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Chapter Text

Jakapan  

Since I was born, my destiny was more than written. There was no way to change it for smarter they told me  I was. 

In reality there was no promising future for a virgin and intelligent slave but that did not stop me from devouring every papyrus turned into a book that fell into my hands not only because I found the stories I read terribly interesting but that distracted me from the cruel fate. 

When you were born as a slave there were not many options, especially when every year that passed the date approached when I would reach the age to be eligible to be sold in marriage with the king. 

Anyone else would be radiant with happiness for leaving the poor town where we lived for a better destination in the palace but I didn't, because I knew perfectly  well the fate that was waiting for me once the king's servants repaired my slave persona as a potential husband. 

It was known to everyone that the king of the place chose a slave to marry, claimed the wedding night with the chosen husband and the next day the chosen one was executed. No one knew for sure why this was, only that years ago a husband of the king tried to kill him to fulfill a mission of the enemy kingdom. They said that the king had loved his husband and that this treason hurt him so much that he decided that anyone who married him would end up dead as revenge for what happened. 

I didn't know if I was attractive or not but that was one of the characteristics that the king's servants were looking for when they went out to look for a new husband when the king was inclined to get married again. Attractive men whom he executed the day after he got married. 

Although I was a slave, I loved my life because I had hoped that it would improve, but when I saw that the guards of the palace were coming in the direction of our town, a terrible feeling began to darken my enlightened way of seeing life. 

We had to be gathered in the square center of the town where we would be exposed as meat to be chosen, those who did not manage to attract the attention of the palace guards would be returned, those who drew attention would be taken to the palace where the king would choose the one he likes the most to get married.  

My mother put on me the ugliest clothes she found in an attempt to avoid attracting attention over me. I was also afraid because I didn't want to get away from her and I honestly started praying to Buddha to go unnoticed. 

The drums that announced our required presence on the central stage began to rumble just as my heart did in my head. I went up behind other men and we were lined up while the palace guards on horseback began to inspect us. 

We couldn't see the face of any of them since they all had their faces wrapped up. But even so I could feel the piercing gaze of all of them on us. I kept my head down like the others and in my mind I regretted that I didn't put a dirt stain on me to look more disgusting. 

But nothing had helped because in the end the guard riding on the largest and only black horse among the group raised a white hand and pointed in my direction. 

My head screamed negatives again and again while the guard next to the one who selected me got off the horse and walked towards me with the intention of picking me up.

Any false movement would be considered an offense and I could be dead the minute I decided to run away,  and at that moment when I knew that I had been the chosen one, my head only focused on designing strategies to ensure the king killing me

The war to save my life had just begun. 

Chapter Text

King Wichapas  

Since Naphat, a dark spirit had taken possession of me. One who wanted to destroy everyone with whom I married as a revenge against the human being. I could be called crazy and the truth mattered little to me.  

I was king for a reason, and the kingdom had prospered somewhat since I took over. The disasters of my father, the old king, had plunged all the towns almost into misery and it had cost me blood and tears to try to repair what he did when my brother Prince Nanakun accidentally killed him. Only he and I knew about it. I didn't want to put my brother in danger so we covered everything up to make it appear that our father the king had died of a sudden heart attack.  

Since no one appreciated my father, succeeding him to the throne was easy. And in fact I considered myself a good king just like the subjects until Naphat came into my life.  

I fell in love with him like a fool, falling squarely into his web of conquest, not even letting my brother’s advices against Naphat interfered with my desire to make him my consort. 

But Nanakun had been right when he mistrusted Naphat since after our royal wedding, I almost found myself with an exquisitely jeweled dagger stuck in my chest. Naphat had attempted to assassinate me, and only my keen senses of defense—those acquired through my father's brutal mistreatment—saved me at that moment. I never slept soundly, especially not after that. 

In the cells under torture, he confessed his true status as a spy and was executed under my eyes, those which my brother claimed to have lost any resemblance of humanity at the same time as Naphat died. 

As if a curse had fallen on me, I longed for revenge, I also wanted to beat myself up for having been so blind and for having almost died because of love.

So I developed a routine that allowed me to stifle my desire for sadism and revenge by murdering every consort I had after Naphat.  

It was like therapy and I wasn't even moved when they begged for their lives. Maybe they were innocent, maybe not, and I didn't care to know. Every person who came near me, except my brother, was considered a potential threat to my life. 

After my last husband was executed five months ago, I had devoted myself to the errands of the kingdom, but soon the need for physical contact became acute.  

I didn't send for whores because I didn't like them, I preferred slaves because I could easily discard them.  

I wanted a distraction, so when I told Knight, the captain of my royal guard, that I would go with them to personally choose the slaves, although he looked at me with surprise, he agreed, only on the condition that he would keep me covered like the rest of the group, disguised as a guard to not attract attention. 

My horse was saddled without the royal markings, yet it stood out because it was the largest and the only black stallion, my favorite color.  

We headed towards the town that would supply the slaves this year. I didn't expect anything different. In fact, I went out more than anything because I was bored to death. 

This was the town in which I would have to invest more goods, it was one of the ones that my father razed too many times. Even so they were condescending and formed those who were of age to be elected, within the range that I had imposed; The same age Naphat was when he tried to kill me. 

They were all more of the same. I let my gaze wander down the line of eight people trying to identify something that looked remotely interesting to me. Apparently none of them were and I was about to turn around when I noticed someone much dirtier than the rest, even with his head down, and with those horrible clothes, over my eyes I could identify the graceful shape of a small body.  

The slender, vein-protruding hands were clasped together in front, and unlike the rest of the clothing they were clean, white, and…pretty. 

I shouldn't have been fooled. In fact, I could enjoy that seemingly hidden beauty for one night. None of the others caught my attention. So I simply pointed to the one whose hands seemed interesting to me and sealed his fate.  

He would be my consort for one night.  

The next day after the wedding he would die. 

Jakapan  

They gave me just enough time to say goodbye to mama. She was crying and I wanted to cry too, but I had to be strong and the only thing she wanted me to promise her was the one thing I didn't know if I could keep.

She told me to change my clothes because there was no point in going dirty when that had been the strategy in the beginning to avoid attracting attention to me, a strategy that had failed miserably.

I was too scared, but I stayed calm because I didn't want to upset her. We had both accepted what happened and that she couldn't do anything to help me this time. 

-I will live, mama, I will not let King Sumettikul kill me- I assured her whispering so as not to be heard by the guards who were waiting for me outside. 

- How? - 

I didn't know yet either, but I was getting an idea. If I learned anything from everything I had read throughout my life, it was that authors used to leave the best part of their stories on hold to create a feeling of anticipation, so that whoever reads them would have to wait. It wasn't the most reasonable of strategies, but it was the only one I could think of, and it was the only thing I was good at: storyteller Jakapan springing into action.

I might die, the king might not be fond of stories. My entire strategy was full of what ifs, but one thing was for sure, I would try to survive even if I had the guillotine on my neck. 

There was no need to pack anything, because I had nothing special that I wanted to take with me and because the captain of the king's guard was kind enough to remind me that in the palace they would give me everything to live until the day of my execution. 

My curious inner self really wanted to know what were the reasons why the king decided that for all his consorts. It was rumored that he had been victim of an attempted regicide, but no one knew the details. I wondered if I would live long enough to find out. I also did not know the king personally, I only know the paintings of him that were exhibited in the town school. But they blurred the features and I couldn't associate anything in those paintings with a real face. 

When I left the house, the royal guard was still there and my eyes immediately diverted to the big black horse, different from the others, which remained upright supporting the weight of its rider.

Without thinking about what I was doing, I walked up to that horse precisely unable to prevent a smile from those grandmothers used to say that would light up even the darkest night, spread all over my face, making my fear take a step back.

I caressed the horse's nose and part of its head, marveling at the softness of the hair. The horse moved its muzzle slowly in my hand as if it liked my touch and although I preferred cats this horse was hard to ignore. 

A white hand appeared in my field of vision seconds later. I looked up but I could only see a pair of black eyes that were roaming me up and down without stopping at a specific part, or not, specifically that guard was looking at my face and he did it so penetratingly that, although his eyes were the only thing that I had uncovered my face, it made the hair behind my neck stand on end irretrievably and the smile from seconds before vanished. It seemed that I could not longer delay the inevitable. 

-Come on, ride up – said the voice behind all the cloth that covered the face, the same protection that the rest of the royal guard had. I bowed my head in surrender and took the offered hand, surprised at how strong it felt. With that help I mounted the horse's back behind the royal guard and I wondered where I should hold on so as not to fall when the horse began to move.

- Hold on to me - said the rider as if he had read my thoughts. 

With some shame I slipped my arms around the royal guard's waist and he urged the horse to head towards the main path of the town. I looked back to record in my memory the image of my people, endlessly wishing that I would be granted the grace to see them all again, especially my grandmother. 

The wind hit my face because of the speed at which the horse was going and it was uncomfortable. As the rider offered me his mount, I had no choice but to grip his narrow waist tighter and lean my forehead against his back to escape the uncomfortable air speed. 

I didn't know how long the ride took, only that when I lifted my head from the rider's back we were crossing the main entrance to the palace. I couldn't help but size up the place since, as with the king, I had never seen it in person.

Of course it was tremendous in size, with large gardens and a gray structure similar to that of clouds. High towers surrounded by vines gave the place an appearance from a story, like the ones I read.

The birds were singing and the atmosphere was so joyous that it was hard to imagine that there was a king out there murdering people he married to satisfy whatever his need was.  

The royal rider dismounted first and offered me his arms to climb down. I put my hands on his shoulders and jumped too close to him. He had been mildly kind so I stepped away and bowed in thanks waiting for what was the next step to take. 

Another horseman approached me and took my arm, quickly moving me away from whoever transported me. I couldn't help but look at him even when I was practically being dragged into the palace and I saw that this horseman was watching me in the same position he was in when I walked away. 

Chapter Text

King Wichapas

The slave was taking too long to say goodbye and I was already getting impatient, he shouldn't have the right to anything more than to breathe, but a gesture from Knight pointing towards the door of the hovel told me that the wait was over.

The first thing I thought when I saw the slave dressed in clothes other than the dirty cloak with which he had been presented, was that this was a consort I  would enjoy a lot. I had no specific liking for the people I chose to marry, being human was enough, but the glimpse of his slender hands didn't do justice to the rest of him. The hair was cut in a cup shape, but it was as black and bright as the hair of Kan, my horse. The skin was white and the face was angular, with a turned-up nose and red lips. The smile that crossed his face when he saw Kan was like being punched between the eyes, because I suddenly found him quite attractive just for that fleeting gesture. He didn't have to smile, he was on his way to his murder and yet the slave took the time to pet Kan and look adorable enough. But Naphat was adorable,  too, and only when I saw his true colors and his hate-filled eyes did I understand that appearances could be severely deceiving.

I offered my hand to the slave and found that they were exactly as I saw them, white, slender, with protruding veins, and unusually smooth. Knight was probably biting his tongue to keep from saying anything, since it wasn't customary for me to come into contact with slaves until the wedding. But in fact my presence in this selection was already unusual, generally what arrived at the palace were large groups of slaves from which I chose one.

I put the slave on Kan, behind me, I had never used that part of the saddle because it was usually just me riding the horse, and I told him to hold on to me to move forward. As Kan picked up speed, I noticed the grip on my waist increase and a soft weight was placed between my shoulder blades. Suddenly the effluvium came to me something similar to what vanilla smelled but we were riding in the middle of the forest, so it could be a flower or something else. I didn't pay much attention to it because I didn't want to analyze the sudden comfort that action had on my own body. I concentrated on taking the horse's reins and heading towards the palace.

When we got there Knight took the slave away I stood in the middle of the patio where we arrived because I had just realized that the smell I felt before did not come from any flower, it was the smell of the person I chose as my next consort to annihilate

I withdrew what served to camouflage my person in this harvest and headed towards the interior of the palace listening to the chatter of my brother in the distance.

When night fell, the program established for the days before the royal wedding continued. The slave's body would be bathed, cleaned and arranged for the wedding and the night after. I was suddenly very curious to see what the groomed slave looked like. Knight arrived at the royal chambers approximately two hours later to inform me that preparations for the new consort had begun. He knew the process of beautification, a last touch of perfection before death.

This was the routine I knew, the one I had established, the one I would maintain until one day I got tired of killing consorts, or the kingdom ran out of slaves. 

Knight withdrew from my room, and once he was gone I raised the wall hanging at the right of my book stand, that gave me access to a secret exit from my room that led to the servants' harems. I didn't fully understand what came over me. only when I got to the hidden wall of this place in the middle of the corridors I heard a low and hoarse voice speaking slowly while the sound that usually characterized this place was not heard.

I opened the secret door a little and was able to focus my vision on the room, where each one of the servants of the bathrooms was sitting around someone else, someone who from behind looked familiar to me and who was wrapped in a purple robe with arabesques, suitable for use after a full body waxing and bath.

It took me a little while to find out, from the flailing of his hands, that the person speaking was the slave I had just collected,

-This is the story of Samamun the king who could not smile - the slave's voice was singing and invited to be heard. Something that hadn't happened since I decided to do without the buffoons or storytellers from the palace, because they didn't entertain me at all. This was different, the cadence and tonality were capable of attracting attention and that was proven when all the servants raised their eyes to look at the new slave who, somehow, was attracting attention with what seemed to be a story. - They said that this ability was stolen from him by a jinni since he was a child and this brought him a reputation that instilled fear in all his enemies. Samamun had servants and animals, but something was missing... Samamun was missing someone to make him laugh...-

I found myself inevitably sitting on the cold rock behind the secret door that hid me, willing to hear who Samamun was and what he would do to get to laugh again.

Jakapan

King Samamun was a happy boy, but one day he stopped smiling. No one knew why, and no one found a way to help him. Since he didn't smile, a hatred grew inside him. Hate towards reality, towards his  servants and towards his  enemies. Nobody could kill him because he was an expert in defending himself and although he was a tyrant the kingdom was well under his command.

One day when King Samamun went hunting, he wanted to go alone, none of his subjects refuted him and he went out into the woods to look for an attractive prey that had been destroying the chickens' cells. He was so focused on hunting a tiger that he didn't notice when a snake jumped out of a tree and bit him. All the king could see was the vivid colors (red, black, and white) of the snake and the mocking hiss the animal directed at him as it dragged its miserable body away from danger. The king got off his horse and leaned against the trunk of a fir tree feeling how everything around him began a dark verse and how he felt his blood burning in his veins inside his body. 

He wanted to smile because death was coming, but he couldn't, all he could think about was that none of his subjects would know what happened until it was too late...

The rays of the sun that penetrated through the moving branches gave the king the feeling that he was traveling in different directions, as if his head was going to split in half... so he would die that way.

The sound of breaking leaves made the king open his eyes quickly, with the last traces of strength he had left, he weakly raised the sword from his belt even though deep down he knew he was not a real threat...

-Who are you? - He wasn't sure if he had spoken without tangling his tongue but that didn't matter because suddenly, brighter than the sun's rays, the smile of the person in front of him somehow made King Samamun's discomfort bearable.

Such was the power of the smile of the one who came to witness his death that Samamun felt that the corners of his mouth, stiff from never smiling, began to rise...

How was that possible?...

I remained silent because my throat felt dry and I realized that I had aroused the curiosity of all the people who hours before had been working on my body, smearing it with a sticky good-smelling substance.I had been so engrossed in that embellishment for future death that I had begun to tell one of the stories that first came to my mind to distract my awareness that time was still passing towards the path of my execution.

I was wondering what would happen on the wedding night that made the  king want to execute his consorts the next day. It must be something terrifying.

When I was more involved in the story and people stopped working on me I could notice how one of the immaculate stone walls that was to the right of one of the bathtubs also made of stone moved slightly. The stories I read constantly talked about castles with secret passages but I never thought this was one of them.

Some bells rang and the servants, with a resigned face, began to collect everything, telling me that I should go to the harem where I would be the only inhabitant for that night.

-What do the bells mean?- I asked a woman who removed a non-existent speck from the splendid clothes I  was wearing.

-It's the signal to go to sleep. Too bad, I really wanted to know who made King Samamun smile -

Without saying another word, the woman told me to follow her and with one last look at the shifting stone that I had seen minutes before, I dedicated myself to following her to the last bed that I would ever occupy.

Chapter Text

Jakapan

Although I would have wanted to sleep, it was not an option, especially when I was aware that with each passing hour I was getting closer to cruel fate. I kept waiting for something to happen, something important enough to avoid dying under the guillotine of King Wichapas, but only the silence broken by the nocturnal birds, the crickets and the other creatures of the night that surrounded the beautiful room where I was installed, was the only different that I listened to.

But suddenly this was no longer the case. 

I was fully aware that the door to my room was slowly opening and a hooded figure that I did not recognize entered. With fear I sat on the bed and looked, in the midst of the darkness that only the few remnants of the fire in the fireplace let me see, how the slender and hooded figure stayed at the foot of my bed and simply must have observed what he could see of me in the dark.

The room was filled with a scent that reminded me of the soldier who brought me on his horse to this palace. 

Could it be that soldier? and what was he doing here? Maybe the king had decided that he would not wait until the marriage was consummated to get rid of me? 

An unexpected sadness invaded me because I didn't understand why but deep down I had wanted to meet the king before he killed me. I was going to ask the soldier what he was doing here  but before I could ask the question  I was interrupted.

-Who made King Samamun laugh? - was the unexpected question. The tone was charged with concern, at the same time as suspicion, and instead of answering him it only occurred to me to give him another question.

- Were you listening to me before? -

The hooded figure stood very still, and though I strained my eyes to try to see beyond the shadow, I couldn't.

-Yes -

My mind tried to remember if I had seen a figure similar to this in the afternoon of bathing and beautifying and the truth was that I had not. But maybe I was too focused on everything they were doing to me that I didn't notice.

The figure moved off the foot of my bed and sat on the edge of it, completely turned towards me, waiting for an answer.

His  closeness made the intense smell of sandalwood with something else penetrate my nose making me completely forget about the delicious smells of the essences in which I was bathed in the afternoon.

What... had he asked me?

-I asked you who made King Samamun laugh -

Oh no! Had I said that out loud?

Why did I find this situation utterly strange? The soldier had to be like me, a palace servant who had a purpose and it had to be fulfilled.

How was that possible?

“King Samamun's cheeks even ached from the soft smile that was spreading across his face.

Before him stood what surely appeared to be a wood elf. Although it could well be his hallucinations that the snake venom was beginning to produce in his now dying body. King Samamun smiled because in his young life he had not seen someone so beautiful. And no one so smiling. This being was walking among the branches of the trees carrying with him an almost heavenly, brilliant aura. The giggles that came out of the mouth that he could identify in the distance as pink were like music in the king's ears and it was so contagious that that was what was making him want to laugh with that person or being, at least laugh before dying. 

