The Throne Room of Aldebaran was designed to intimidate. The ceilings were too high, the shadows too deep, and the air was always kept few degrees too cold.

  Regent Kael sat on the throne that wasn't technically his yet. He claimed he was merely keeping it warm for the "healing of the Kingdom."

  "Report," Kael said, not looking up from the datapad in his lap.

  General Sarek, the head of Intelligence, stood at attention. He was a man who sweated too much, especially when he had bad news.

  "We have scoured the sector, my Lord," Sarek began, wiping his forehead with a silk handkerchief. "We have followed every lead. The reward money has generated... enthusiasm."

  "How much enthusiasm?"

  "Over one hundred confirmed sightings in the last week alone," Sarek sighed. "We had reports of the Princess waiting tables in the Core. We had reports of her mining asteroids in the Belt. We even had one report that she was leading a pirate fleet in the Outer Rim."

  "And?"

  "All false. Drunks looking for a payout. Mentally unstable citizens seeking attention. We have wasted millions of credits chasing ghosts."

  Kael finally looked up. His eyes were cold chips of ice. "So she is a ghost?"

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "We found something concrete," Sarek stepped forward, tapping a holographic projector.

  A grainy image of debris floating in the orange mist of a nebula appeared.

  "We recovered fragments of a tracking beacon heavily damaged by solar radiation," Sarek explained. "And nearby... trace biochemical residue. DNA."

  "Hers?"

  "A match," Sarek nodded. "It appears the containment unit she was... transported in... was destroyed. Likely ejected into a star or caught in a solar flare."

  Kael stared at the debris.

  "So she is dead."

  "High probability," Sarek said. "Or she is stranded in deep space without a ship. Given the hostile environment of that sector... survival is statistically zero."

  Kael drummed his fingers on the armrest of the throne. He didn't like "statistically zero." He liked "confirmed body."

  But the cost of the hunt was becoming a political liability. The Noble Houses were already grumbling about the "Emergency Tax."

  "Downgrade the priority," Kael ordered.

  Sarek blinked. "My Lord?"

  "Call off the active hunter-killer teams," Kael said, waving a hand dismissively. "Stop authorized payouts for sightings. It's making us look desperate. If she is dead, we are chasing ash. If she is alive, she has no allies, no money, and no army."

  He stood up and walked to the massive window overlooking the burning capital city.

  "Let her run," Kael whispered. "A Princess without a throne is just a beggar. She is no threat to me."

  He turned back to Sarek.

  "But keep the passive listening posts active. If anyone uses her Bio-Codes... if anyone tries to access the Royal Accounts... I want to know."

  "As you command, Regent," Sarek bowed.

  Kael turned back to the window. He watched the smoke rise from the ruins of the Old Guard's barracks. He had won. The Kingdom was his. And somewhere, out in the cold dark, the last ember of the old dynasty had likely flickered out.

  He slept soundly that night.

  It was the last mistake he would ever make.