Laurel's grandfather lived long enough for his chamberlain to send her his best wishes on her sixteenth birthday. A few weeks later, he died.

  To her surprise, she was allowed to travel with her family for the funeral, though she wasn't given a carriage. Her horse was a beautiful black gelding, hers largely because he was one of the few horses not easily spooked her. She had to resist the urge to gallop ahead, as it would've been considered poor form to outpace her father, who was now the King - or soon to be - especially on such a sombre occasion. So, she occupied her mind with the sights and sounds of the countryside.

  Even during the day, the roads were not free of nightmares and she spotted quite a few fairies, gnomes and even a shade or two hiding beneath roadside canopies. If they thought much of her, or her ruby eyes, they gave her no sign, quite unlike the things that lived on the grounds of the palace. She wondered if they'd grown dull and harmless, as it was rumoured could happen. If a particularly weak nightmare spent a long time in the sun it could, apparently, do little more than startle children and small animals. A few hours went by before she saw anything larger than a dog.

  In the darkened light of the late evening, a ghoul had been spotted feasting on the remains of an elderly peasant and her father's guards had cut it down. Trusting her ability to catch back up, she stopped and came down from her horse to inspect the creature. Its pale skin, so much like her own, disturbed her. Its bloody face was monstrous enough for her not to feel much kinship with it, however. She poked and prodded at it, causing some of its gruesome red-black blood to seep out of an open wound. The side of her that was a demure young lady of royal birth was disgusted but the nightmare in her blood responded with a growl of hunger. She made sure that the carriages were far enough out of sight before leaning over and biting down hard on the dead thing's neck.

  She drained its blood, slowly and carefully to avoid staining her clothes, and returned to her horse. Making up the distance was quite easy and no one in the rear-guard questioned her absence, either because they knew she could handled herself or, more likely, because they felt no obligation to care. She idly wondered whether human blood would taste as good but assured herself that it wasn't something she'd ever investigate. No, she was quite happy to imagine a life as a dream hunter, perhaps beyond the wall where she could gorge to her heart's content. Maybe, amongst the dreamling tribes, she would even find a kindred spirit. As it stood, she was entirely bereft of companionship.

  Sarah had been married off by her father, a thing that was still a little too painful for her to think about. She'd offered to run away with her and been roundly rejected. Since then, she'd been alone.

  The sound of battle up ahead tore her free of such thoughts, however, and she raced towards it. Creatures of shadow descended upon the vanguard at sunset and had begun to menace the carriages. Upon closer inspection, she felt adrenaline and excitement flood through her veins. They were vampires! At least five fresh trueborn vampires, all female. One guard had been taken off his horse and dropped from a great height before she could get herself into combat but once she joined in, the tide turned against the creatures. She picked up a fallen guard's sword and wielded the hefty piece of steel as if it were as light as a feather, poking and slashing at the monsters with fine precision.

  Once four of them were dead, the fifth began to flee, getting quite high up into the sky before Laurel threw her sword right through her skull. Their remains were hastily tied up and staked, before being arranged in a nearby field, ready for the next morning. Two guards had been bitten and were likewise tied up, though left in a different field. Come morning, they'd either burn to ash or make their way, on foot, back home. Apparently, one could never be sure, with a vampiric infection, how much contact was too much. No one thanked her for her intervention, of course, and she returned to back of the line.

  She wondered where the vampires had come from and how she'd intuited from their smell that they were so young. It was possible, but very unlikely, that someone asleep in one of the carriages had given birth to them but, given how violent they were, they'd surely have made more of a mess before leaving. They could've come from some far off farmstead but there was no sign of such a thing and they couldn't have come from too far away because of how close to sunset it was. She puzzled it out a little longer and came to the tentative conclusion that one of the guards had fallen asleep whilst riding, as hard as it was to imagine.

  She stayed close to the torchlight, for her horse's sake as much as her own, as they journeyed through the darkness. A more aggressive fairy tried to nip at her but she caught it and crushed it. Other than that, none of the travellers suffered from any harassment. They took a short rest at dawn and Laurel used the opportunity to explore a little, on foot. What she found most remarkable was how ordinary country life seemed in the daytime. She saw cattle and horses roaming with little restriction, and peasants wandering, alone, in various directions. She'd never been afraid of the dark but she'd always known how dangerous it was, even in a palace with dozens of well-armed and well-trained guards.