The being knelt down until it was at the same height as King Samamun and without any more laughter or words between them, the being took out a knife that had a beautifully carved handle with a blue stone in the center. Samamun wished he could defend himself because any potential weapon he saw was a threat. The smiling being shouldn't have tried so hard to kill him, he was dying of poisoning.

What he thought would sink into his flesh stuck yes, but into the edge of the black cloak the being was using to cut a part of it, long enough to wrap around a limb, then stuck into the pant leg of the king, of silk cloth and as expensive as the life of any slave.

The being cut through all the cloth within his reach until the muscular leg was exposed. Leaving the strange knife on the grass, the stranger tied the piece of cloth from his cloak to the king's thigh and squeezed until Samamun cried out in pain.

-Shhh - murmured the angelic voice of the being giving him a hint that it was a boy. His whisper seemed to appease something .The smiling being bent down and without making another movement put his warm lips on the wound of the snake and began to suck hard. 

Samamun felt the taste of a cloth in his mouth that opened to scream and when he opened his eyes he realized that the boy had put half a hand in his mouth to stifle the scream.

-If the other snakes find out that you are here, they will come looking for you -

That was another nonsense, but Samamun couldn't reason at that moment because he bit the boy's hand as he leaned back and sucked the poison from his wound…

Samamun's vision began to clear a bit and feeling bad for having done it he stopped clenching his jaw to ease the bite he had on the boy's hand.

From a portable container and again with a beatific smile on his face, the boy crushed some herbs in his mouth and placed them on the wound. The cooling, minty-like effect moved up the king's leg to settle in the center of his chest.

If this was a precious way to die, Samamun didn't know what else could be considered such.

Cannons rang out in the distance, and Samamun recognized the sound of his own royal guard.

He turned to who had surely just saved his life but the person, the boy, was now several feet away looking at him from the trunk of a tree and laughing singsong again.

-Wait... -He raised his hand to try to reach him but the creature vanished when the sound of his royal guard's horses was heard closer.

Who was that boy?

He had to find out... If he saved himself, he was going to find him and ask him what was that strange power that surrounded him that made Samamun want to smile uncontrollably.

The boy....”

I was interrupted when the same bells from before, when I was sent to sleep, resounded from every stone wall of this beautiful room.

The hooded figure looked around and then back at me.

-Who was the boy? - asked the dark voice and I was about to finish answering when another bell interrupted me. I noticed that the hooded figure waved as if he was uncomfortable or angry. He stood up quickly and left without saying goodbye or anything else, so quickly that I doubted very much that he had even walked out the door.

-Wait... -I wanted to say but when I opened my mouth someone knocked gently on the door asking for permission to enter.

She was one of the people who participated in my beautification ritual from the night before and when I opened my mouth to ask her who was the soldier who left my room moments before, she urged me to get up and shower quickly since my presentation before the king would be that morning.

With my heart pounding but in my throat I got up quickly and let her help me with my clothes and the bath in the hot tub.

Would I finally meet King Wichapas?

Chapter Text

King Wichapas

The question kept languishing in my head and no matter how hard I tried to make sense of it, find out if among all the story that the slave told there was a glimpse of the identity of the savior of King Samamun. No matter how hard I tried to disassociate myself, to pretend I wasn't interested, the story, probably fantasy, had me trapped. And the only one who knew the end of this story was the slave whom I would marry the next day and who would die the day after tomorrow. Was there a way for him to finish the story before his head rolled under the execution?

There was another factor that my mind could not clarify and it was the fact that when I heard the slave speak I could not help but compare his beauty with that described in the forest criature in the story, nor see King Samamun with my own face.

Which was stupid.

But one of my weaknesses was that, I never mentioned it to anyone, not even Ta. I was passionate about stories, because in the midst of my cruelty I could unleash my imagination wanting to meet new characters and do something different from the routine that consisted of reigning and killing my consort husbands.

But this felt different. I found this slave fascinating, for lack of a better word. It was not only that his appearance was not typical of a slave but that his language, way of speaking and relating, spoke of long hours of reading and had in him an air of wisdom that was difficult for me to miss.

I shouldn't have done this. The last time I got attached to someone it all ended with a knife almost cutting my throat. But we weren't talking about love. Being curious about someone was not infatuation.

Or was it?

Nor could I call him to my quarters and ask him to finish the story because that would set a bad precedent among the other slaves. When I married him I could have him in my room for as long as I wanted until I forced him to finish telling the story.

Huffing angrily, I called for the servants to run a bath. That day was the official presentation of the new future consort and we would not be able to see each other again until the wedding day.

I let Knight help me dress, I had no patience for a slow valet. He put me in the red suit with gold designs of dragons and lotus flowers. and arranged my hair so that my face was exposed. He filled me with sandalwood essence and I remained still while these protocols were carried out. The essence was to attract good fortune although with what I planned to do in the future it was unlikely that I would achieve good fortune or any kind of redemption.

The drums and bells sounded for the first call to the official meeting. Knight walked in front of me and I followed his steps trying to control my breathing and my heart that wanted to come out of my throat.

Things were getting out of my control and I hated it.

And it was all the slave's fault.

I walked over to the throne and sat in the chair hoping to put on my usual neutral face. I heard the second bell toll announcing the presence of the future consort.

It shouldn't shock me like it did but still I couldn't take my eyes off him. The dark blue color he was dressed in brought out the perfect color of his skin. The black hair had been styled to reveal his forehead and facial features. Although he was a slave, he walked with a demeanor difficult to acquire and looked around him completely stunned by what he saw. His beauty hit me again in the center of the chest, especially when I understood that he was a thousand times more attractive than Naphat himself.

"Who are you?" I kept wondering, my intrepid inwardness as he kept coming closer after taking in everything, his eyes now looking at his clasped hands as he should have been instructed in the hours of preparation.

-Allow me to introduce you to Jakapan Puttha, future consort of the kingdom - announced the voice of one of the women of the court, making a bow that the slave imitated perfectly.

I made a hand gesture that she understood and asked the slave to come closer.

When he was in front of the throne I leaned towards him and put my hand under his chin squeezing hard enough to make him look at me. Although he raised his head his eyelids didn't lift so I had to use my voice to ask him to look at me.

-Look at me -

The eyelids rose slowly and without knowing how I fell prey to his brown gaze. His look was as penetrating as the one he described of the forest creature that saved King Samamun and I couldn't stop imagining him as that being again.

I moved his face from side to side, evaluating and being surprised by the whiteness of his skin and the imprint of a dimple on his right cheek. He had a high nose and a neck long enough to wrap my hands around it.

He was perfect.

But I should know that appearances were deceiving. I couldn't be fooled by his physique (perfectly desirable) and neither by his tongue... capable of wrapping words and wrapping my mind in a delicate cloth of uncertainty.

If the continuation of the story was in the brain of this person in front of me, it would be best to rush to the end.

-We're getting married tonight,- I declared, letting go of his chin. I caught the surprised sound that the rest of the court made but I wasn't interested, I was the king and my word was law.

-But sir... the preparations... -

-A marriage ceremony. Tonight. Do I have to say anything else? -

-No, sir,- said another of the courtiers and turned to start giving orders to the other people who were in this room who were throwing panicked glances in my direction. When I stopped looking at them, I focused my eyes on the slave who was looking at me impassively. He, unlike the other people, was wondering why I proceeded this way.

-And you? You will not say anything? -

The slave lowered his gaze quickly when he realized that I was questioning him.

-You can talk -  I said impatiently.

-What did I do to make you want to hasten my death? -

When he asked that he finally looked at me and I could finally see the fear in his brown eyes.

-You told me a story - I said in a low voice so that the courtiers would not hear us.

I heard the surprised sound that came out of his mouth when in his intelligent head he identified what I meant. That it was I, his king, who had heard the story he was telling the night before.

I withdrew from the room letting the others take charge, thinking that tonight, unlike the other wedding nights I had before, I was not going to rest until I had heard the end of the story.

Jakapan

I stood rigid as the harem servants ran back and forth, putting things on and taking me off.

I was still in shock and was remembering if ,during the night before, I said or did something that would have led to the new display of preparations unfolding before me. Nobody was saying anything to me and I was starting to get impatient until the last woman who put a beautiful blue robe over me told me that I would have an audience. She quickly worked on my complement in ways so beautiful and sublime that when I looked at myself in one of the gilt-framed mirrors, I almost didn't recognize myself.

Mom said I had the face of an angel and I never believed her. Actually, I never believed anyone when they told me how beautiful I was because I considered myself someone very normal. But now that I saw me, maybe, just maybe, I could understand those predicates a little. I felt two kilos heavier than all the jewels they put on me and when it was finally over I was able to look at myself in the mirror again and admire for a few seconds the person who was looking back at me.

I reached the exit of the harem and a path of  royal soldiers was waiting for me. There was a man dressed in an incredibly special headdress who told me that I would have my first audience with the king. Panic climbed through my stomach giving me the feeling of nausea that I hoped was well hidden with the kilos of rice mask that was now on my face.

Why had they advanced it?

I thought it was clear that I would spend at least a week here until I met the king, but now that information and what it meant for the length of my life, made my skin tingle with fear. It was as if death were coming with great strides, irreversibly accelerating against me in an overwhelming way and I wanted to cry. We definitely did not value life until it is in danger. I briefly wondered if the king would be as adept at stories as the soldier from last night and if I would be able to capture his attention, if not with my "beauty" at least with my smooth talk.

The soldiers walked around me in a coordinated manner, without mistake, making me feel somewhat peasant. The smell of the place was evocative despite the sad history behind this beautiful dwelling. The harem path was even framed with precious stones and paintings of the ancient kings. In my life as a peasant, we were never allowed to know what the king looked like. That's why I went blind eyes, trying not to imagine what it would be like, although from the little we ever heard, it was a young king.

Next to me was the one soldier with the most colorful uniform. He was reciting all the rules of behavior and how I should position myself once I was in the presence of the king. According to him, I shouldn't look him in the eye, unless he asked for it. I had to get my hands in a position where I was vulnerable and in plain sight. Do not make any sudden movement that could be considered offensive since I would be finished. I made a huge effort to store all of it. Fortunately, I had a good memory and since I was in the campaign to save my life, all those precious tips were stored in my head waiting to be used to save me.

They let us in and although a terrible curiosity began to creep up my back, I kept my eyes down. But I couldn't stop my eyes from going to the opulence of the place and technically I wasn't disobeying the orders I was given, since I wasn't looking at the king but at the things around me. There were whispers in the room as we walked to the altar where the entire royal court was to meet. The dull beeping in my head made it impossible for me to understand what they were saying but the words "beauty" and "death" slipped into my brain. I could almost feel the gazes of all the courtiers boring into the back of my neck. More than one should have felt sorry for the fate that awaited me. I still had at least a week or two to prevent my death, so I should be thinking of that. 

The soldiers escorting me stopped when we reached the foot of the altar. The murmurs subsided a little, but my anxiety didn't. A woman who identified herself in the harem as Sprite approached me and whispered to me to go up a few steps towards the first part of the throne. Once I was at that level the whispers stopped. I listened, with a veiled look, the footsteps of the king approaching me. In my field of vision there were a pair of feet clad in slippers embroidered with gold and black thread. They were strangely beautiful feet despite being covered in that fine shoe.

Cold, powerful fingers rested on my chin and forced me to lift it off my chest. I persisted with my eyes lowered because I was not given the verbal command to raise them.

-Look at me - the dark and seductive voice finally did the trick and I was able to look up to meet his face. Yes, he was a young king, and an attractive one at that. It seemed hard to believe that this was the cruel character who killed those he married after their wedding night, but it was so. People never got to know each other and I had to know and be clear at that moment that appearances could be deceiving.

The king assessed my features looking at my face from all angles, but I didn't know if he was really looking at my face as I felt the power of his eyes on mine, as if a special connection had been created out of nowhere. A lopsided smile crossed the king's features making me realize how attractive he really was. His sharp features gave an account of his status in this kingdom and I suddenly wanted to make him save me and keep me as his king consort. The king's fingers were still gripping my jaw. It seemed he made a decision and just for a second I wished he hadn't found me attractive or interesting enough to adopt me as his husband.

-We're getting married tonight-

As his words penetrated my train of thought he released my chin and backed away in a flurry of elegant usrsopas. We were getting married that night, not two weeks later as indicated in the protocol. I knew that decision was strange because the people around us began to mutter out loud all kinds of impositions and contradictions.

Everyone said that it was impossible for us to get married so soon because preparations had to be made and all the paraphernalia of more protocols that had to be carried out by royal order induced. But the king simply announced again that it was that night, with a haughty and almost bitter tone that made him seem more like the executioner I had to face and not the attractive monarch that I thought he was minutes before.

Since no one could contradict him, the court finally agreed to do what seemed impossible by all accounts; organize a royal wedding in less than twelve hours. My tongue felt dry and impossible to move. I was simply the chosen slave and I couldn't do anything, I had no say in this new and rapid turn of events. I thought that I would have weeks to adjust to the new situation and that I would have all that time to organize my personal salvation plan. But now the situation was about to develop, perhaps for the next day at this time I would be dead. I was looking towards the throne but in reality I was completely lost in making my brain adapt the action plan in order to save myself.

-And you? You will not say anything? - The lashing voice of the king quickly took me out of my deep lucubration and I looked down again because of the fear that I now felt of that being. -You can speak - Well, even I knew that even if I could speak my opinion or whatever it was, it wouldn't have any relevance.

-What did I do to make you want to hasten my death? - The question escaped my mouth before I could formulate it correctly. I dared to meet his eyes again to try to understand what it was that made the entire pre-execution protocol different for me.

-You told me a story - 

I almost didn't identify what he said but in the end I could understand it, and at the moment I did a rough aspiration headed towards the inside of my lungs making me react suspiciously. I remembered that the only person I turned to in order to tell a story was the harem staff and then that soldier who was the same one who took me on his horse when I left my village.

It couldn't be, the king wouldn't stoop to putting a peasant on his horse, let alone visiting the harem in search of stories. But it was clear that I didn't really know the king and I wasn't going to either. I could not know the reasons that could lead him to disguise himself as a guard of his royal army and personally choose his next consort and on top of all sneak into his own harem, posing as the same soldier to hear one slave speak.

The king did nothing to stop the barrage of conclusions I was coming to, so he simply withdrew without saying goodbye to his court, leaving me standing there with no idea of what had happened.

The woman from the harem ordered me to quickly withdraw to that place where the preparation of the consort would begin. When he mentioned it I thought  she was just talking about clothes, but the moment I walked through the jeweled gates of the compound a real ordeal began. I was taken to the special showers of the favorites where I was inundated with water and flavored salts and where another slave began to rub my skin with a sponge as if she wanted to eliminate from each pore of impurity that my skin had that  I felt pretty clean.

After being left almost raw, like a lobster, I was led into a room that smelled of palm wax and honey and when I saw the boiling cauldrons I didn't really know what it was. I was forced to lie down and told to take a deep breath while a hot mixture was spread over the skin of my arms. Once there, it was covered by long pieces of cloth and before I could open my mouth to ask what that was, the cloth was ripped from me, taking the hair that was in that area of my body.

I bit my lip at the burning and painful sensation, and before I could shed the first tear my other arm fell prey to the same treatment. I was about to run away when I was held back by two more slaves who placed me in a position with outstretched arms and the hot concoction was applied to the skin of my armpits where I thought there was some hair.

The process was the same in that part of my body and my legs and I let myself be made aware that I couldn't refuse, but another rooster crowed when they approached the hair between my legs with that infernal and sticky mixture.

Two more slaves were needed to keep me and while I was screaming for them to leave me alone I was also shaved in that area. Then I was put face down in that embarrassing position and even the skin on that sensitive part of my body, between my buttocks, was shaved. Meanwhile, I feared that they would tear off my testicles as well, but none of that happened. These harem servants seemed well versed in waxing someone's noble parts. Now my skin felt hotter than before. It stung all over and I can't deny that as soon as they released me I cried at the stinging sensation, listening to the fuss of another slave saying that if I cried, my face would look inflamed and makeup couldn't hide it.

Still face down and with my arms and legs aching from all the force I exerted to let go, the woman who seemed to be the leader of the harem approached me with a series of oils that smelled like orange and chocolate and which she began to apply to my skin in a pattern of massages that helped me relax a bit. Her voice was soothing as she continued to apply the oils to me. But at the same time she was giving me detailed information about what would happen that night in the king's chambers.

I was not ignorant in these matters since, although I lived in the country, more times than I would like to admit I went to the city next to my small town, where access to the library was not restricted. There, in a particularly interesting section, were books on male and female sexuality. Yes, I wasn't ignorant, but I wasn't experienced either.

That is why each thing that he told me about what I should serve the king, about the things that the king liked made my deep imagination begin to do its thing imagining us in that position.

The king liked men, that was clear. In my short training I had access to the list of consorts before me, and most if not all of them were men. There was only one place where men could have intercourse with each other that involved penetration.

Would it hurt me?

The skin on my cheeks was the one that warmed when I imagined kissing the king, and I think I said it out loud because the woman stopped from her massage and looked at me with something akin to pity, telling me that was unlikely to happen. Which led me to another question that was closer to reality than my fantasy.

Would I have time to process something before the king decided to call the executioner to kill me?

-King Wichapas used to be good. But one of his consorts infiltrated as a spy to kill him. That's why he decided to classify all his consorts in the same way -

-Has anyone tried to seduce him? - I asked in a very low voice as soon as the question was formulated in my head. It seemed strange to me that the king didn't fall in love again and knew from that that not all people wanted to kill him.

-Oh yes, but no one made it. He saw those intentions before they could even carry them out-

It means that I would not be different. Starting because I didn't know the details of my own seduction skills and second because I doubted that I was someone so sensual. Since the whole harem was painting the king, he wouldn't be fooled by stories that, probably, he would have already heard from the best storytellers in the kingdom. Still the king seemed interested in the story of the nympho and the king. Although it had a tragic ending, I couldn't give the story another direction, because within it there were eight other stories that were triggered by all the reincarnations that the nympho and the king had to go through before they could seal their fates.

Everyone kept whispering that it was a pity that I was going to die, because I was by far the slave who radiated an aura of nobility and goodness. I did not feel noble or kind, especially with hours to go before my final meeting with the Buddha. And yet everything in me told me to let everything take its course without trying to alter it because this was meant to happen.

"Well, Buddha, if this is my destiny, the one you chose for me, I will accept it without hesitation"

Perhaps in the afterlife I was born as a prince and all this suffering would only remain in this circle of karma. I heard in the distance the sound of the bells which, according to what I could identify, was the sound that announced the beginning of the afternoon and the  rituals to eat dinner.

"A special dinner" they all said and I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do at that moment. I didn't want to eat at all. Why should I welcome death with a full stomach? They indicated that after dinner the bonding ceremony would take place where, by protocol, I would become king consort. 

King Jakapan I. 

It sounded overwhelming and almost titled, but surely it would also look titled on my tomb, which according to what they told me was just as ornate and almost honorary as that of those who preceded me.

