Each morning brought the same ritual. Bam would enter Princess Yihwa's chambers, place his hands gently upon hers, and channel his healing magic to cleanse the venom from her system. To any observer, he appeared the devoted bodyguard—dutiful, protective, loyal.
They couldn't have been more wrong.
Within a year, the symptoms will manifest, Bam thought as he watched the soft glow of his magic envelop the princess's delicate hands. She'll die slowly, painfully. And during that time, I'll systematically dismantle that arrogant king's empire.
His jaw clenched as he recalled the king's vile demeanor, the casual cruelty with which he'd ordered the destruction of Bam's people. By the time you realize I'm crushing your foundations stone by stone, it'll be too late to rebuild. I won't even grant you the mercy of death.
The irony wasn't lost on him. Here he sat, playing the role of her protector while serving as her executioner. Every day, he observed her routines with the detached interest of someone looking at a caged animal. She studied dance and music, absorbed lessons in history and mathematics, and—when she thought no one was looking—slipped into the kitchens to cook alongside the servants.
"For royalty, she's remarkably naive," Bam mused, watching her laugh with a scullery maid as if rank meant nothing.
....
As an elf, Bam required no sleep. His kind could purify both mind and body within moments of meditation. This advantage allowed him to pursue his true work under cover of darkness.
Tonight, like many others, he slipped away to his hidden sanctuary deep within the forest. His space for revenge.
"My lord?"
A scarred elf emerged from the shadows, bowing deeply. Mia's disfigured face bore testament to the nobility's cruelty—a reminder of why they both walked this path of vengeance.
"Are the preparations complete?" Bam asked, examining a vial of midnight-black liquid.
"Yes, my lord. Ready for distribution among the noble factions."
Bam nodded, remembering Mia's story. She and her sister had been kidnapped by nobles years ago. Her sister had sacrificed herself, making Mia's face to be scarred so that Mia might live. Though Mia survived, she'd been deemed 'defective' and cast into the soldiers' barracks. Her sister hadn't been so fortunate.
When Mia's sister finally died from the nobles' abuse, Mia's grief had nowhere to go—until she met Bam. Now they built their fortress of revenge together, brick by bloody brick.
....
"Who goes there?" A patrol guard's voice cut through the night air.
Did I not cast the barrier when I came in? Bam's confusion turned to a cold smile. "Perfect timing for a field test."
He uncorked the vial, releasing tendrils of strange black smoke. The acrid scent hit the soldier immediately, causing him to double over as his nervous system seized. His cheeks flushed crimson, eyes losing focus as the compound took hold.
Then came the laughter—wild, uncontrolled, euphoric. The soldier swayed on his feet, lost in artificial ecstasy.
Bam sealed the vial. As the smoke dispersed, the soldier lunged forward desperately.
"More... please, more!" His eyes held the glazed desperation of the newly addicted.
"Ah, I'm afraid this was my only sample," Bam said with feigned regret. "Custom order, you understand. Not much demand for this particular... remedy."
"I'll pay! Name your price!"
"One hundred gold per bottle..." Bam began.
The soldier's sword appeared at Bam's throat. "Are you mad?"
"...or," Bam continued smoothly, "you could bring me another customer. A noble, specifically."
The soldier's expression shifted from rage to desperate hope. "A noble? Yes! I can do that! Where do I find you?"
"Right here. Same time tomorrow night." Bam pressed the vial into the soldier's trembling hands. "Bring them to me, and I'll ensure you never wait for supply."
After the soldier stumbled away, clutching his precious vial, Bam produced another bottle from his sleeve. He poured its contents over a creeping vine he'd planted nearby. The plant responded instantly, growing to massive proportions while emitting the same intoxicating black vapor.
"When everyone becomes addicted to this poison," Bam murmured, "this kingdom will learn the true meaning of tragedy."
He turned to Mia. "When that fool returns with a noble, you know what to do?"
"Maintain the barrier. Keep innocent citizens away."
"Good." Bam paused. "Those who seek this poison are already sinners. Remember that."