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  The simple folk here lived in ramshackle huts and hovels and walked miles this way and that, without protection. She wondered whether their moods changed dramatically at sunset or if they were just a hardier lot. They were certainly friendlier than the people she was used to. Despite her eyes, they would smile at her and greet her. Some would even bow, on account of her fine clothes. 'I'm so sorry for you loss, my lady,' one man said.

  He was short but stocky, with a sunburnt bald head and a scruffy white beard. 'Thank you,' she replied, not knowing what else to say.

  'His majesty will be sorely missed, my lady. He was good to us common folk.'

  That was nice to hear. 'I'm sure my father will follow suit.' She was actually far from sure. She knew her father less and less well as the years passed but it seemed like a good thing to say.

  The man bowed lower, then. 'I didn't know I was in the presence of a princess. Forgive me, my lady.'

  'That's perfectly alright,' she replied. Laurel had not felt like a princess since she was very little. 'Our carriages encountered vampires last night,' she said, changing the subject, 'but we don't know where they came from.'

  He reacted instantly, widening his eyes. 'Vampires?! I will have to hang more garlic on the barn doors. I'm sorry to say I wouldn't know where they've come from. Our lad dreamt up a gremlin once, nearly scared my wife to death but that's the worst we've had in years.'

  'Well, it can never hurt to be careful. I'm sure things will calm down once the country has adjusted to their new king.' They parted ways after that and she rejoined the carriages. She chewed on what he'd said for a while after. Whether the proliferation of nasties could be blamed on her grandfather's passing was an idea she'd initially been resistant to but she now supposed that it was true. The days and nights of travel to the capital were hard on the others but not her. That ghoul's blood had left her with strength to spare. When they finally arrived, she was stunned by the city. It was another thing she'd only ever seen in pictures.

  There were rows upon rows of apartments, housing commoners but made of brick, and the air was alive with the scent of spices, fresh fruits and roasting meats. She kept her composure as she strode through the crowds but her eyes darted here and there, taking in as many sights as possible. She saw dreamlings for the first time, a little boy with red eyes just like hers and translucent skin, a man with the head of a wolf, twin girls with butterfly wings who fluttered after their beleaguered mother. What astounded her more was that they received no dark looks or muttered curses from anyone. Callum and his sisters looked eager to run off, drawn by scenes of play or the promise of hot sweets but she imagined that she was much more desperate than even them to get herself lost in this wondrous place.

  Still, she felt a sense of obligation to her grandfather - if nothing else - and kept walking. The funeral was held on the grounds of the royal palace. Its gardens were less impressive than the ones back home but the structure itself was a whole storey taller and was built from gorgeous white marble. The symbol of the royal family, a blackened heart, adorned a dozen flags atop the palace. It seemed quite fitting for a funeral. Her grandmother appeared inconsolable as she regarded them, kissing her son's cheek before before moving on to her.

  'Laurel, my dear,' she said between sobs, 'I'm so happy you're here.' She did not seem happy but Laurel hugged her tightly all the same before they all broke apart to take their seats. All except her father, who stood to deliver the eulogy. He didn't look at her once as he did so and she tuned it out.

  Hers was one of the last roses thrown atop his casket before he was buried and her step-mother wasted no time in spoiling the mood, once the rest of the guests had begun to peel off.

  'You'll not be staying with us,' she said.

  'I figured as much.'

  'You won't be heading back to the old palace, either.'

  'Oh?' Now that wasn't something she'd figured.

  'You are sixteen years old, now. You're a grown woman and you can make your own way in the world. You'll find your possessions in the servants carriage, along with your part of your grandfather's inheritance. I told Julian that you weren't entitled to it, since you're a bastard dreamling, but you know he has a soft spot for you. So, there you are. Good luck.'

  Laurel wanted to scream or swear at her but, instead, she said nothing and made her way to the carriage, where she found a satchel bag with a single change of clothes, a handful of books - not nearly enough to account for all her gifts over the years - and two hundred pounds in cash.

  'You have to leave now, my lady,' one of the guards said.

  She wanted to tell him that she could snap his neck in the blink of an eye but, once again, she said nothing. With a distinct lack of haste, Laurel withdrew from the palace grounds and entered the city centre. Her first decision as an independent was to get lunch. She struggled to decide between a stall selling roasted pork and another selling toffee apples. The meat smelled very good but she was set in her ways. Even with half a gallon of ghoulish blood in her belly she somehow still thought of herself as a vegetarian, so she parted with a tuppence and ate a sweet treat by the fountain, watching commoners rush here and there.

  Laurel had a lot of ideas about what to do and where to go but it seemed so strange to actually need to decide what she was going to do with her life.