I was taken to special quarters, after the skin beautification session was over. It was clean, neat and tidy and elegantly decorated. It was the room of a prince. There were different materials furniture that, by how they looked and smelled, were highly expensive. An elegant dressing table with gold and wood carvings looked back at me and on top of the huge bed with maroon and blood colored sheets was a precious trousseau in a strong blue color. It was my favorite color which was ironic, soon that beautiful blue would be stained with my own blood.

"Not if the king undresses you first"

I gave a mental hiss to the part of my brain that made me have that thought. 

The two slaves began to dress me by putting a smock and silk underwear inside it. These clothes had nothing to do with the scratchy woolen fabric with which I used to dress this part of my daily trousseau. And since this was silk and not wool, my skin appreciated it. To be a slave, my skin was too selective and since neither I nor my mother could afford delicate clothes, I just got used to it. The rest of the clothes were put on me. A white shirt of fine cotton with a rather long stole was put on me and the stole was wrapped around my neck. Although it was hot, the fabric was so fine and fragile that it didn't look like  I was wearing anything on it. Later I was stuffed into what looked like denim pants but equally light and semi-loose fitting my calves.

On top of this trousseau I was put on a blue tunic that also reached my calves. On the golden buttons were precious stones that probably cost half of this palace. It was tied to me with a cord whose silk also seemed to be woven with gold, and then they sat me down in front of the dressing table to make up my face.

I knew that it was useless to try not to be so overloaded and, although I feared the worst, the king seemed to have specifically said to make me as natural as possible. So I felt the smell and texture of the kohl lining my eyes on my eyelids. A very thin layer of rice powder and some color on the lips that, when finished, looked redder and somewhat thicker. My hair was curled with a pair of tongs that came directly from one of the fireplaces. By the time I was able to look in the mirror again I almost didn't recognize the creature I had become, again. It was me, but at the same time it wasn't. I missed my past where I didn't have to worry about anything and where saving my life was not a priority. I was suddenly torn between the country personage I was and the king consort persona I would assume tonight.

I was brought as an expensive offering to the part of the castle where King Wichapas lived. The structure was deliciously fine and surprised me wishing I could live there with the king. Which, like the other crazy things I kept coming up with, were stupid thoughts to have. My heart was pounding painfully in my throat and I was tired even though I wasn't walking fast. In fact, the march we were walking was as slow as... as a funeral walk.

I shook my head and the jewelry in my ears tinkled gracefully. The one who was carrying me went ahead of the other members of the royal guard to lift the heavy knocker that I identified as a dragon figure to knock five times, with perfect times. It all seemed so purely measured that I thought this was normal protocol.

Enough.

I tried to calm down. Right now the only thing that could save me was... myself.

Chapter Text

King Wichapas

In front of me was the table.

During the hours that passed since I saw him for the last time, I was, by ritual protocols, prepared for tonight and I couldn't stop thinking about those chocolate eyes that seemed to radiate all that innocence that I wasn't able to see in anyone before him.

Since Naphat I had not felt this anticipation for something to happen. It was like a great pressure on my chest that did not go away no matter how much effort I made concentrating on other activities such as distributing land to the newly married in the villages or signing peace treaties. I could even sense Knight picking up on my uneasiness as the time for the binding ceremony approached. I hadn't been this strange and restless since my disappointment and surely my royal guard captain was wondering what had me like this. If I had wanted to respond to his questioning look, I would have told him that there were two reasons. Two fundamental reasons; The slave and his story.

The slave because since I touched him the first time when I put him on my horse, I felt something change in me, as if that farmer was somehow connected to me in some way which was stupid, but I couldn't stop feeling it. Just for a moment I allowed myself the idea of avoiding his death to start slowly growing in my brain like a fungus. But I couldn't do it. Compassion of that caliber would increase the assassination attempts because they could identify the new consort-to-be as a weapon to get close to me. Or follow any of the attitudes that that boy was having and that was leaving an imprint on me. And his story because I was letting myself be consumed by curiosity and the adage was true when it said that curiosity never led anyone to anything good.

Not even the delicious smell of the wedding banquet food could shake me out of my reverie. I looked slightly towards the door where in a corner of said entrance Knight was staring at me. It didn't bother me, more than once I caught him looking at me with that mixture of paternal feeling and implacability that I learned to associate with him. In fact, Knight was more my father than the king himself before me and he was the only person I trusted. He was the only one who realized Naphat's true intentions and although he warned me I was blinded by love. Therefore, of all the courtiers and members of my kingdom, Knight was the only one I trusted completely. At this moment the paternal sense of his gaze was noticeably surpassing the implacability.

Knight didn't approve of anything I did - speaking of my multiple liaisons and subsequent murders - but, as a subject and as a person who only did what I ordered, he had no claim on me.

I was about to ask him what was staring at me when I heard the five ceremonial knocks on the door. I shifted in the chair I was occupying, at the head of the huge dining room, looking for a position comfortable enough to appear casual. Under no circumstances was I going to let that slave see how nervous I was starting to get.

While the protocol presences entered I had enough time to feel disappointed at myself. At this point in my life I should have been completely immune to all this previous process, but apparently I was wrong. Everything seemed to indicate that there was still a human being in this world capable of altering me and he was entering the room at that moment with the intention of receiving a royal dinner and marrying me. My imagination and memories did do him justice because as he walked towards where he was being told to go, his presence made something inside of me heat up uncontrollably.

He had those wide-open eyes looking around him. But unlike the others, he didn't see himself as someone blinded by luxuries. In fact, even at that distance I could see that the emotion that was dominating him (briefly hidden behind that beauty that I could identify from the first moment I saw him) was fear. When his special eyes fixed their gaze upon me I could notice a shine that I didn't know how to interpret. The difference in attitudes between this new husband-to-be and those who preceded him lay in the fact that he did not seem, even from a distance, to be the least bit interested in flirting with me. Many chose that strategy to try to save their lives, but I was able to read and smell them at this distance. With this slave all I wanted to do was listen to him.

When he was finally in front of me, I gestured for him to sit to my right where he would be rightful after that night and only the minister of the court who would be in charge of supervising this dinner and the bonding ceremony in a few minutes stayed.

An effluvium hit me and I couldn't help but inhale harder than necessary to capture some of that captivating scent. It was a mixture of the special herbs and cocoas of the harem combined with what must be the original smell of this boy. It was, as I thought seconds ago, captivating. In spite of myself, the fire of attraction acquired some heat in my chest, which until that day I considered frozen by betrayal.

The clothes he wore whispered as he sat down with a delicacy and grace I hadn't expected and the minister whispered a series of instructions that Jakapan began to follow to the letter. The ritual of that dinner before the ceremony was that as my husband he had to serve me the table and feed me and I had to do the same. His slender white hands slowly served the food that I pointed out. The salmon and basil salad was the one that won in quantity. I could keep noticing his eyes twinkle every time I mentioned an ingredient, as if he found my selections extremely interesting.

When it was my turn, I waited for his white fingers to select what he wanted to eat. As expected, he selected the same things as me, with the obvious difference that I would never ask for the spices for seasoning. And I wouldn't drink cider wine either, but grape. His plate was soon filled and the minister began to read from the sacred book where he mentioned the steps of the dinner ritual. Although I wasn't very hungry, I forced myself to eat by protocol more than anything else and I noticed that the slave didn't touch his dinner too much either.

When we finished, I stood up and waited for him to come to my side before I walked towards the other room where everything was ready to complete the ritual.

We washed our hands before entering and with the same water each one drew a rune of the kingdom on the other, which, although it would never be fulfilled, augured love and good events for our union and the kingdom.

I sat in the chair that corresponded to me and the slave did it next to me, but on the floor, perfectly imitating the position of the consort and did not move from there while the minister read all the vows and invoked the deity of our kingdom to bless the bond.

Lasted an hour. I could feel the apprehension in my legs, the fear that the slave gave off almost seemed to rub off on me. At last I would have the opportunity to finish his damned story and decapitate him so as never to think about the disturbing sensations that he managed to awaken in me in the few hours that I had known him.

Silence took over the room when the minister withdrew towards the exit where the royal entourage that would take charge of taking Jakapan to his execution the next morning was waiting for him. I could only hear our breathing and the sound of the nocturnal fauna that slithered through the glassless windows and the warm night air.

-So... do you have something to tell me? -I asked out of nothing.

-My lord? - Asked the slave giving me the conviction that he was too lost in his thoughts to face this reality.

-I want the story - I asked, or rather I demanded in an almost grumpy way. It had been too long since I wanted to know the end of the story and because I wanted to know why I suddenly felt related to a king who couldn't smile.

-King Sammamun's? - Well, at least he wanted to make sure. I nodded and waited to see what new concern would come out of his mouth. - Can I...stand up? -

I looked at him for a few seconds and nodded hoping that would do it. When he did, he looked around and then at me with a questioning expression.

-Should I tell the story to you here? -

Since I didn't know how long it would take to get to the end of the story, I pointed to an ornate chair that was near the bed where we were supposed to finish the union, but at that moment I was not thinking of fuck with the slave, but having him talking until his mouth is dry.

When he sat on his chair I sat on the edge of the royal bed and watched him expectantly.

”Since Sammamun returned to the castle for the entire royal court it was evident that something had changed. Rumors about how the king was saved from a snake bite in an almost miraculous way forced everyone to rumor that perhaps the king was protected by some kind of ritual and that he would live many years to exert his tyrannical presence.

The king didn't care about any of that. He had learned to divide his time between the tasks of the kingdom and devising a way to see the person that saved him again. He had clear, in his mind, the route he had to follow to fall in the same place where he found the being and who had the audacity to make him use the muscles of his face to smile. It must be magic and he wasn't going to remain in doubt, so on the next hunt he would go to that part of the forest.

He did so, hunting planned and with tools ready, the king set out on his way to the forest at dawn where the only guide was the lamp that each knight carried. As soon as he crossed the threshold of the forest, he noticed that the atmosphere there was different. That in the midst of his survival instinct and his wound, he hadn't realized that the entire forest seemed to harbor some kind of enchantment that made it…irresistible. Like the eyes of the being that saved him.

He deviated from the path of his army to go to the place where he fell. He knew he was risking the same thing happening to him as before, but he didn't care if that was the only way to call the person.

A glow was distinguished in front of him. It was silver and blue and grew stronger as the king got closer. But when the horse's hooves echoed across the rough terrain of the forest, the glow faded, replaced by a faint white. When he entered the clearing, the king felt as if something had just struck him ferociously in the chest.

The impact of seeing that person, being, or whatever was the same or worse than the first time. The white glow emanated from the clothes that the being was wearing and the moonlight was what made the reflection look so bright. The creature looked at him slowly turning around and smiled again filling Sammamun with the urge to second it.

-I didn't think you would return to the place where you almost died- the stranger spoke with a subdued voice.

-I came for you - Sammamun confessed without embarrassment, noticing how the creature’s eyes shone.

-You are a king. You're not supposed to come looking for me-

-How do you know that? - he asked wondering what gave his true identity away.

-Your blood- said the being pointing to Sammamun's almost healed leg – it tastes like royal blood – was the misterious answer that, in fact, did not answered anything.

-What are you? - Samamun asked, unable to contain his curiosity much longer - why do you live in this forest? Why do you save strangers from being poisoned with such unorthodox means? Why...? -

-So you're one of those whose favorite question is why - the young man laughed hard, shaking his head a little, which made his wavy hair mark his beautiful face even more. - You arelike a child -

Samamun couldn't feel offended, even if he tried, so for now he waited for the creature, human or whatever, to answer his question.

-The forest is my home – he said simply, without giving further explanations and Sammamun's frustration grew.

-You do not have a family? -

-Yes, I have, but they live too far away - he looked up at the sky and the king interpreted that they were dead, so he didn't ask him more about that topic.

-Do you want to play?- asked the being suddenly and Sammamun's dismay did not wait.

- Who is the child now? -

- If you're standing there I can't concentrate on what I was doing, so that's why I suggest playing -

-What kind of game? -

-The one who first reaches the lake that is in that direction will have the right to ask the other for something -

Sammamun considered this for a moment. And he trusted the speed of his horse. This is how he was game on seconds after. And when they were ready the beautiful boy just smiled. Though he swore to himself that he was going to concentrate – and putting aside any concern his troop might have about his sudden disappearance - the king followed the boy’s footsteps into the clearing and got ready to run when the he signaled.

When the race began, Sammamun could not blame anything but himself, because as he approached the mentioned lake, all he could do was see the graceful movements of the creature when running and that his speed could rival that of a tiger. Nor He couldn't even clearly think that this might be a trap to kill him and he didn't even care. The adrenaline from the run was doing wonders for the darkness that lived inside him and kept him from smiling, and suddenly he was in the noble position of laughing as the fragrant, cool night wind hit his face.

The sound of the boy touching the water first caused Sammamun to rein in the horse quite successfully. He himself accepted the rules of the race thinking that his horse was faster than a human, but he was wrong and distracted turning a blind eye to the strangeness of this whole situation. He even thought it was a dream because of how magical everything seemed.

-I didn't know that humans could run like that – he said vaguely as he saw how the white clothes of his savior were now transparent on top of him giving indecent glimpses of his white slender body.

-I knew that humans are competitive - Did that mean he wasn't human?. -No, I didn't say that - answered the boy revealing to Sammamun that he asked that question out loud. - It's just... training -

If half of his soldiers could run like that, Sammamun wouldn't hesitate to take the boy to the palace so he could teach them his technique, whatever it was.

-Well. What is your wish? -

Sammamun didn't want to be disappointed, completely sure that this creature was no different than anyone who wished for something, but he was surprised when he heard the wish.

-Come again? - he asked thinking he heard wrong.

-You have to come here every night to play with me – said his savior with his eyes bright again with emotion – Are you going to do it? -

Since it was what he planned to do, carrying out that wish was not going to cost him much. What it was going to cost him was to stop the slow and relentless fascination that the creature in front of him inspired in his soul.

-And how should I call you?-

The boy seemed to think about it for a second.

-Nim – he said simply. No surnames, no court title. Nothing that would give Sammamun a hint of this person´s identity.

He put a hand over his heart in the universal gesture of giving his kingly word and solemnly swore to come every night Nim wanted. To play.

The first night was easy. He was able to escape from the palace without a royal guard because he did not want anyone to find out about his sneaky encounters with a forest dweller, probably an orphan with nothing to offer a kingdom.

Only smiles for the king.

The next night Nim took him to remote places in the forest that he did not knew where the moonlight made a stark contrast with the fireflies and the glitter of the water. There was so much peace and candor that Sammamun forgot how each hour passed until, at four in the morning, according to the sky he could read, Nim told him he had to go.

Sammamun promised to come back the next night, again suppressing the impulse of happiness that wanted to make him grin. Just a lopsided smile, but it seemed to be enough for Nim to clap his hands in excitement.

-See you - said his savior -Nim- turning around and getting lost in the path they had just traveled.

Sammamun hated to admit it, but since the first night he hated the moment to return to the castle to be king and leave Nim in the forest. That was bad news because the desire to spend more time in the company of this strange person who saved his life meant that he was beginning to feel something for him. Something that he could not identify and that began to grow without remedy within his heart..."

The story was interrupted by the morning bells that heralded sunrise. I was so caught up imagining everything my consort said in my head that I didn't realize that time passed and it was morning and I had to hand Jakapan over to the gallows.

No... you have to know what's going to happen.

It can't end like this.

How many nights would the king visit Nim before he knew what he was really up to?

Anger grew in my chest as the bells continued their tune and the five formal blows were heard on the heavy door that enclosed us. The paleness on the slave's face was so obvious that for a moment I thought he was going to faint. The minister entered with his customary entourage of five palace guards, who lined up to await my customary order.

I could see that the minister looked at us strangely. This was generally not a normal posture to find myself and my new husband on duty in the morning. Fully clothed, eyes heavy from lack of sleep, sitting one on the bed and the other on the ornate chair.

The tears in my consort’s eyes where as bright as surely the water shone in the forest where Sammamun and Nim spent their second night. It was taking me too long to give the order and before I could think about it, my mouth and heart took the desission for me.

-Take him out of here - I growled under my breath and when the soldiers drew their swords to force the slave forward I made a negative gesture that made them sheath them immediately. -To the harem. Bring him back tonight - I finished my order and got up to leave quickly, ignoring the whispers of those who remained in the room and Knight's calculating look when I passed by him in the direction of my personal chambers.

Once there I locked myself in and ran to the water basin to throw the icy liquid on my face. I rested both hands on the dresser where I was sitting and looked towards the sunrise while images of everything I heard went through my head.

Because throughout the story I was King Sammamun and he... the slave... the consort...Jakapan... was Nim.

What was going to happen to them in the story?

A horrible foreboding made my insides clench. Nothing good could come of that story and yet I wanted to get to the end...if I had to.

Throughout my life I heard thousands of stories and more, but none related to this... where did that story come from?

Chapter Text

7

King Jakapan

I followed the soldiers as they escorted me out of the king's room. I turned to look at him but the king who had been listening to me speak all night did not notice me.

For many moments as I followed them, I thought they were going to ignore the king's order and take me to the gallows, but they did not. We took the same direction we did in the evening, and I was dropped off at the ornate gates of the harem where, as far as I understood I would be the only inhabitant at least as far as slaves of the king were concerned.

The whispers from everyone when they saw me pass were so loud that the servants of the harem decided to cover my face with a scarf that smelled of sandalwood too and finally, I heard the doors of a huge room closing behind me. When the scarf was removed, I realized that I was indeed back in the harem, but not in the part where I was the night before. Here there were many more jewels than the other and the furniture was extremely expensive and comfortable and from what I could read in the ancient carved wooden inscription full of rubies this was the part of the harem corresponding to the consort.

I turned with a questioning expression to Sprite. If I was not mistaken with her name who with a supremely calm expression seemed to notice all the questions that were being asked in my head and seemed unwilling to answer any.

– Your Highness, you should rest – was what came out of the courtesan's mouth instead of the string of answers I was waiting for. Before I could refute her (ignoring, of course, that she just called me highness) she bowed deeply and withdrew.

When the door closed behind her I allowed myself to slump on the floor sitting and completely perplexed.

I was still alive.

My head was on my shoulders.

It was the next day, and I still had not stopped breathing.

I had a little anxiety crisis about my future so I tried to take a deep breath trying not to think about whether I would survive this night too.

I remembered very punctually that while telling the story I did it from the point of view of the forest nymph, as if he were me and the king was Sammamun.

Usually, I had a good imagination, but our faces kept appearing in it and I did not really understand why. When I read the way, the characters looked was indifferent to me. The king’s appearance had affected something in me.

King Wichapas was quite attractive if not for his hostility towards his partners. What happened in his past must have been serious enough to predispose him to be a murderer.

I was suddenly very curious because i knew that there was something beyond the fact that he had been betrayed. The passion with which he loved must have consumed him because, otherwise, he would not have prolonged this sad and bloody legacy, in which I was involved without even intending to.

The night before while I was telling the story my eyes had more than once gone to the face and in general the presence of the king. I have never been so affected by someone's presence, and I was not sure it was entirely about the fact that this man had his life in my hands. It was something else.