....
Returning through the forest, Bam took an unusual route to avoid the increased patrols. But there, he found an unexpected happening. In a secluded clearing, he glimpsed movement—someone training with a sword.
More soldiers? He prepared to summon a bear to clear the area when a familiar voice reached his ears.
"Your Highness, please come with me. It's far too late for this."
Bam's blood froze. Crouching behind dense foliage, he peered through the leaves and saw the impossible: Princess Yihwa, dressed in training leathers, sweat glistening on her skin as she moved through sword forms with practiced precision. Her pink hair was bound in a practical ponytail, catching moonlight like spun silk.
"But I've barely warmed up!" Yihwa protested, making exaggerated puppy eyes at her maid. "Please? Just a little longer?"
The maid remained unmoved. "Absolutely not. I'm already risking everything by hiding your sword training. It's nearly midnight—you're a princess! What would people think if they—"
She stopped mid-sentence, horror dawning on her face.
Yihwa's expression crumbled, revealing a pain she'd clearly learned to hide. "Nanny... when we're alone, is it too much to ask that you call me 'prince'?"
The words hit Bam like a physical blow. His eyes widened, ears straining to catch every word.
The maid's hands clenched into fists. "Forgive me, Your Highness."
Yihwa's laugh was brittle, hollow. "I don't know how much longer I can maintain this charade. It's becoming..." She looked up at the moon, sighing deeply. "Never mind. Let's go."
"Prince," the maid said softly, "please endure just until your debutante ball. We're so close—"
"I hope you're right, Nanny." Yihwa's smile was heartbreaking in its fragility.
As they departed, Bam remained frozen in disbelief. The princess... is a prince?
....
The next day brought new confusion. Bam watched Yihwa with fresh eyes as she glided through her lessons—etiquette, music, dance. Every movement was flawlessly feminine, every gesture perfectly refined.
How is this possible? Bam found himself staring, trying to reconcile what he'd witnessed with the delicate creature before him. This person is supposedly male?
During their evening healing session, Bam found himself studying Yihwa's hands as his magic flowed between them. The fingers were impossibly delicate, the skin soft as silk. The contrast with his own calloused hands was stark.
No man could have hands this refined, he thought, extending the healing session longer than necessary.
"Everyone out," Yihwa suddenly commanded. "Don't return unless I call for you."
The servants filed out quickly. Bam bowed and began to follow, but Yihwa's voice stopped him cold.
"Not you."
Bam turned slowly, meeting Yihwa's piercing gaze. Those eyes seemed to see straight through him, analyzing his every thought.
"Your Highness?"
Yihwa approached until they stood mere inches apart. "Do you like me?"
The question hit Bam like a lightning bolt. "What?"
"I have eyes," Yihwa said coolly. "You've been staring at me all day. During our healing session, you held my hand longer than necessary, traced my fingers. You took twice as long as usual. How should I interpret this?" Her voice sharpened. "You realize you're the only man allowed in my private chambers, don't you? Did you think such behavior would go unnoticed?"
Bam's mind raced. How naive can one person be?
"You're mistaken, Your Highness," he said stiffly.
"Then what's troubling you enough to caress my hand during healing? Or are you planning something else entirely?"
The suspicion in her voice sent alarm bells through Bam's head. I can't afford complications now, not when my plans are finally in motion.
"Your struggle to answer suggests I'm right," Yihwa continued, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Perhaps you shouldn't return tomorrow—"
Bam panicked. Here goes nothing. "I like men!"
The words exploded from Bam's lips before he could stop them. The chamber fell silent, his declaration echoing off the walls.
Yihwa's eyes widened, lips parting in shock.
I'm an idiot, Bam thought desperately, but committed to the lie. "Forgive me if I gave you the wrong impression, Your Highness. My mind has been... occupied lately. But I want to assure you—I don't find women attractive. Any women. So please, rest easy."
As the words tumbled out, Bam had no way of knowing that this desperate deception would reshape both their destinies in ways neither could imagine.
To be continued...