Draven Shadowfire was probably planning his own strategy. Anticipating her moves. Preparing for whatever assassination attempt she’d devise.
And tonight, they’d have dinner like civilized people before she tried to kill him.
This was the strangest contract she’d ever taken.
But the Guild binding magic hummed in her bones, and the map in her pocket showed seventeen different routes to seventeen different opportunities.
Thirty days minus one.
Twenty-nine days to kill a prince who’d given her everything she needed.
Twenty-nine days to figure out if he actually wanted her to succeed, or if this was the most elaborate trap ever designed.
Raven pocketed the key and headed back to her rooms. She had plans to make, poisons to prepare, and a dinner appointment with a target who was looking forward to her first murder attempt.
Time to get to work.
Behind her, in the shadows of the doorway, violet eyes watched her leave.
And Prince Draven Shadowfire smiled, wondering which attack she’d try first.
The game was underway.
And both players were already planning seven moves ahead.
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