I did not believe in mysticism, and I was not going to start doing it. I just had to live.

I looked at my hands that trembled slightly and then finally I dedicated myself to looking at the environment where I was now.

My new room.

The frivolous part of my inner self rejoiced a little at such luxury. It was simply spectacular. Full of millenary and delicious essences together with the shape and order of the rooms in general. The structure of this harem was mostly made of wood, but it did not give the impression of being a fragile construction at all. On the contrary, I knew from the wide stone walls I saw when I entered here that this palace was an impregnable fortress from which I could never escape if I tried.

I finally calmed down and my hands stopped shaking. I had been there for an hour, and no one came to tell me that I was going to be executed. I heard the doors opening and Sprite walked in followed by three boys wearing the characteristic clothes of harem servants. They brought with them a series of clothes that they left neatly in a dressing table, also made of wood, which was there.

–If you want a bath, the steam is ready –

I looked at everything in puzzlement and then nodded because I did not know what else to do. I followed her as she said it was the path I would always take to get to the bathrooms.

A surge of steam smelling of essences penetrated my nose when the Turkish bath was in my field of vision. You could hear the water running as if a small waterfall were working and the sound of the water calmed me down a bit. I paid attention to all the instructions Sprite gave me, including the one that I should not dive in without anyone supervising my bath. Since I was not interested in the other slaves seeing me naked (again) it was an instruction that did not seem hard to follow.

Once I only started removing the clothes that were still on me, so I did not need Sprite's help. Once alone started removing the clothes that were still on me, so I did not need Sprite's help.

The steam made my senses cloudy, but I enjoyed the bath in the same way I did when I bathed in the river that came down from the mountain that surrounded our town. Showing off that frivolity again I allowed myself to enjoy a little more of the delicious temperature of the water while using essences and soaps whose smells I had never smelled under any circumstances. I even washed my hair with a thicker substance that smelled like mint chocolate.

Once ready I came out with the water falling around me and wrapped myself in a white puffy fabric that began to absorb the water and made me feel in a small protective cocoon.

I had the disturbing feeling that someone had been watching me all the time, but I realized that it was that I would surely have to have permanent surveillance because of my status as a consort and it was just a kind of paranoia of mine. As if I felt death breathing on the back of my neck for having gotten rid of it the first night.

With special shoes I walked to the exit of the bathroom and Sprite met me there to escort me back to my bedroom.

–Can I walk through this harem? – I asked quietly quite sure of the answer and when she shook her head, I could only wonder what I would do to entertain myself. Remembering my stories would surely do its thing, but not forever. Eventually the king and I would get bored of each other and whatever had to happen would happen.

Even inside my room and putting on what Sprite selected for me the feeling of being watched would not go away. Would it be the spirit of the guillotine that would now imaginatively hang from my neck until the day I died?

Once dressed - a white blouse with long sleeves with cuffs reinforced in leather and black trousers - I looked out the window from where I could see the entire field where the lands of the kingdom extended. There was a huge garden that reminded me of the story I was telling hours ago and my mind went back to the king.

And in fact, it was as if I had conjured him because suddenly my eyes could distinguish his figure walking through the garden in the background with two guards and other people attending to his words.

Even at that distance my heart raced a little because I also remembered vividly even though I was focused, the details of the story, the intensity of his gaze on me. I had no illusions that I had conquered the king’s heart with my presence and my voice alone, but it was as if those two black eyes that he had, those soulless pits that I was allowed to look at all night wanted to pierce all my skin trying to see beyond. It was just my perception but even so I could not help it, especially at that moment when the king looked over the shoulder of his soldier towards where the harem was located. Where I was looking at him.

I suppressed the urge to hide and just stood there. We kept our sights looking at each other in the same way as the first day I arrived here, when I looked into the eyes of the soldier who brought me on his horse realizing after whom he was.

He withdrew his gaze first and went on his way. Some of the clothes he was wearing were shining in the sunlight, and I wanted to go out to receive some of that energy, but, from what Sprite said, I was not allowed to leave the harem. Even so, the harem had many gardens where I knew that the sun would also hit so I went to the door of my room opening it slowly hoping that I would be denied the exit of this room. On the right, standing at the door was a man dressed as a royal guard. When our eyes crossed, he immediately lowered his gaze and bowed in greeting again saying to me highness, a title that filled me with nervousness.

–I would like to take a walk in the harem. Is it allowed? – I asked, printing submission in my voice so that the guard would understand that I did not pose any threat.

–Yes, your highness, this harem is the king's, but you, as his king consort, have the authority to roam the harem as long as you wish, since you are the most senior inhabitant of the place– I was excited because meeting new things was very stimulating for me. And since the day before I had no opportunity to see anything of this place except the slaves and my own face, I delighted my eyes with the number of corridors and areas I was knowing. For some of the timbers embedded in the stone walls the place was not hot at all and there was a lot of movement because the harem was responsible not only for providing the servants of the palace and the king's army, but also some of the courtiers, as I was informed by the guard who followed my steps closely.

It was not the eyes of this guard that I felt during my bath and my subsequent knowledge of my new chambers. It was as if the harem itself had hidden corridors that made it easy for someone to spy. I doubted that King Wichapas had such tendencies. If he wanted to walk through the harem, he could do it through the big door, because we were his.

We were his...

I shook my head and entered the first garden, which, according to the soldier, belonged to my personal use. In another circumstance I would have appreciated the beautiful contrast of colors of the flowers and by taking a deep breath that air cleansed something of my bitter interior. I closed my eyes at the sound of the birds and in general of the little fauna that could grow in a garden of this size.

I walked through the trees until I reached a clearing in the woods. Once there I sat in a wooden armchair that had a series of cushions beautifully embroidered on it.

It was so comfortable and the environment so natural that I could not help but lie back and close my eyes again letting the tiredness of the night take away my consciousness and fall asleep, which I could not do the night before.

Surely, I fell asleep because in the dream I was smelling something that I learned to relate to the night before. For many seconds I thought I was in a dream but what I smelled was so real that I forced myself to open my eyes to realize that I actually fell asleep in the garden of the harem and that inside that harem was the king and that he was watching me from who knows what hours.

I got up quickly and almost fell off my chair and immediately looked down calling myself mentally dumb in many ways. Surely, I was not allowed to sleep there but considering that the night before I spent it awake, it was normal to try to make up for lost sleep. But on the other hand, I did not know the rules of the harem and I did not know... nothing. Because no one, not even me, believed I would survive.

–Your Highness, – I made the corresponding greeting one of the few formal acts I managed to learn in the brief time I had been there. I could almost feel the king's eyes locked into my neck which I left exposed in submission. Even though I stood up again, I kept my eyes down as a sign of respect.

It was another of those times when I wondered if the king could read my thought because without answering my greeting in any way he simply spoke.

–Unless I order you otherwise, you are going to look me in the face. –

My neck creaked as I quickly lifted it up to obey his command.

The beauty of his fine features struck me again, but I strove to hide it. From before he seemed attractive to me but in the light of day it was more so.

–Yes, your highness, – I replied respectfully, and I knew that I was striving because in my instruction I was not lectured on how a king consort should address a supreme king.

–King Wichapas, – he said as if, again, he was reading my mind, causing me to almost get stuck with my own saliva. Even though he had the badge of his position of power he was telling me to call him by his name. My cheeks get hot. It was a nice name.

–King Wichapas, – I uttered with some difficulty, slipping his name between my lips sinfully, –What can I do for you? – I pronounced this question with a little more clarity and confidence.

For a few moments I thought he did not understand me since he did not answer anything. He only looked at me for long seconds but then in an almost feline movement he took steps towards me so that we were too close. I could not help it because I was paralyzed at my post. Of course, my instinct wanted to make me back with great fear, but I restrained myself, because I was sure that even if I tried to create distance between us, the king would not allow it.

The warm smell of his skin and the essences he must have used to bathe penetrated my nose, coupled with the power of his dark and unfathomable gaze that was inspecting my face in a sickly way.

–Who are you? – he whispered to my face, and I just tried to make sense of his question because, as far as I knew, the king knew everything he needed to know about me.

–I... Jakapan – I replied stupidly, and the king raised his hand to my face. I thought he was going to hit me, but he simply brushed with his fingers one of the ties with which that morning a slave had combed my hair, an ornament that had been about to fall off. He put the ornament that was made of opal in front of my eyes, and I automatically raised my hand to receive it, but he withdrew it from my eyes and closed his hand over it to, in return, attack me with another question completely out of context.

Where did the story of King Sammamun come from? –

Instinctively I rushed through my memories to give him an adequate answer, trying to find in them my twelve-year-old self, when I was walking through the forest surrounding the village where I lived.

That day I had come face to face with a homeless man, dressed in what looked like a tattered tiger skin. We stumbled and I, by way of apology, offered him the canteen full of fresh river water that this stranger seemed to desperately need.

When he drank it, he had looked at me with those black eyes that still glittered through his long hair and the boy in me could not help but associate him with some magician of those stories I used to read.

Surely under all that hair must have a great bearing.

"In payment for your kindness, I will tell you a story."

My inner self lit up like a night full of stars. In my childhood the taste for stories bordered on fanaticism and I was always willing to read or listen to a new one to get out of the monotony of my country life. I agreed without caring about anything realizing many days later that I took many risks just to hear a story. After agreeing I sat cross-legged on the floor ready to hear the story and the stranger began to talk about the incredible and tragic story of King Sammamun and the creature of the forest...

–And that is how I learned about that story. – I had been looking at the sky while letting that peaceful memory return to my head that when I turned my eyes to the king, I was surprised to find in them a pleasant gleam of curiosity contrasting with the irritated expression of his face.

–Who was the homeless man? –He asked again and could not help but want to smile more, I held back. Surely smiling in front of the king was a mortal sin. But he could not blame me since the king seemed a particularly irritable child. His look still made me eliminate any impulse of smile that had decided to leave my lips express a grimace apology.

–I do not know, sir. – I said again trying to dig into my memory the details of that strange and productive encounter. – I just remember that despite his wild appearance and his bushy hair the hand that took the canteen had a ring on the little finger. I am sorry – I apologized again before the king decided to rebuke me – is just that I was more interested in his history than how he looked but I remember that the ring had a kind of silver flower as an ornament. – I explained quickly hoping that he would understand me.

The king let out a silly sigh and I thought I heard something like "it can't be" between his teeth. The king while I related my encounter with the stranger had sat on the stool where I fell asleep. When he said these words, he stood up and walked past me with the intention of retreating.

Then before retiring completely, he turned around to look at me one last time.

–See you tonight, – was his cryptic farewell. When I stopped feeling his piercing gaze and aroma, I was able to breathe normally again starting to wonder why I was allowing the king to affect me so much. Was it perhaps because of fear? But could you be attracted to what was your biggest fear? Was it because my life was in his hands? Or the fact that, since the night before I was recapitulating all the fantastic stories I knew and the heroes of these now did not have random faces but my face and that of the king?

I was an idiot. One that, unlike my general realistic and pragmatic self, was allowing emotions to dominate me and that, surely like the characters in the stories, was going to lead me down the road to perdition.

The king seemed unusually interested in the history of forest lovers. It gave the impression, by how he acted and continued to do so, that he felt identified which was silly - for me to believe it, the king did not look like he had a fool's hair.

The bells rang to which it was already beginning to be customary and by the position of the sun in the sky it must be that it was time for a meal.

I returned to the imposing harem building pleasantly remembering what I had for breakfast something like a walnut cake, a delicious dark Thai coffee, and a huge lentil sausage.

My steps towards the kitchens of the harem were interrupted by the soldier who once escorted me and who, mysteriously, disappeared when I fell asleep in the garden. He became my shadow again and led me to my chambers where he told me that I should wash my hands so that I could go to the great dining room. He did not mention anything about lunch but the afternoon snack.

The large dining room was the other part of the building I met there, and I found it as beautiful and mysterious as the whole structure.

I ate feeling like the fear of dying made my well-being for the day begin to fade.

King Wichapas

After reassuring myself that I had broken my self-imposed murder protocol I decided to entertain myself with the affairs of the kingdom which, luckily and my hard work, was always fine.

I met with some courtiers who had beneficial intentions with the lands I gave them and refused to let my head stop being entertained by the storytelling slave who was now my king consort and who had chosen to stroll through the huge garden that connected the main palace with the harem.

He looked so comfortable and in keeping with the place that his ethereal image walking almost floating among the bushes whose color made a beautiful contrast with him seemed to me an adorable distraction. That coupled with my curiosity and concern for the story made me go to meet him when the other meeting with the dignitaries ended.

It was not the first time I met him during this day and apart from the morning goodbye. I should admit that, instead of getting some rest I decided to follow Jakapan’s steps in the harem by the hidden alleys in the castle's walls. I saw him taking a bath, looking around him so in awe that for once I would have like to feel that way. I then retreated realizing what I was allowing myself to do. This was wrong, not only because I could not let fixation consume me and because eventually this king was about to die. I just assured myself that he would not live long enough for his death to affect me and then I returned to the present where I followed his steps in the garden. He was sleeping in the wooden stool with strands of his long hair flying over his forehead from the light touch of the wind. He did not seem dangerous or a threat to me, but in fact he was, because in a single night he was able to unravel all the foundations of my head.

Surely, I would find a way to make him pay. For the moment he would be allowed to live and that whoever suspected or thought something different could do whatever they wanted. No one was going to know the real reason the slave was and would still be alive.

After a strange interlude that I did not understand, I decided to return to the palace and wait for the night, trying to put aside the fact that my chest was slowly filling - like a jar of hot water - with an unhealthy anticipation.

I ordered that my husband's dinner and mine be served again in my chambers. It was the only place that felt private enough for the continuation of the story. I tried again to ignore the growing anticipation and simply waited for the moment when I would see his face again.

The five protocol bells were heard again.

–King Jakapan Puttha, – announced the captain's voice when I gave permission for them to enter.

I followed the progress of Jakapan's approach to the table and his subsequent bow of greeting. I checked, with delight that he did what I told him in the afternoon and raised his head to face me. I noticed, with some anger with myself, that his eyes were shining a little brighter tonight and that his rested appearance made his beauty stand out.

He sat to my right but did not eat as much. Just as the night before he did not seem brave enough to cram some food into his thin body with me watching.

It was his problem, and likewise, he would have piles of food when he returned to the harem. I did not dare to assure him that, if his head contained the stories I wanted to hear, his long neck would not be near a guillotine.

When I finished dinner, I washed my mouth and again, with a wave of my hand, I made him sit on the comfortable stool that was in front of my bed while I sat on the one that was closest to the window. The moonlight created a stark contrast in the lighting of the candles and gas lamps, giving my chambers the appearance necessary for my imagination to start flying...

" Nim was a strange being. It was all Sammamun could conclude—apart from beautiful, ethereal, and the only person he could fully trust to make him laugh. When it came to trust, Sammanun was selective, and only Nim, with his childlike laughter, absurd games, and precious innocence, had broken through the hard breastplate that was the barrier of the king's trust.

But even he knew that all humans kept secrets and, in those moments, when only Nim occupied his thoughts Sammamun began to wonder if Nim was even human.

Why was he wondering about that?

Nim would not allow the king to visit him on full moon nights. Nor did he allow the king to play with him in the water when the moon was in a crescent quarter. Sammamun could never find him on new moon nights. And only when Nim summoned him could he see him.

At first that did not bother him. The king had to juggle his royal activities with his secret relationship.

But one day it all went to hell. Because for quite some time, among the ranks of the courtiers and the neighboring towns, there was a rumor that the king had to marry to cement the power of the kingdom. And who topped the list of candidates was the daughter of King Pang of the kingdom farthest from the west.

Sammamun did not want to talk about it. He did not even want to contemplate the possibility of a marriage and less an arranged one when his own being, without realizing it, chose a life partner who was not the princess of the kingdom of the west.

He had a crazy eagerness to talk to Nim about this situation and listen to the advice he had to give him. Nim did not know the world and his reflections were so far from reality that it was a detail that Sammamun could include in his extensive list of things that made Nim different from the rest of human beings.

He looked at the lunar calendar exposed to him by the astronomer of the kingdom, and to the delight of his heart that was a waning quarter night. The night he could go into the woods and look for Nim.

Getting rid of his guards Sammamun mounted his black horse and galloped as fast as he could towards the forest, towards the point he knew well and where the white figure was circling in on himself looking at the sky with a huge smile painted on his face.

–King Sammamun, – said Nim, with that mocking tone that if it had been used by someone else that person would have already been sent to kill. But Sammamun was clear that Nim found his title, if not pretentious, a reason for mockery. –You're ten minutes late–

Sammamun tied the horse to the trunk of a fir tree and walked until he was in front of Nim, who only needed a glance to understand that something was not right.

–What happened? – he asked with a tone of concern and Sammamun passed by Nim to sit at the root of a tree almost defeated.

–The kingdom wants me to marry–The silence that followed this confession was almost deafening, seconded by the sound of the fauna of the forest that seemed unfazed by the problems of a mere mortal like the king.

–And the king wishes to marry? –

Sammamun looked at Nim and when he detailed him as he always did, he noticed that the brightness that characterized him seconds before had diminished a little.

–No, I do not want to get married. Never, – he admitted. –Not with that princess–

–We all have a duty. A role we were born no perform. We were created because of it. And things…just cannot change–

–And what use does it have for me to be king if I cannot change a situation I do not want to be involved into–

Nim walked towards the king and sat next to him imitating his position but cross-legged.

–Duty and responsibility. Those are heavy words. As heavy as a thunderstorm–

–I just want to my kingdom to be successful. I can do it on my own. I do not want to worry about shallow things such as an arranged marriage–

– And what if the princess is someone beautiful? Someone king Sammamun will love unconditionally?

At the softness with which Nim uttered that statement, Sammamun stared at him.

–No. Never. I do not love anyone else – Nim wrinkled his delicate brow without understanding what Sammamun meant. –I cannot love anyone else because if I love someone else that is going to stop me from going back to this forest. I will have to take care of that person and that will not leave me time to see you. It will not let me smile because it is something I do not want. It will not make me a better king and... it would not save my life the way the forest did–

A burst of laughter escaped Nim's mouth.

–I did not know that kings could fall in love with forests, – Nim replied innocently.

Sammamun hardened his expression and simply said the first thing that came to mind.

–I am not in love with the forest. But of the creature that dwells in it–

Nim turned and without any blush or expression line looked at Sammamun intensely.

–Does that mean that if Nim accepts, would the king marry him? –

The one who felt himself blushing slightly was King Sammamun. He had not wanted to get to that point so quickly, but Nim seemed to get along better with his inner self than Sammamun himself did.

–You belong to the forest. You could never go to the palace – Sammamun confessed his worst fear and Nim now without any brightness at all seemed to be thinking of a method of action.

