He sensed something, something new brewing in the hunter's heart, and so he remained quiet and nodded. He walked towards the bonfire, and sat down. Sangfroid did the same.
"A ghost by a tree." Vladstin rubbed his chin. "I think I already know this story, but go on."
"No, you don't. This was about his return." Sangfroid said.
Vladstin raised an eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut respectfully.
Of course, he knows about the 'tree ghost'. It wasn't the one that Sangfroid heard about from the stories of his fellow orphans, the one who died because no one paid attention to him and was exorcised by the priest. No, this was a different ghost.
He was referring to this person who was talking to him right now, this person who has put up so many walls yet finally broken down a few for him.
If not for the prince sleeping peacefully in a small, patched-up tent that has seen better days, that 'ghost' would have been literal.