–I do belong to the forest. But I cannot contemplate myself without receiving visits from the king, – he said conscientiously, as if solving a mathematical operation instead of making the king's heart begin to race. –I can be the king's partner, but I must go back to the forest twice a month. –

The reason remained unknown to Sammamun. For many days while encountering Nim, Sammamun wondered what it was that bound him to the forest. It was a magical connection except Sammamun did not believe in magic, not even knowing someone as weird as Nim.

–If you come to the castle with me, the forest will remain your home, – Sammamun promised putting a hand to his heart.

Nim sighed heavily and looked up at the sky with such intensity as if he were somehow sending a message to it.

Then with a smile that seemed more like sadness than joy he stood up and began to dance and chirp around the king and the trunk of the tree singing a song that said he was leaving with the king.

Sammamun watched him for long minutes feeling relief and joy completely flooding him.

It did not take long for the king to arrange the wedding. No one could stand in the way of the king's decision because, contrary to what the courtiers believed he could continue to increase his power without the need for a strategic union. He invented the story that Nim came from a kingdom too far away as an excuse for anyone to question his strange origin. Nim watched the palace with big eyes. He had not accepted any of the fine clothes that Sammamun gave him for the engagement. Nim still wore those white coats that contained a pearly sheen that made them look as thin as any garment that the king thought of giving him. And before the marriage Sammamun was finally able to kiss Nim. Nim had stared at him wide-eyed as if thinking about how to react, and with the enthusiasm of someone who has never had contact with anyone else responded fervently to the kiss by implying to Sammamun, once again, that they were made for each other.

Later they would look at how to have children. They could always adopt a little prince and be happy ever after. It did not matter at the time. The only thing Sammamun was interested in was tying Nim to his side so he could never leave.

Their big wedding was celebrated in style, but the courtiers kept saying that Nim was someone weird.

Nim was weird but it was that weirdness that made Sammamun fall in love with him. Sammamun finally could admit he was in love witch Nim. It makes no sense to still denying it and less after the things they did together once alone in the chambers. It was so beautiful and pure that Sammamun just was convinced of one thing. Nim was his life mate and none of that was going to change.

Over the years a routine was created for Nim's need to go to the forest. It had not increased but Sammamun knew it was as if Nim was coming back revitalized.

Everything was perfect until a rumor began to spread throughout the kingdom, especially in the palace.

Greed was a familiar concept for Sammamun, not in vain was he a king. And when the rumor that a silver deer had begun to graze around the palace, he could only think about how beautiful a silver antler would look among the trophies in his collection.

That night, in Nim's arms, he told him about his plan to hunt the silver deer. Nim had turned pale and begged him not to. He said that it was surely a sacred creature and that Sammamun should not get into trouble with the guardians of the forest.

Sammamun should have listened to Nim. That was something that would be questioned much later but at that moment, not even his husband's big-eyed and innocent look did anything to dissuade him.

Momentarily forgetting the cycle of the moon that Nim was to follow to visit the forest, Sammamun set out that afternoon, with a full unit of cavalry to hunt the silver deer...."

Jakapan opened his mouth to continue speaking, but the chimes of the early morning interrupted the continuation of the story again.

The characteristic sound of the royal guard making their presence known on the other side of the thick door of the king's room was all we needed for the narration to be interrupted.

–Finish– I grunted before the five taps were given again.

–I, – Jakapan said with a break, but I knew that with the pressure of the royal guard all his concentration was gone.

I gave the order for them to come in and looked sharply at my husband. Again, everything remained in a suspense of doubt where curiosity continued to grow inside me like an especially powerful mushroom. And more now knowing where such a strange story had come from.

–Take him away, – I tacitly ordered, and Jakapan stood up with a trembling expression again.

–My Lord? – replied to the captain of the soldiers with a questioning look. I was going to have to keep clarifying it as long as I kept allowing my consort to live.

–To the harem. Bring him tonight–

I dismissed his presence as soon as I said that feeling again a stroke of intrigue win over my desire to kill my husband, as was the custom. Jakapan's eyes were staring at me, and I did not understand how I could know.

I had many theories about how this story was going to end. But hearing it from Jakapan's mouth, I had to admit, was far more pleasurable than speculating it in my head.

I ran to the mirror that was on the dresser and stamped my fist on it causing it to crack and my image to be distorted. I smiled sadistically at the thought that, by the omens of fate, it might be casting a curse on me by reflecting me in a broken mirror. But that is how I had my inside, fragmented.

Only one soothing story was doing something to repair a thing that could not be repaired.

Chapter Text

8

King Jakapan

I counted the steps back again. This day the murmurs were replaced by open insinuations of who I was and what I did with the king.  When I entered the harem the other officials of it made me a bow of respect that I responded feeling my back somewhat tense. I did not feel in a position to receive obeisances and signs of respect because, truth to be told, I was not worthy. I hadn't done anything memorable enough except tell the king a story, to which he seemed quite attached. Beyond that, the fact that they saw me as a figure to admire upset me a little. But surely and considering the customs of this place, the fact that he hI been alive for three days after marriage could be considered an achievement.

Hearing my name with the word king preceding it was also not something I would like to get used to. After all my origin was humble and I did not feel superior to any harem official. That day's routine was repeated like clockwork. The Thai bath, the delicious food and my willingness to be left alone knowing the nooks and crannies of the place I occupied. The only thing different was that I asked Sprite if the king did not have bed slaves and she looked at me questioningly and somewhat uneasily. 

From what I knew of harems there was always someone superior (me, for my now royal position) and there were first concubine husbands and stuff. But Sprite told me that, in terms of being the king's partner, the only one who was available was me. King Wichapas was unwilling to have too many slaves even before the bloody tradition. That meant he hadn't shared a bed with anyone since I got here. Maybe that's why I didn't cross paths with someone jealous to claim me for the king's attention: because there was no one else. 

A strange shudder ran through me without helping it. Actually, part of my head kept coming back to the imagination, where I found King Wichapas attractive and wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. 

I had preferred to omit the part where the story story became quite passionate. And Samamun loved Nim very much, but he also loved his body, in many ways. The stranger never told me openly, after all I was a child, but only when I grew up did I understand some metaphors and references innocent enough for a child, regarding the intimacy that those two fictional beings shared during their short time together. 

How would it feel to share such a love, despite how things ended? I doubted that I would ever know anything similar, not only because of the life I was currently living, but because I doubted very much that, in case of surviving, someone would love me after having belonged to the king. Perhaps if by some miracle of Buddha I returned home I would go into the forest and live like Nim, being a nomad.

Thinking about home, I remembered my mom and grandma and wondered if they were okay. Sprite said they surely received a lot of baht for me. I knew that they would have tried to refuse, but Sprite said that even if they had done that it would be useless. The money would go into the Puttha family coffers, whether they wanted to or not. That comforted me in those moments because I knew that no needs were going on in my absence. 

Once I had done all my morning activities, I explored the harem further until I found the kitchens. Mom would have warned me not to cross that threshold by now. We both knew why; me and the kitchen were not compatible.

I was always curious about the cooking processes of the delicious dishes she prepared. Mom tried to teach me many times, however, on one of those occasions when I almost set fire to our simple house on the prairie we both decided that me and that word were not compatible. But seeing the orderly and elegant process in this kitchen, I watched in rapture wanting to intervene in some way.

But I had to know that it was not my thing and never would be because, when a slave was teaching me to boil putties, somehow, my wrist came into contact with the handle of a pot of boiling water causing me to burn my wrist.  The young slave girl fell to her knees when I groaned in pain and began to tell me to spare her life even though I was only thinking about the burning of my wrist. Hearing the scandal that the girl's crying was producing Sprite approached and looked at the mess immediately looking at the way I was blowing my hand. 

–P'Sprite,– I said in a pitiful voice, pointing at the girl so that she would try to reassure her if she could. 

The leader of the harem employees approached the girl and asked her to stand up, indicating that nothing was going to happen to her. Sprite mumbled something as she consoled her and a young slave, with his head down, approached me indicating with his trembling hands that he wanted to take my wrist. 

I separated it from my chest and showed it to him feeling the burning of the burnt skin. A superficial burn had been made in a circular shape and the slave, somehow, led me out of the kitchen to some room in the harem. He made me sit on an armchair that swallowed me whole, due to the softness of the cushions and he approached me minutes later with a ceramic pot that immediately brought me the smell of eucalyptus, mint and aloe vera, typical of a liniment against burns. 

With delicate hands this slave who, due to his texture, could be as much fifteen as ten years old, applied the liniment on my wound, giving me the sensation of freshness that mint provided. He looked at me with some kind of devotion that, rather than causing me discomfort, it was funny. Looking into his eyes I felt like I knew him from before and I stopped him from leaving the moment he finished healing me. 

–What's your name? – I asked him and he looked at me as if, indeed, I came from the stars or, in fact, had asked him something absolutely improper. Or maybe he just wasn't used to being asked what his name was. He bowed respectfully again, saying in an almost inaudible voice that his name was Sameo and he was the son of one of the cooks.

–Thank you for your help, Sameo.– Out of nowhere the young man smiled sideways and withdrew bowing leaving me alone in the leafy room. 

I looked at my hand with the white and immaculate fabric covering it and it made me want to cry, because I remembered my home again and all the similar episodes in the kitchen stove of our humble house. How I put the ingredients that were no meant  to boil and Mom gave me a curmudgeon telling me that definitely me and a kitchen did not fit in the same place. Mother and grandmother were the ones I missed the most and, before I could shut it up because I wasn't sure if any sound could be emitted in the place where I was, a drowned sob escaped from my mouth. In that place I did not consider it as a sign of weakness, but I considered myself as someone too attached to his home. Even so, I had to remember that here, in this place, this type of emotion was not allowed. 

My body and the hairs that fell down my neck and back warned me again that someone was looking at me. It was a feeling I felt before and it wouldn't go away. It was a presence similar to that of King Wichapas, but at the same time it was not. And it was hard for me to understand how it was possible that I could differentiate them. I did not give it much thought. I had him so present in my thoughts that perhaps I began to conjure his presence in the most unexpected moments. Like now, when I should only think about home and that, even though Sprite told me not to think about my home with a desire to return. 

I took a deep breath and stood up. If the kitchen wasn't a suitable destination for me, maybe the rest of the beautiful gardens were. 

Although I felt my heart redoubling its strength at the prospect of meeting the king, I entered the garden and the combination of smells that assaulted me made me intoxicated with nature. The greenery, the plants, this whole place was supposed to be paradise on earth and all that environment helped me relax a bit. 

As I walked in the labyrinthine garden I could feel footsteps behind me. This time I was completely sure that it was King Wichapas. This time I appealed not to my palpitations but to my senses. In the two nights I had been sharing my time with him I learned to identify, quite accurately, the distinctive scent of the king. Something mentholated with shades of cocoa that, inevitably, reminded me of something I liked a lot. Would the essences of those elements be those with which he bathed?

I wasn't supposed to ask myself that. I was not to find the king attractive. But oddly enough, smelling him near me brought me a sense of relief that I couldn't explain. The feeling of missing my home became somewhat lighter. It was as if my insides were beginning to accept King Wichapas and everything around him as my new home. 

I walked changing direction many times, in an attempt to get the king to exercise as much as I did. I did not know what his royal functions were, apart from the basics, nor whether walking through the huge gardens were such an activity. I wished this recreational activity would be for him too. If being a source of entertainment for the king was the key to my salvation and a step towards getting closer to my family again, so be it. 

I kept walking erratically and at times I felt like a kind of prey. The bizarre thing was that, although I intuited who it was, I did not perceive any kind of danger but an open anticipation and restlessness for whatever led that person to pursue me as he did. Finally I stopped on the trunk of a fir tree and stood in front of it looking at its large, green branches. 

–Good afternoon, King Wichapas,– I said without looking in his direction. The king's footsteps were being slightly cushioned by the perfectly trimmed grass surrounding the spruce moving off the cobblestone path. 

–How do you know it's me?– – I heard his voice some distance from me. I turned and made the wai of greeting watching him intensely as he took the steps to stand in front of me.  I decided to be honest. With King Wichapas I felt that if I lied or said something that he did not want to hear, the injured party would be me. 

–It's your scent – I said without really thinking, –like mint leaves with cocoa.–

The king looked at me so impassively when I said that, but at the short distance we were standing I could sense that he was tense. 

–So my scent betrays me,– was the cryptic comment. 

–It's an uncommon essence. But I learned to recognize it from...– I stopped when I noticed the words that were going to come out of my mouth. 

–Since...?– said the king in a voice that seemed suggestive to me. Again I set out to be as honest as possible. 

–The nights. When I'm telling you the story. The air becomes humid and warm. Your rooms smell like that. They don't smell that way when I walk in, so I assumed the scent came from you- I said all this quickly, begging that he would understand me and not make me repeat such a shameless confession. In fact, I probably put on a face because it used to happen when I talked about the things that... I liked. I had to admit that the scent of the king fit perfectly well with all the almost magical atmosphere that developed in his rooms when I told him the story. 

Again the king came nearer to me than considerable. I figured he could afford it since we were bound by religious rites. That is why I could not step back as in another circumstance I would have done. Because having him near me did curious things to my chest. Like a desire to laugh, but at the same time to run away. 

–You also have a characteristic scent – he said senselessly, but I was already trapped by those dark eyes, which shone like onyx. Me? Characteristic scent? Was that pleasing to him or not? And why did I have to ask myself that? Would my scent, of all things, be my saving agent? Dear Buddha, again my head was doing overthinking. –How can someone like you smell like that?–

Someone like me? That's what he meant? Did he look down on me because of my humble background? I tried not to be offended by it. As if reading my thought he kept talking, pulling me out of my recent discomfort. 

– As if there was magic in you–

Magic.

The word was not strange to me. Many of the stories I knew had a lot of it, but for the king to mention it was, otherwise, quite strange. An unknown warmth settled on my cheeks at the fixity of his gaze and also because the meaning of this conversation I did not understand.

–Don't you want me to keep telling you the story? – I asked abruptly without knowing what to really say.  The king also seemed out of place considering the times in the day that were dedicated to this task of telling him stories. 

–Why? Is it so unpleasant to do it at night and in my rooms? –

Do what? I wondered stupidly but when I understood the meaning of his words I quickly shook my head feeling like I put the rope around my neck with the stupidity that came out of my mouth.

–Not at all,– I said quickly, bowing in apology, –it's just that Your Highness seems quite interested in…– 

–Knight!– King Wichapas abruptly interrupted my babbling with that call. Seconds later the royal knight who went with the king to bring me from the village, made himself present as quietly as a tiger. He gave me a bow of greeting that I answered without much ceremony, or grace (because I didn't know how to do it yet). Then he turned to the king with a more aggressive greeting than I did. He remained very rigid waiting for the king's orders. 

–Cancel all my afternoon duties. Today I will spend time with... my husband– he looked me up and down but somehow I did not feel minimized or bad. In fact, what I felt was a deep unease that he was doing this. I noticed that the face of the one he called Knight looked at me with something similar to strangeness.

–My lord?– he asked and King Wichapas did nothing to imply that he heard him.

–You heard me,– he said darkly, without raising his voice.  Knight bowed and retreated. 

–What happened to your hand?– the king asked again abruptly when we were alone and for those seconds only the sound of the cheerful swallows that lurked around.

Somewhat embarrassed, I looked down and confessed the clumsiness and actions that led me to have my hand burned. I heard a snort and when I looked up I saw that the king had a mocking grimace on his aristocratic features. For a second I thought that indeed he wanted to laugh. But it didn't happen. The king suppressed any expression of joy and simply passed by me to sit on the comfortable bench that matched so well with the huge garden. I sat slowly beside him, though I wasn't really close because the bench was so long and big  enough for us to keep our distance. He looked at me with an expectation that bordered on the sickly and I wondered if I was really doing well in telling this story to the king with the aim of prolonging a life that would eventually end. I took a deep breath and let the excitement take over me, once again. 

"Samamun wondered how Nim, in the past, could guide himself through that forest entering the night and with the thickness that characterized it. He decided to take his husband away from his thoughts, as he had to concentrate his head and instincts on the hunt. 

Magical creatures  were strange in the kingdom and it was known that whoever captured and killed one would have a prosperous life full of abundance. Attached to that would generate an especially powerful reputation among the other realms. King Samamun was aware that if he was the one who discharged the creature it would bring benefits for him and his kingdom.

Including Nim.

In the depths of his heart something kept telling him not to do it, but the desire to have the treasure and what this implied and why not admit it a caress to his ego was more powerful. Night was finishing falling and the forest looked like it was really alive. Night birds and cicadas chirped merrily as the wind delicately messed up the king's hair. 

He gave an order to his knights, who would be of help and escort in the hunt. They had to be divided in order to create a fence so that the creature would not escape. They were all restless and Samamun knew why. The atmosphere was different. Samamun perceived it as the environment that enveloped him the day he almost died from the bite of the snake, when he met his beloved Nim. 

Nim...

Even though he wanted to be fully focused on the hunt, Nim's name was still throbbing in his head and he forced himself once again to move him away from there.

A silver glint crossed the corner of the king's eye and he directed his horse quickly and expertly towards it. The silver wake the creature or whatever was leaving made Samamun feel like he was driving his horse down a silver stream. He was close, but the creature, from the little he saw, was small and also agile. It ran through the trees as if it knew very well the terrain it was stepping on. 

An arrow passed near Samamun's head and dug into the stem of a tree. The other knights had joined his chase. Samamun shouted at them again to separate to corner the creature and when he turned the horse around the silver deer passed by him quickly, momentarily dazzling him with its brilliance. The horse reared and it took Samamun a few minutes to master it. The men made the characteristic noises to make known the respective location of each to guide the king's path in the forest.

Samamun, frustrated and upset, returned to the road, feeling that the creature was playing with him. 

Just as Nim liked to play pranks on him. 

In a clearing one of the men shouted that he had almost managed to hurt the creature and that inexplicably the silver deer was heading down the forest road that led to the castle to the garden that connected with the forest. 

Perfect, Samamun thought. It would be much easier to corral the creature by the walls of grass that surrounded the garden that made it look like a huge natural labyrinth.

He whipped his horse to go in that direction and, sooner rather than later, he began to hear, above the roar of his horse, the fastest and most frightening footsteps of the deer.   It seemed like the only magic he possessed was being a silver creature. They crossed the threshold at the end of the forest and the beginning of the garden. 

He foresaw it. The creature would enter the garden and in some of the nooks or crannies of the perfectly trimmed corners it was dark enough for Samamun to gaze at the deer, without interference from the tall trees of the forest. He could see the creature in all its glory. 

The creature seemed to double in speed, but Samamun had the upper hand. The glitter could not be hidden, and the garden maze was ending to make way for the central fountain. The deer kept running towards the castle and when it finally came out of the maze and crossed over to the central fountain to take the road, it gave Samamun a perfect view of all his weak spots. The creature ran in a straight line giving the king the perfect shot. He lifted his crossbow, releasing the reins of the horse and maintaining the perfect balance and fired the first arrow. 

The apothecary of the castle was in charge of daubing the tip of the arrows he was carrying that day with an essence that inhibited the powers of magical creatures. The first arrow plunged into one of the nimble flanks causing the creature to lose its balance and fall conspicuously beside the main water fountain. The creature moved spasmodically trying to stand up and keep going towards the castle, but its entire flank was paralyzed by the poisonous essence of the arrow. 

The black, bright and wet eyes looked terrified at Samamun when he finally stopped the horse in front of the fountain and got off the rump taking the last steps he had left to be in front of the silver deer. It was as if the creature was begging him not to kill it. But Samamun's purpose was clear. He lifted the crossbow and the glint of the arrowhead paled to the creature's silver glow. 

The arrow stuck between the deer's left ribs, where his heart surely was. The deer shed a thick silver tear and the glow it began to give off was more intense than what Samamun  perceived when he was chasing it. As if the glow was peeling off the body. It was such that it completely illuminated the garden of the fountain, and even the forest, blinding the king and the knights who were just approaching. 

When they could use their eyes again, the moment the glow faded Samamun and the soldiers looked towards the fountain realizing that there was no silver deer anymore. In its place was King Nim's naked body. 

With the arrow stuck in the heart and another in the leg. The hand that saved Samamun in the past was holding the arrow that was deadly, grasping it like he wanted to rip it off, but unable to do so. 

Samamun threw the crossbow aside, shouting Nim's name as his mind tried to understand what was going on. He took off his hunting cloak and put it on top of Nim's naked body with care not to remove any of the painful arrows. He ordered his soldiers to retreat, but they could not take more than two steps before being completely paralyzed by a supernatural force. Samamun kept calling out Nim's name. He was still breathing, but it was evident to the king that Nim was only giving the last throes before death. 

–Don't leave me,– he whispered with his voice already completely cut off from having shouted. He tried to touch Nim's hand holding the arrow to his chest. 

–I... told you... not to... hunt it..–Nim said, coughing drowningly. 

–How... how could I know? –Samamun felt something hot sliding down his cheeks doing something he never did. Cry. –Forgive me... please...don't die...– He bent over the prostrate figure of Nim, trying to protect his ashen face from the rain that was beginning to unleash.

–I'm... so … sorry...– Nim kept saying and for Samamun that apology was completely inappropriate. Until it came to him that maybe Nim was apologizing for not telling him about his true identity. Samamun should have known that Nim's beautiful abnormalities should have raised him to a higher level than a human, but he never seriously thought about it. 

–I'm sorry...– Nim said again with his last breath and his eyes were lifeless seconds later. 

Samamun's soul finally broke at the same time the sky shook before being unloaded by a violent storm. Samamun could hear the cries of the knights who were paralyzed, as if the rain was burning them.   Just as Samamun always did, he ended up destroying the only good thing he had in his life. 

It was a curse. 

–¡¿How could you do it? ¿How dare you?! – shouted a dark voice that came from the sky and rumbled in Samamun's ears.   The king was clinging to Nim's body because the force of the storm seemed to want to take him with it. But, just as Nim could not hold on to life, Samamun could not hold on to his body for long either. 

Samamun was pushed aside as he watched in fascination and horror as Nim's body transformed into a silver beam of light and headed at impossible speed toward the stormy sky.

Seconds later an invisible hand, in fact, an invisible force clung to Samamun's neck and pulled him upwards making him short of breath. He opened his eyes with difficulty and what he saw in front of him terrified him. It was a form, but it didn't have a specific shape, it seemed to be made up of water and lightning, just like the storm. But his eyes, white and terrible, looked at him with murderous instinct. He had no idea who or what that was. But from the anger he exhibited at Samamun's actions, he could tell that he was someone close to Nim. 

He wanted to apologize, but he knew that what he did had no justification whatsoever except his lust for power. If he died at that moment, under the wrath of that deity Samamun would perfectly understand it as taking one life for another. 

–It's not going to be that easy,– the deity bellowed, implying that he perfectly saw Samamun's resignation to death. The King felt something impact him all over his body, but especially in the area of his heart. When he looked down, he realized that an arrow made of water was stuck there, but it hurt just as if it had been a metal one.

He could no longer hear what the voice said, but the vicioussness with he seemed to pronounce them were surely cursing the king.

Samamun shouted  because he felt as if his soul was being torn out which he thought he did not possess and when it was all over he was prostrate in the middle of the garden, almost dead and wondering what had just happened.  He was filled with horror as he scanned with his eyes the expanse of what was once a beautiful and perfectly manicured garden was now filled with black trees and branches on the exact sites where his knight soldiers had been before. 

What had just happened?

Where was everyone? 

Looking towards the palace he also saw that it was full of black branches, which came out of the windows of the large and small towers. The only white branch was the one that came out of the window of Nim's rooms. He stood up willing to go there, but something like a tug of his brain stopped him in his tracks and forced him to hold his head to alleviate the pain. 

He wanted to keep remembering.... him.

That important person who...

–For heaven's sake!– he shouted, taking his head and heart again, which hurt in unison. He was beginning to forget something and his body, or whatever was left of it, was resisting without success.”

“Samamun didn't know that he had just received a curse in the form of a condemnation for his actions," I said, looking at nothing. "He condemned his fate and was cursed to find Nim in different lives, before remembering who he was.

“Nim was an elemental. A creature from the forest had magic in his veins, inherited from his father, the king of the nymphs. That god knew that his son would have pleaded for a less severe and less painful punishment for the person he loved, but in the midst of his anger at the cruel death to which Nim was subjected the deity cast the curse that had no way of being reversed. Samamun was doomed to suffer the death of someone he loved seven times.

Samamun grew old miserably. Because, without Nim's presence in his soul, he lost everything. That is why, when his death came, he was reborn in someone who did not remember his past life and who was about to find the main object of his curse." 

A chill ran through me and I forced myself to stop and return to reality where I was a storyteller. I couldn't remember being so moved when the stranger told me that and the other stories.  I realized that the evening was coming closer and the environment was getting a little more cool for the clothes I was wearing. I looked at the king, but this time he wasn't looking at me. Like me, he was staring into nowhere and had a pale face. 

–How many times he will find Nim?–

–Seven times,– I said quietly, not too sure. –The stranger said he had found his Destiny six times, but the curse said seven– 

–And you're going to tell me the other stories about them?–

I remembered in my head the number of stories I knew and asked myself briefly why precisely I chose that one.  I turned my gaze to the king, who now looked at me as intensely and darkly as ever causing my insides to tighten uncomfortably. Because I was so immersed in the story that I forgot that the guillotine that had my name was dominated by him. The other stories may not have been in the king's interest. He could well tell me to tell him the end (which I didn't know either because when the stranger told me the story, when he was about to tell me the end, he had taken the ring on his little finger, as if it burned him, and got up to leave, without me being able to stop him). 

But contrary to what I thought, the king stood up and leaving simply said that we would see each other again and I relieved could only interpret that I would not lose my head, or however they executed the people here.

At least not tonight...

Chapter Text

King Wichapas 

“I haven't had dreams like this since I was a kid. And by that I meant such vivid daydreams. 

In the dream I was not king. I was just a private serving a sinister master who liked genocides. Being only a soldier with no tittle, I had no choice but to follow his commands. But in my conscience, I was quite aware of the gaze of those I killed. Its shadows haunted me and at night when no one was awake. I wept in silence for the cruel acts that my position forced me to carry out.

In this dream, the soldier self-entered a house, sword in hand, listening to the cries of the inhabitants in one of the rooms. They were all hiding, and my orders were simple: kill them all. No one could be left alive from that town. We had to wipe out all the inhabitants.

I refused any feeling and tried to blank my mind. Kicking the door hard with weak hinges, I went in and began to murder them. The family, all adults, were gathered around something in the corner of the room and everyone was screaming, trying to protect it.

It didn't take me long to get rid of them all and only when I killed the penultimate one, did I realize what they were trying to protect.

On top of a small bed, hunched to make himself smaller, there was a young man. I couldn't discern who he was or how old he was. He just looked at me with eyes wide open, expressive like I never saw. That person was afraid, as surely all the people who met death had. The look that many of my victims had and were those that would remain engraved in my mind (that of the soldier) for what remained of my life.

It was a look that suddenly made my insides shudder with regrets. I raised my sword ready to kill who I was missing from that house. But I stopped my paralyzed hand in the air because, no matter how much my orders were given, no matter how much I was a private, my arm couldn't move. I never got carried away with compassion. It was useless and even offensive. As a soldier I knew that I would also die because whoever would take my life could not help it either.

I assumed that momentarily I still retained humanity because I finally lowered my sword and looked at the teenager for the last time before telling him to leave or else, I would kill him.

"I can't leave," the boy murmured and when I told him again that I or one of my companions would kill him, I realized that he had a leg wrapped in many blankets, probably a symbol that he was injured. "Don't kill me," was the second sentence.

The tip of my sword shone with the light of the candle that was still burning. As bright as the boy's eyes shone that, the moment I lowered the sword, they were tinged with an abnormal happiness and a sly smile was drawn on his angelic face. I thought I had fallen into a trap, and I was ready to attack whoever was willing to kill me when the boy spoke again.

"It's true that I can't walk, but it's because of this," he lifted his injured leg and what looked like a big wound, suddenly transformed into a shackle that surrounded his thin ankle. One that looked like pure iron. Suddenly he was no longer the stooped child but a full-fledged man who quickly sat across his legs and looked at me as if I were some kind of entertainment.

Fear of the unknown took its toll on me. I was too superstitious (though not as superstitious as my captain) and knew that nothing human lay before me. I took two steps to get away, but I fell off my butt when I tripped over my feet. And I raised my hands to protect my face when the glow of that being became something much stronger.

I could not see well for a few seconds, but when I could focus my gaze, I realized that the clothes had also changed. His hair was long and pulled back in a ponytail. His clothes had changed to something lighter white, and he was, by far, the most beautiful being I had ever seen. The only thing that didn't change was the shackle on his ankle that seemed to be tied to a chain that disappeared into thin air.

"What are you?" I said in a trembling voice, wishing I could raise a prayer for my protection with this type of witchcraft.

"I'm not a thing," murmured the offended creature. Then he laughed again so hard that the dimples on his cheeks were pronounced and his eyes were almost hidden by his cheeks. "I’m a jinni, a genie, a d 'jinn, whatever you want to call it."

I had heard about these kinds of creatures, but not in my personal culture. It was just that when I was younger and not enlisting in the military, I had access to books. A jinni was a legend from another culture.

"What do you want?" I said in a trembling voice and with a huge desire to have some kind of amulet that would protect me.

"First of all, what I wanted was not to be pierced by your sword as if I were some kind of chicken bird," said the genie, getting up from the bed and approaching where I was, even on the floor. "It would have been something quite horrible to contemplate and since you could not kill me, you would have gone into shock and lost your mind."

I seemed to be losing my mind right now. In front of me someone was flying and walking in equal parts, he had completely changed his appearance and had a silver shackle on his ankle that did not seem to be tied to anything.

“Secondly. Did you have to kill them all? They were going to free me until you arrived with your air of a mortal soldier killing them. Now because of you I can't be free” he was sulking, and I could tell.

Nothing he told me made sense and I was sure that my other companions were going to enter soon upon noticing my delay and absence in the hidden room of this house. He sighed heavily and left in front of me to sit cross-legged on the bed once more.

"You're going to have to become my new master," he looked at his clean and short nails as he made this statement, and I couldn't help but look at him in wonder. Not only because of the diaphanousness of his movements but because of all the string of meaningless things he was saying.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"See that over there?" He pointed to one of the tables in the room, which seemed to be a rustic dresser. On top of this was a silver oil lamp, with a series of letters I didn't understand from a distance, drawn on it. "That's my house." From the way he looked at the lamp, it could be said that he considered his lamp-shaped house as something offensive. "I'm a d'jinn." And I can grant wishes. Ask me for anything you want, and I'll give it to you” it seemed like he was reading the libretto of an opera. As if he didn't really want to fulfill that role.

I was speechless.

How could someone ask such a thing of another person out of nowhere? When you wanted something, didn't you have time to think? I heard, after diverting my concentration outside the house, the sound of the other soldiers' boots. Their voices calling my name and approaching.

"Soldier Korn!"

"You can't let them see me," the genie told me quickly, changing his superior position to one of supplication, although his bearing kept shouting superiority. "So, you can ask me to go back to the lamp."

"That's a wish of yours, not mine," I said quickly, standing up and wielding the sword. I'd have time to think of something else. Now I couldn't let any of the soldiers witness this. If so, they would surely accuse me of being an accomplice and I would end up with a rope around my neck. As I said before, my captain's superstition would make him think that this was some kind of demon and maybe it was, but I would have time to check it out.

"I told you you're my new master. You can order me to enter the lamp. When you go to ask me something you have to say, I wish..”  explained the genius again exasperated.

"I order you to enter your house and stay quiet," I said quickly.

Frustrated sighing, the creature began to fade into a beam of light and fog and when I least expected it, it was no longer in front of me.

I ran to the dressing table and took the lamp that was a little hot and quickly put it in my soldier bag while the captain entered the cabin and looked around until he found me.

"Why the hell weren't you answering?"

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't hear you," I excused myself. My captain did not scold me because I was one of his best soldiers and when he realized that I fulfilled the task when I saw the inhabitants of the house all dead, he nodded and said that we should leave immediately. One of my fellow soldiers asked if we were not going to set the town on fire, as was customary, but the captain refused indicating that the orders changed and that we should leave. That someone else was going to take care of that.

"As far as we know, they are looking for something they think is in this town, and they needed us to clean up so they could search more comfortably," the captain resolved and something inside me told me that I was taking what we were supposed to look for. But having it already inside my backpack I could not say or do anything. If those were the orders, I would most likely be killed and… I didn't want to die. Certainly not at the time. Not when a genie had said he could grant me three wishes.

As we drove away on our horses, I began to wonder what I would ask for and if I should trust all that paraphernalia, I had just witnessed…”

“The soldier wondered if he should trust his eyes, and what he had just witnessed…”

The cooing, soothing voice of the man I married slowly brought me to reality.

I had caught a glimpse of everything in my mind by closing my eyes and letting the slave, now my husband, tell me the second story since we had met. Suddenly I had found myself dreaming, listening to his voice and taking the form of one of the characters in the new story who had neither feet nor head. Steeped in magic like the first one, I wondered where this would take us.

Jakapan had been interrupted because the dawn bells were ringing. The day before, without being able to bear the fact that his hand finished healing or even not seeing him, I had ordered that he be brought from the harem, almost at midnight, to continue... because suddenly it was not enough to know the stories, I had to know them thoroughly, I had to try to figure out what was the turn of fate that would make the protagonists of the first installment meet again in the new scenario.

It was noticeable, when he arrived, that they hurriedly took him out of bed. Surely, he was sleeping, but that shouldn't matter to me, the only thing I had to be interested in was that he was available to finish telling the story. Another story where the protagonist had my face. And the genie had that of the person sitting on the windowsill.

His voice was hoarse, and the dim light of dawn made his face look pale. He looked back at me, and his eyes were shining brighter than the stars that the night before gave light to my room.

–Is magic responsible for the curse? – I asked, looking at the ceiling of my four-poster bed, feeling like I had just come back to reality.

–There must be magic involved. Otherwise, they could not meet again in the timelines... But more than magic, I think it's destiny – the dreamer in his voice told me that, in some strange way, he did believe in destiny and magic.

Could it be that fate had overseen crossing it on my way? Was fate responsible that I couldn't take my eyes off him when I first met him? Was this my destiny? Feeling something strange about someone whom, by tradition, I was supposed to murder?

There was an awkward silence that I never allowed to happen between us, and that was because we were both looking at each other from our positions (me lying on my huge bed and him leaning against the windowsill).

For just that moment I wished I had the power to know what he was thinking. But it seemed to me that I had enough with the very hell of madness that was my head to add a brain, seemingly dreamy, imaginative, and good person, so I could see that I remembered perfectly small details of the stories he told.

–Who are you? – I asked him again. Because it was the only question my brain insisted on asking him.

Jakapan remained silent, but slowly stood up to bow goodbye without answering my question. At the same time the bells of the dawn rang a second time in sign that the king consort should return to the harem. The soldiers came in and formed for Jakapan to stand between them, but I raised my hands in a gesture for them to stop.

–Today he stays with me. –

Everyone in the room was silent and somewhat static, my husband included. I could feel Jakapan's questioning and frightened gaze as the soldiers looked curiously at him.

–My lord…–

–Aren't my orders clear enough? – I asked without raising my voice much, but with enough strength to leave the sense of demand that I required.

–Yes, my lord – they all nodded at the same time, making the gesture of obedience, and withdrawing in coordination, leaving the faithful Knight alone in the room. I ordered him to prepare the bathroom for us and then plan for breakfast.

When Knight retired and we were left alone again, I was able to briefly question my actions from seconds ago. For some unidentifiable reason and just that morning, I felt that it was not possible for me to separate myself from the slave. As if with his voice he had created some kind of silver ties, an irrevocable connection to which I had only one option; to adapt.

It was silly and I knew it, but the truth was that I had no other options except to wonder if there was something supernatural in all that matter, as if the presence of the slave in my life, itself, was abnormal.

I could consult the real doctor or someone who would give me a plausible explanation, but the truth was that I did not want to draw special attention to what was happening between us. Or, well, what happened to me. If it was a matter of something supernatural, I still did not develop any power that would allow me to read the minds of others. Apparently the only one I could question was my husband.

I approached him and began to feel a strange and quite pleasant numbness all over my skin. Also, a ringing in my ears that whispered things that didn't make sense but were definitely nice. We remained silent as we stared at each other intensely. I perceived that Jakapan was disturbed by my gaze and wanted to withdraw his, but he had the courage not to. I really wanted to know why he didn't.

I knew he was afraid of me because of the kind of power I wielded over his existence. Just for a second, I wish he didn't fear me to know the behavior of the slave/king consort when he could relax. When he told the stories I was so steeped in my own imagination that I didn't notice anything else. The sound of the door pulled me out of my strange physical connection and away from all physical contact with Jakapan. From the other side of the door Knight indicated that the bath was ready.

–Let it be a double one,– I said in an attempt to avoid what I proposed myself.

Knight, unlike the soldiers, did not hesitate to ask me what I should do a second time. Who did seem to be worried was my husband. Even at the distance I put between us, I could feel his nervousness at the prospect of sharing a bathroom with me. I didn't deny what I found this man attractive. But at the time I wasn't interested in intimacy with him.

Yet.

For now, I was interested to see how far I could push his excessive nervousness. As a strange impulse to annoy him for my own personal delight. I understood it was childish, but it was about trying to repay him for some of the ability he had to affect me. I thought the shared bath was the best option. Or at least the one that was immediately available.

I opened the door to my chambers and left expecting Jakapan to follow me. When I started walking, he lingered behind me. I led our short walk to the first step, where the Thai bath was, which looked a lot like the Turkish bath. This facility was for my personal use. The familiar scent of the scents I used to bathe in brought back memories of the peculiar conversation I had with my husband about our personal scents. A memory that should not delight me the way it did.

Another new warm feeling, between comfortable and uncomfortable, settled on my dead chest. I remembered vividly the way his eyes looked at me hours before. The sun had already finished rising, so the natural lighting did its thing with the formation of stone and precious stones embedded in the wall and the light provided by the oil torches.

The Thai bath was divided into three sources of natural water flow that fell in semi-artificial waterfalls. There was cool, cold, and hot water for bathing depending on the weather, although I almost always used fresh or cold water. I glanced briefly at Jakapan to realize that he was looking at everything with increasing interest. I was aware that in the harem there was a similar bathroom only not as varied and much smaller than this one.

Several servants from the bathroom came in and formed in front of us, ready to serve us. Being used to this treatment, I raised my arms and two servants approached to undress me. While I was in this process, I listened to the complaints in a low voice of the person who was next to me a few moments ago. Without helping it, I observed how he fought delicately with the two servants who, with worried looks, tried to undress him.

In consideration of his privacy and modesty, which at some point he would have to leave (bearing in mind that this was a traditional ritual in the palace), I made a gesture with my hand and two other servants later appeared with an ornamental screen, where they instructed Jakapan to undress.

I was so aware of the silence of the bathroom only broken by the sounds of the water, that I could almost perceive the touch of the cloth leaving Jakapan's body and my imagination led me to draw him in my mind without clothes. It made me wonder if he was as white and smooth as his face looked.

No, I shouldn't think about that.

He emerged from the screen on a huge white towel, looking at his feet, in a purely shy act. I had a similar towel but wrapped around my hips. I was sure that, before looking at his feet, his eyes stopped on my bare torso. Another strange tingling slightly altered my heart rate.

I walked towards the bodies of water and, undeterred, took off my towel and jumped into the fountain, sighing with pleasure at the refreshing sensation. At the other end of the stone pool, I heard another sound of heavy splashing and opened my eyes, taking my wet hair away from them, I saw Jakapan emerging from the water and the slave who threw him into the fountain with a sympathetic smile on his face and the towel, which previously covered Jakapan, in his hand.

The storyteller realized that he could stand without revealing too much of his body. He looked around in wonder, but he must have been used to the entirely natural bodies of water around him in the countryside. He looked at his hands and dipped them and walked or I think he was jumping, letting the water take him away slowly.

–Are you having fun? –  I asked and he turned to me, his cheeks flushed despite the coolness of the water. It was as if he had just realized the intimate position, we were in. The same water surrounded us, and we were naked under it. Jakapan slowly walked across the water and nodded timidly at my question.

–It's like a dream,– he said, looking at his surroundings and the majestic building. I, who was used to it, did not see it in the same way, but seeing the shine in his eyes and noticing that that shine contrasted with the range of colors that the gemstones on the walls could think he was right. For someone with an imagination as vivid as his, this environment must have been surprising.

–I suppose so,– I said as I approached the edge where all the bottles of soap and bath oils were resting. I took the soap one and began to rub my body slowly feeling Jakapan's shy eyes on me.

–It must be very good to take everything for granted–  the boy said now without looking at me. I stopped rubbing myself to try to make sense of what he was saying. Was he upset about something? However, his aura did not express that he was upset, but thoughtful. As if he really could not conceive the idea of the fortune of some and the normality of others.

–You deny your origin,– I affirmed as I followed, almost hypnotized, the movements of Jakapan's hands on the water around him.

–Of course not. I'm just human. None of that should interest me- for a few seconds I got the impression that it was not him who was talking. I shook my head a little to get away from those stupid thoughts.

–So you have no sense of greed,– I commented in return, wondering where that statement came from, or how it manifested itself from my brain to my mouth without me really wanting it.

Before my affirmation Jakapan stopped walking slowly in the water and finally I got him to look at me. It was a lovely sight, for lack of a better word. White shoulders, prominent collarbones, long neck, and damp hair flattened over the forehead. As much as I insisted on seeing him differently, at the moment of truth this ex-slave had to be the same as all other human beings on the planet; at some point he would be blinded only by the material and valuable things he could get.

–Was that what those who came before me had? – Jakapan asked me quickly and when he realized what he had just said, he covered his mouth with wet hands, opening his eyes wide.

I might get angry. I could have him executed right there for the impertinence he had just committed. But in exchange for that an impulse of laughter assaulted me. I forced myself to control it so as not to give an impression of weakness.

The truth was, I couldn't perceive an ounce of greed in this man's body, not since I met him. I let Jakapan live more days and he still did not begin to ask me for things in pursuit of the power that, unlike those before him, I was giving him.  My insides were deeply afraid of the strange attachment I knew I was developing to him. As if something, bigger and stronger than me, were weaving some kind of intricate braid with our fates.

–Yes, he was greedy–  I responded by diving into the water, in an unconscious gesture of protection – he and those who followed him wanted something. Money. Prestige My heart. My compassion. So that I would not kill them–  Jakapan could not know that I was talking about the only other person who, apart from him, that pierced me deeply.

Naphat did not love me, as he always trumpeted. He loved more what he could become by my side, and he loved even more that money he received for carrying out the mission to assassinate me.  Thinking about that, I remembered that Knight still could not clarify the whole matter. What was behind that regicide attempt. There was no information of who could have orchestrated it despite the contacts and all the loyalties that could be bought with money.

Because of my past and what Naphat tried to do I dedicated myself to pigeonhole all those who came after him. Because somehow I developed an additional sense that allowed me to read the intentions and everything they were willing to do to get money and save their lives.

Jakapan was only equal to them in one thing; in that he did not wish to die. I could see that in the purity of his eyes, since mine landed on him, that first time, when I joined the gathering as a husband disguised as a soldier. Jakapan didn't want money. He looked at the luxuries that now surrounded him with admiration, but without the desire to possess them. If anything, the only thing Jakapan seemed to want to own was my attention.

–I'm so sorry, –  he apologized after a few moments, stopping looking at me to concentrate on the oils and soaps. Identifying their need, I pushed the floating wood that contained them towards him so that he could also clean himself. When he was sure that I was not going to do anything about the inappropriate behavior of a few moments ago, he approached and apparently selected the bottle of the color that caught his attention the most. My personal soap.

I contemplated him with the same slowness with which his long fingers held the bottle and uncovered it. As his face tilted a little and he brought his nose closer to the mouth of the bottle inhaling deeply. A sparkling smile was drawn on his face and I was not in the position to stop looking at him and see how that simple gesture transformed his face, from a pleasant one, to a magnificent one.

Would inhaling water vapor have any random effect on someone's general state?

We both finished bathing, but it was clear that neither of us wanted to leave the bathroom yet. It was a guilty pleasure and if he didn't want to leave, neither did I. He seemed to want to go swimming, and only the clarity of the water prevented him from doing so. Finally, he was content to stay leaning on the edge looking at the water curiously.

–Do you want me to continue with the story? – he asked suddenly, his voice resounding as much in the precious stones on the walls as in my own brain.

–Here? – I asked without really opposing the idea. In fact, I wouldn't mind becoming a raisin if it meant satisfying my curiosity about the fictional characters' second lives.

-I believe... Which is the perfect scenario, – Jakapan said as if someone else was speaking for him. He seemed so calm and attuned to the water around us that my stupid insides saw him as almost ethereal. I waved over to them. One of the slaves waiting to receive my orders came forward with a floating wooden tray that had Thai coffee and almond cakes.

Jakapan placed himself at a considerable distance from me. He could make it to the plates if he really wanted to eat something. But he didn't. He seemed to be somewhat nervous about our position, so much so that he had no appetite.

I had serious trouble trying to focus on the story when I put all my attention on him. Especially because my eyes and mind chose that moment to look at the beauty of his features and everything he was. I forced myself to stop and began to imagine the environment of the continuation of this new story.

King Jakapan 

"The soldier tried to maintain a neutral position while he and his companions were trained, and the captain told them only what they needed to know about the mission they carried out. The soldier felt that at any moment the owner of the lamp was going to go out and expose that it was he who stole it from the villagers' house, but none of that happened. However, the extra weight of the lamp in his personal exploration backpack did nothing to make him forget the transgression he was committing.

He could imagine everything; once the captain learns that he stole something from the village when the specific orders were not to take anything, he would be imprisoned, interrogated, probably tortured, and finally executed, in order to remain silent.

Although he felt apprehensive a different emotion was still creeping up the back of his brain and it was why someone would be so interested in annihilating an entire village for a genie in a lamp. He couldn't think of anything else that would have lured someone to do that genocide. But on the other hand, as a soldier, he had no opportunity to know or investigate anything beyond the orders he received from his superior.

When they were put at discretion, they remained formed until the transport truck took them to the initial camp where they would be temporarily discharged until the new call for the new mission.

It must have been uncomfortable for the genie to be inside the lamp, which he called home. But the soldier knew that only when he was discharged would he be able to fully explore what it was he picked up in that strange village.

At night, feeling somewhat paranoid, he took the keys out of his soldier's backpack and entered the humble apartment where he had lived for years. Located in a dark alley and with many shortcomings, it was the only place in the world where he really felt at home. Which was silly for a soldier, but it was the only corner he found where, at least, he could breathe without the pressures of his profession.

Private enough for… what was coming.

He closed the door with a double pin and closed all the curtains hoping that whoever looked outside would think that no one was there. He sat down on the chair in the tiny dining room and opened his soldier's backpack, putting things slowly on the table, until he took out the lamp that, despite being dirty, shone strangely. The same kind of silver glow he sensed when he took it illegally.

Holding the lamp, as if it were a hot potato, he placed it gently on the table and dedicated himself to waiting.

Did he have to knock like when you knocked on a door, for the genie to come out? Maybe he imagined it all out and it was just an ordinary oil lamp?

He reached for the index finger of his left hand and lightly touched the lamp. Then with more pressure. Then he thought he was a fool for not asking the genie how he got out of the lamp, but surely the desire for no one to discover him prevented him from thinking clearly.

–Genie? – he whispered against the mouthpiece of the lamp and immediately walked away in case the genie decided to go out and kill him. Nothing happened and the soldier was beginning to despair. All the fear you felt before was for nothing.

He got up and took a clean cloth from the kitchen and dampened it. He approached the table again and began to clean the dirt from the lamp feeling that every time he rubbed the lamp it got hotter. But it didn't feel like it had oil inside or that it was on in any way.

When he cleaned the upper part, the lamp began to vibrate so that he had to hold it well so that it did not fall to the floor and, surprisingly, the smoke began to come out of it becoming so thick that the soldier had to close his eyes. He did not let go of the lamp, even though it vibrated stronger in his hands, and, in fact, he clutched it against his chest so as not to let it fall, breathing in the essence that came out of it that he could only associate with the genie.

The smoke he breathed was fresh and mentholated and only when it stopped hitting him in the face did the soldier dare to open his eyes. The lamp in his hands was now cold and seemed lifeless, and when he could focus his eyes, he realized that someone was hugging him from behind. He tried to free himself and when he turned around, he found the attractive genie with his arms outstretched, a sign that it was he who was embracing him.

–Why are you hugging me!– he asked in a trembling voice, looking at the genie with his eyes wide open while the genie smiled brightly, seemingly unaware of the rules of etiquette that dictated that such contacts between humans of the same gender or of whatever kind were not well seen. But, on second thought, that genius could not be regarded as a human. He could not know what kind of education a creature like “that” had.

–You're hugging my house. It is logical that when I get out of this one, I will hug you, – said the genie looking significantly at the lamp that the soldier was still clutching to his chest. – You don't have to run away from my touch as if I were going to hurt you. –

The soldier shook his head.

–You can't expect me to accept as well as a contact with someone... something like you –

–I told you I'm not a something, – said the genie in an impatient voice. The soldier looked at the extravagant way in which the genie dressed, realizing, irremediably, the much skin that the diaphanous fabric left uncovered and the white skin. He didn't even want to think that because of those clothes, he felt all the shapes of the genie's body when he embraced him. –I'm just me. –

That phrase sounded all too familiar to the soldier, but it was impossible for him to remember where he heard it or who told it to him.  The soldier walked to the small dining room table and placed the lamp delicately there. The genie's dark, ripped eyes followed his every step as if he couldn't stop looking at him and the soldier knew he wouldn't find any of it as cute as he did.

–Well, if you are someone, tell me where do you come from? –

The genie kept looking at him and for the soldier it was extremely uncomfortable. Not even his captain ever looked at him like that.

–Do you want me to tell you where I was born? – The genie was still standing next to the table and the soldier realized that he did not want the genie to be standing there while he spoke. His own courtesy inspired him to ask the genie to sit down with a kindness that bordered on compassion, even if the soldier didn't realize it. –Well, I couldn't tell you because I don't know either – he admitted with regret. –You could say that I'm strange among others like me...–

–Is there more like you? –  the surprised soldier interrupted and the genie nodded with a gentle movement of his head.

–We generally have good memories, but I lost mine. I just remember starting to belong to one master or another until their deaths and continuing to live in the lamp –

The soldier's mind was filled every second with the amount and questions he wanted to ask the genie and he could give voice only to those that came from his lips in no specific order.  According to what he heard the geniuses were supernatural creatures whose powers were highly appreciated and desired among the humans who knew about their existence. From what he told himself, the genie learned that a military general had been looking for him for a long time and ordered the annihilation of anyone who might have knowledge of the genie. His previous owner/master was killed by whoever wanted to possess him and the genie arrived in the village in the bundle of some merchant. He was vague in telling those details and the soldier kept asking him questions that he did not know if they made sense but that seemed to him the most appropriate to continue knowing the creature.

Irremediably a deep compassion was being sown in his chest at the thought of living such a life, always alert waiting for a new owner who would ask for more and more crazy and against the law things just because he had the power to do so and as a genie, have the power to fulfill those desires.

–Don't you get tired? – he asked when the genie stopped talking for a few seconds.

–Of granting wishes? – asked the genie in a dreamy voice... but clearly annoyed by the question – that's what I'm made for – it was the end of the sentence. The soldier shook his head and got up to pour some water to make a coffee.

–Surely you have a purpose beyond just living to please the wishes of others– he remarked as he took the coffee out of the cupboard and turned to the genie. He almost dropped the box because he did not realize at what moment the genie got behind him and so close – Don't do that! – he rebuked him in a loud voice trying to catch his breath.

–Is that your wish? That I don't come close to you? – The genie asked curiously, and the soldier shook his head, turning to the little dish where he heated the water.

–Don't fool me, I don't wish for anything right now. It's just a friendly talk-

–Friends...– said the genie resting his hip on the wood-burning stove, but without staining his diaphanous clothes in the process. –I don't understand the meaning of that word. I've never had friends–

The soldier turned his face to the genie watching him with the corner of his eye.

–Well, we should at least try to get to know each other before I start asking you for the wishes you so eagerly seem to want to fulfill–

The soldier felt the genie's piercing gaze again.

–You're are very weird– was the phrase that the genie let out.

–Well, you can't go around telling me I´m weird. My name is Kornjirapat. But you can call me Korn. What's your name? –

–Do you want to know my name? – the genie asked with an incredulity that bordered on his marvelous expression. –I never tell anyone. Why would you want to know my name?”

–Friendly talk? – the soldier said again as he removed the little pot of boiling water from the wood stove and served it in the two metal wells, adding the coffee beans.

–Katha,– said the genie still with his surprised expression.

It was a good start.

I looked at my hands that suddenly began to feel numb and I realized that they were as wrinkled as those of a raisin. I returned to the reality of where I got rid of when telling the story, realizing that we were still in the bathroom and that the smelly salts and soaps almost drugged me. The king opened his eyes when I stopped and looked at me questioningly. I took my hands out of the water and showed them to him as the only explanation.

He looked at his own, sighing heavily. Apparently, he understood the state of our skins as that we should get out of the water now. I did not know the effect that being soaked for so long could have on a human, but I also had no desire to find out.

The king turned around and with agile movements of the water began to walk towards what seemed to be the level where the water came down, a ladder.  He did it without inhibition for every portion of his body that was exposed. I could see every shape of his back, where several moles and muscles could be seen moving to the rhythm of his arms. He had a narrow waist and above his… buttocks were two dimples that to my puritanical mind seemed tempting.

When the water reached his legs, I forced myself to stop looking at him because I was sure he would turn around and I would see the whole front. I was curious, but the modesty was more powerful. When I heard a cough clearing a throat, I opened my eyes and, as much as I tried to avoid it, I finally saw the king naked in all his glory. He was magnificent, he seemed like one of those gods they told in the stories I used to read in the small bookstore in town. Like a sculpture by a painter or the carving of a sculptor.

–Get out of there, – was the order that followed, and I forced myself to stop looking at his male appendix to look into his eyes, with my face, surely, as red as a tomato.

–I... – I said without being able to move. Did the king want me to come out naked just like him?

From the look I had it was as if he was challenging me and although I surely had no fighting spirit, my insides seemed to want to respond to the challenge in the way he wanted.

I would surely die of shame when I got to my room, but if the king had no inhibitions in showing me his naked body… I shouldn't have them either. We were not a normal marriage, but I assumed that it was the least that each one should know of the other having established a bond of this category.  I followed his same path feeling the water level go down more and more. Unlike the king, I didn't have many marked muscles. I could be considered soft, and my belly was not as defined as his.

I couldn’t look at him as I kept sensing the water coming down as I climbed the stone ladder. I wouldn't have that courage maybe ever.  But even with my head down I felt like the king's black eyes were detailing me in the same way I detailed him. Part of me wished I wasn't deficient. But another party feared that the king would like my body and switch interests between stories and the marital bed.

A fru fru was heard behind me and my body was covered by a puffed towel. The slaves in the bathroom came back and were helping us dry.

–See you, – said the king in a low voice, holding his own towel around his body and leaving the bathroom.

I stared at him for long seconds until I realized that one of the slaves was talking to me, telling me if I wanted to get dressed there or in my room.  I answered by inertia that I want to get dressed in my chambers on the harem and, thanks to the slave, I was able to reach it because the size of this royal palace would surely make me lose my way.

Alone, waiting for the clothes of the day to be brought to me, I could clearly perceive how my skin tickled and an uncomfortable and unknown heat settled in my underbelly, as the images that I engraved in my king's mind paraded one after the other.

Suddenly my hands were itching to touch the king’s soft skin and that was different from the fear I felt when I first knew I was about to marry him.

That surely must mean something.

Chapter Text

10

King Jakapan

When seeing me in the kitchen the other servants began to murmur to each other in an uneasy manner. That confirmed to me that my reputation as someone who shouldn't be in the kitchen had transpired after the disasters of the last time I was in that place. They looked at me with some fear and the truth was that I was afraid, but I did not want to show it to them. I would have no way of looking like a competent and respectable king consort if I was afraid of cooking.

–My lord, what brings you here? – A cook (her clothes said so) curvy, with luminous eyes and a kind expression, asked me addressing me with a bow.

–I...– I couldn't think of what to say to hide the fact that I was sovereignly bored. I did not meet the gentleman who always walked with the king. Otherwise, I could have asked him for what I really wanted. That gentleman was the only one I had the confidence to ask for something without feeling violent.

I wanted books and I knew that there must be a lot in this palace. However, as I still did not know it completely, I could not risk being beheaded, or worse, for walking around, wandering and looking for a real library.

Surely with the paranoia with which the inhabitants of this place lived, King Wichapas included, that would happen all kinds of ill-founded suspicions about me.  I had to admit that I was afraid to meet King Wichapas head-on. That's why I skipped the morning walk since I got here. The lines of the king's body remained incandescently drawn on my pupils and my memories. I was perfectly aware that, if I came across the king, dressed, I could not imagine anything other than the powerful shapes of his naked body.

It was also useless to deny that he affected me. I was never attracted to anyone, regardless of gender. But King Wichapas had something special. Something that made things that I thought were asleep inside me wake up only with his stimulus.

Most of the time I was a realist, but I couldn't say that I was skeptical of those things that were out of the ordinary. I believed the stories of that stranger when I was younger, so I could expect anything. I remembered everything perfectly and that... might not be considered normal. I didn't know if King Wichapas thought the same as I did. His fascination with stories seemed to be a spell that I didn't do, but someone else did.

Returning to my present and coming out of that dream that made me believe that something more was happening between the king and me than what was seen at first glance, like an ancestral connection, I turned to the woman who spoke and sketching those smiles that made mom and my grandmother say yes to almost everything I asked them, I indicated to the woman that I wanted to learn to cook.

–Your Highness, I...– the woman said, making her smile insecure, which I was morally obliged to return, because a kind smile would also be my weakness, just as mine was for others.

–I won't get in the way, I just want to see how they do it and intervene in small things. Please, please, I swear I won't get in the way - I said, putting my hands in prayer, like when I made the wai and fanning my eyelids in an attempt (futile for me) to look adorable. The woman smiled again and asked me to follow her to where there was a wood and stone oven (perfectly carved and shaped).

I briefly recalled the story of Hansel and Gretel and how the witch's head ended up in the oven where she intended to cook the children. Without knowing where my imagination had taken me, the cook explained to me the details of how the oven worked and how this was the one selected to bake bread. At the time, one of King Wichapas' favorites, walnuts with honey, was being prepared. I filed all that information in my mind the same way I kept the stories I devoured. The preparation of the bread was somewhat complicated, as was the handling of that dangerous oven. I shook my head. This was no time to imagine catastrophic scenarios. No more Hansel and Gretel pictures, please.

But the other option was to imagine the naked king so I decided to keep concentrating on cooking lessons. After we left the area of the ovens, we headed for the burners, from which came a smell tempting enough to attract the attention of my stomach.

There was also science in the art of cooking and I could see it by seeing how each of the cooks assigned to each part of a dish developed the preparation of this in a methodical way.

–My lord– the cook caught my attention when our tour of the kitchen ended. – If you wish you can come here whenever you want and maybe... intervene in some preparation, when you feel ready –

I sighed internally. So she noticed my nervousness too. I wanted to be subtle but maybe she was too perceptive. Surely you couldn't get to her age without learning at least to read people a little.

–I just want to do ...something,– I admitted with some embarrassment and that she won't think of me as a spoiled complainer who got bored despite having, relatively speaking, everything.

–But you had already done a lot – she politely contradicted me, with a certain enigmatism that gave me some curiosity. I didn't feel especially different for having done more than just trying to survive.

– Like what?– I murmured not so sure.

–You are still alive–  she said, changing her enigmatic tone to an almost magnanimous one.

When I looked around, I realized that there were other inhabitants in the kitchen looking at us, and at me in particular, in the same way that the woman looked at me; in the same way that my mother and grandmother looked at me when they thought I didn't notice; with something like pride.

I never felt worthy of such an expression, but I treasured it deeply.

–My lord–  said a voice behind us and I turned in fear, but calming down when I realized who it was. If I remembered well his name was Knight and he was the right hand of King Wichapas. The person I was looking for at the beginning.

Fear was a constant and I felt it again there and now, but I couldn't identify anything strange in the captain's expression so… lack of expression.

–Mr. Knight,– I said insecurely without knowing how to address him or how to call him.

–You can only call me Knight, sir– he said, reading my nervousness and then revealing the reason why he came to us. –If you could come with me...– he said, gesturing for me to follow him.

I said goodbye to the lady cook and Knight waited for me to go ahead to escort me. We had to do this the other way around, as I didn't know where we were headed. Just as before, as if he had read my mind or body expression, Knight was muttering which side I should take to explore this path of wood, stones, exotic furniture and torches with fine oils.

We went out to a kind of clearing inside the castle and Knight turned to look at me impassively. I had the tint to shut up, waiting for him to explain to me the reason for my presence here.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned without any grace to meet the presence I was least interested in seeing at the time. I bowed in greeting, but I did not dare to look up because the shared bathroom and everything that I felt then and that I should not have felt, was still very recent in my memories, considering the origin of our arrangement. I could not like the king, because when he decided that I was no longer useful to him and ordered me to be executed, the pain of death would be doubled by the fact that I developed such positive feelings as "liking" the king.

–You are dismissed– the king ordered Knight and, in my imagination, I turned to the king's knight and right hand and fell to my knees, begging him not to leave and leave me here, alone, with my nemesis in the form of an executing king. But I kept looking down.

Knight's footsteps moved away and only the chirping of the avian fauna could be heard and my breathing agitated.

–I told you before that you can look at me, – said the king after a few more minutes of silence. His irritated tone scared me a little more, shrinking my stomach, because an angry Wichapas king was something I didn't know how to deal with.

–Uh, I don't dare,– I confessed and in my field of vision the king's feet manifested. Seconds later one of his hands traveled to my face and for a horrible second I thought he was going to slap me for being insolent. His long fingers held my chin tightly to lift it from my chest and force me to look at him. But, although I raised my head, my eyelids refused to stop covering my eyes. This could be considered rebellious so in a quick movement I raised my eyelids to look at him, but I knew it was a terrible mistake. The intensity of his gaze almost makes me lose my balance. Something was different, but I couldn't point out what it was, I just got my mouth to try to pronounce his name in question mode hoping he understood me.

–You're coming with me today, – was his reply. I tried to remove my jaw from his hand in a slight movement that would not betray my fear and another feeling that I did not dare to analyze at that moment. But everything was useless, only until the king saw my capitulation in my gaze, he released me.

Why did you want me to accompany you? Was it not enough for you to have shared hours and hours in that damn bathroom?

I nodded as much as I could and finally his fingers loosened for me to release my face. With an elegant movement and a flight of his fine clothes he began to walk in front of me expecting me to follow him.  That garden did not lose its elegance even on sunny days. But the path the king was taking me down was one I never visited. From where I could see it in the harem it seemed to me like a kind of green labyrinth with moss walls or some similar plant. Perfectly cut nature walls that could make someone to get lost.

As we progressed along different paths, the garden slowly lost its opulence to become somewhat more rugged. I felt an irrational fear again because the first intrusive thought in my mind was that I did not want to be alone with the king, and not only because I found his presence especially disturbing but because of… fear.

Yes, even despite the strangeness of my experiences these days, in which my certainty about not dying had created a little hope, fear arose again... my fear of death.

Before all this, I didn't think about what I thought about death. I assumed that I would live my quiet, country life and grow old without further delay. But now, when my death was still hanging by an axe-shaped thread in my head, it was what I thought about most. I tried to overcome all negative thoughts and followed king Wichapas wherever he wanted to take me.

Praying it was not the last time I was under sunlight.

King Wichapas

Only Knight knew where we were going. Part of the expanse of land of the palace and only I visited it, when my mind was not calm. Which, lately, happened very often.

After that closeness with Jakapan, something inside me was changing and I wasn't sure I liked it. My insides were transforming this strange attachment into something much deeper and abnormal. As if something inside me was alerting me to something that had to do specifically with my new husband. With the one I selected and could not stop thinking about since my brain entered consciousness in the mornings, until I tried to turn it off, stopped only by insomnia and the prospect of continuing to share my time with Jakapan.

After seeing each other the way we did (naked of clothes and artifice) something else was unleashed between us and I was sure I wasn't the only one who felt it. For that reason and because my head continued to see us as protagonists of the stories, I had heard so far and I felt the overwhelming need to take Jakapan to my place of personal recreation, a place that was far from the luxuries and power that being a king entailed. It was a place in the palace that was inhabited by my ancestors and that was now abandoned, the whole place dominated by the force of time and nature.

I never really looked at the site, because they were simply ruins, but in the short time I stayed away from Jakapan I could not help but remember the first story he told me, and like the disappearance of the place where Nim died, it resembled this place of my recreation.

In some strange way my unconscious was insisting on me and impossible to deny. That dark part of me wanted me to take Jakapan to this place.

I could almost taste the nervousness and uneasiness emanating from Jakapan, but I was sure that when he saw the place, his uneasiness would subside.

The road kept getting rougher, and the dark color of the branches reminded me of the way the higher being who gave life to Nim cursed Samamun by merging nature with the castle and all its inhabitants.

We stopped in front of the antique copper door and I pushed it aside so that Jakapan could pass. He did not look at me, but observed everything around him as if he were hypnotized, but of course, I could not know what he was thinking and if he also unconsciously associated this place with what he had in his brain.

In fact, I never bothered to find out who my ancestor was, who inhabited the ancient castle. In the history books everything began to be documented from the line of my great-great-grandfather. Before him there was nothing in my family's history.

We entered the garden and a surprised sigh escaped from Jakapan's mouth as the ancient structure finally finished materializing in front of our eyes. The smell remained the same as I remembered it; to nature and abandonment, to oblivion and wild landscapes. Even when everything was like this, the colors of the sun entering through the high branches and the sound of the fauna were something overwhelming.

–Beautiful,– Jakapan said reverently as those dark eyes eagerly devoured every part of my ancestors' place. Looking at him, the only thing I could think of was that he, Jakapan, was indeed beautiful and seemed to feel the same fascination as I did for this place.

–Yes, it is,– I said, referring to him and the place, approaching the center of the huge courtyard, where there was a beautifully carved but gently worn stone fountain. It was evident that a long time ago not a single drop of water circulated through the pipeline work that it should have. It was completely collapsed and partially covered with black branches, strangely shaped, almost artisanally – This is my retirement site – I confessed, knowing it was not necessary. But as I also confessed before, listening to Jakapan's voice was like a kind of soothing and at the same time enervating aphrodisiac.

–Can we go inside?– Jakapan asked with childlike emotion, pointing to the equally ruinous structure of the old palace. With some regret I shook my head, remembering that that was the first thing I also asked when I visited this place for the first time.

-No. It can come down at any time-

I was replicating the same warning I received from the last structure restoration group I hired to assess the condition of the site I wished to preserve. I was told that the entire structure was being devoured by rust and nature. That made me a little sad because it was one of the few places where I felt comfortable and familiar with. I always wanted to know the whole place, but I was never allowed to.

–Surely it was a magnificent place in its early years, – Jakapan said, approaching the driveway as much as the thick branches and grass allowed him. –And what about this courtyard? It is as like the story of the Forest Guardian, as if it belonged to another timeline-

Jakapan spoke in a way that if he were being heard by anyone other than me, he would be imprisoned as a heretic. Even if I liked the stories like anyone else, even the magic part of them could be considered dangerous and even if we were in a space where there was no one else, I feared for how people on the outside could see my new husband's mental sanity.

Nor could I dare to judge him because I was the one who insisted that he keep talking about stories full of magic and strange creatures interacting with humans. In fact, listening to him talk for a long time became one of my few guilty pleasures. I didn't consider him anything remotely magical, but, without a doubt, his presence, his voice, and stories, had me completely bewitched.

–I think this would be a completely appropriate place to tell stories, – he spoke said out of nowhere, quickly pulling me out of my intonations. I refrained from looking at him and had in my mouth a question that would be clearly formulated to annoy him, or at least produce a reaction in him that forced him to look at me and get rid of me from that challenge.

–Why? – I asked, and to my misfortune my tone sounded reproachful, like that of a child who has been denied a candy. –Are my rooms so uncomfortable? –

Only the sound of the wind colliding with the leaves was the answer I got and finally I had to look at him to see if I could find the answer I was looking for in his face, because apparently, he did not want to talk. When my eyes contacted his face, I noticed that he was looking at me, but he quickly withdrew it to turn it towards the fountain.

–Your presence is overwhelming. Your closeness is suffocating- I noticed that he had a hard time admitting those two things he said and I couldn't help but notice that, under the sun and the wild sense, Jakapan looked magical. He still wasn't looking at me, but then I assimilated what he had just said.

Was my presence overwhelming to him? And what did he have to say about the way his sole existence affected me?

I took the steps I needed to get in front of him who saw my approach with increasing alarm. So that was what he meant by overwhelming, wasn't it?

–Define overwhelm–I said in a low voice and I could almost perceive how the atmosphere around us began to be uncomfortably charged with that unknown thing that enveloped us whenever we were close, only this time the same environment seemed to agree with our approach. Jakapan's eyes widened. I knew perfectly well what he meant when he said that my presence overwhelmed him, many of my subjects feared me, but, even if it was so at first, I was not at all interested in Jakapan fearing me. I wanted him to relax and let fly that skill he had. Maybe I was wrong. Perhaps the one who had the concept of overwhelming evil was him because perhaps he was as affected by me as I was by him.

I heard a crackle in my right ear and looked briefly toward where the sound was coming from. I transiently associated it with the sound that a foot made when stepping on a dry leaf but there was no one apart from the two of us. Another thing I was aware of was that the wind and its direction changed strangely, and a smell of fresh jasmine flowers penetrated my nose. Which was strange. In all the time I had been visiting this place I did not realize that there were jasmines growing nearby.

I looked at Jakapan and realized that he was looking in the same direction as me, he also noticed the sound. I couldn't tell if he also noticed the smell.

I got closer to him on impulse than anything else, especially because something in my head was asking me to do it in a screaming voice. My mind seemed to have a choice of its own and I was commanding my body to approach the person in front of me.

“Hug him, kiss him. Take everything that I did not know how to appreciate, " shouted the voice inside my head that sounded the same as mine but I was sure it was not. But why did that within me want me to approach Jakapan that way?

I could not deny that this pleasant idea interested me, but I could move on from it and continue playing the game of flirting, however, the impulse to do something more and more became stronger.  My hand rose as if of its own free will and landed on the side of Jakapan's face. The skin  was soft and fresh. He looked at the approach of my hand as if my limb were a particularly sinuous and dangerous cobra. He seemed not to believe what was happening or the strangeness of this whole situation.

–King,, Wich...apas...– he stammered over my face, his almond-shaped breath inducing me to another type of sensation.

I could do it, after all he was mine and I could exercise my will on him, after all he was my property, even if he was not willing. But again, with Jakapan it was not a matter of wanting to force him, but of persuading him.

–I'm going to kiss you–  I said, warning him beforehand and getting closer, slowly, so he could refuse if he wanted to.

No regrets.

He kept looking at me with those dark eyes full of disbelief.

Was it really so impossible for him to believe that I was going to do this?

Actually, I gave him no reason to believe otherwise. Since he came to live here, I did not behave like a husband who particularly wished to consummate the marriage. It seemed that he was not aware that I considered him attractive.

With my other hand facing the other side of his face to have that angelic form finally in my hands I noticed that he nodded almost imperceptibly to my warning, and for me that was enough authorization to move forward.

The first contact with his mouth caused a tingling in my own lips. An out-of-control shudder ran through me whole, and I just hoped Jakapan was distracted enough so not to notice my growing weakness for him. It was not convenient to give him that kind of knowledge. I should continue to protect myself as much as I could.

But he made it difficult. His soft lips remained stiff when I joined them to mine in brief contacts. I knew nothing of Jakapan's past, but his lack of movement gave me an idea that this was probably his first kiss. I shouldn't feel the way I did at the time. Not even having mastery over so many things brought me this strange pleasure.

Well, if you want to do something, do it right. The motto that my father always followed quietly and that forced me to learn. I slowly began to taste his stiff lips until they became malleable under those of me. First the top, then the bottom. Another exciting tingle ran through me as I sensed how Jakapan was slowly going to adapt his movements to mine.

He was not a bad apprentice, because when I least expected it, Jakapan copied me every time and slowly and methodically the kiss became something much messier and hungrier, even passionate. With that knowledge the possibilities that opened for us seemed to have no end, at least from my perspective.

Our future…

There was no future for us, not when it was all over, so it was best if I took advantage of what was slowly coming my way. Jakapan moved his head to push away so that I could feel his agitated breathing on my face. An abnormal wind continued to travel through our figures and contravened the sun that previously illuminated the whole place.

–King Wichapas...– Jakapan's trembling voice called to me. I finally opened mine completely and found myself with the dark ones of him, full of silent questions for which I would have no answers in a near time, surely,

–Let's go, – I said, not only because I felt wrongly that I should move away but because suddenly it was getting too cold, the wind seemed to be attacking us and it was not a pleasant feeling.

I had no intention of explaining myself (nor was it that I had a plausible explanation). I separated from Jakapan and began to walk away expecting him to follow me.

That he did and any glimmer of pleasure was unraveling inside of me as we walked away on the way back.

Chapter Text

King Jakapan

I followed King Wichapas, wondering what had just happened. In a forgotten place for Buda, I received my first kiss, and it was nothing like I had ever imagined during the few times I had thought about it.

I didn't know my body could radiate warmth where our skin met, and that fluttering sensation in the pit of my stomach...

At that moment, I didn't pay much attention, but now, shaken by what must have been the impact, I briefly remembered that the name **Nim** had crossed my mind at that inappropriate moment. I couldn't understand why I thought of that creature right then because it had nothing to do with the protagonist of the first story I had told the king, let alone the fact that the king himself had kissed me.

And that I had kissed him back.

I couldn't deny that initially, it was all one-sided, mostly due to the surprise of the entire situation. But when I learned the technique, everything became more intimate. I had never felt so close to anyone as I did in that moment, and that was, at the very least, dangerous. Becoming accustomed to all this was like tearing down a protective barrier I had erected to shield myself.

And then there was the strange atmosphere. Even now, walking behind him and occasionally glancing back at the place we were leaving behind, it felt as if those ruins were calling out to me—a summons my own being couldn't refuse. Or perhaps I simply couldn't refuse. I was acutely aware that I would ask the king to return there at any moment, and I almost pictured myself sneaking out into the night, risking my life just to go back.

I was afraid, but my fear was intangible, something that likely existed only in my mind. That made it even more eerie, given the high possibility that I might be going mad. Which, in turn, did nothing to smooth the path toward my demise.

When we returned to the palace garden, I wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind. The king nodded in farewell and left, leaving behind his intoxicating scent and my mind filled with questions.

Was it even healthy to have such a foggy mind after your first kiss? Could the king have infected me with something through that contact? Because my inner self kept replaying that scene over and over, as if trying to verify whether that cataclysmic touch had been real.

"Enough," I told myself, not wanting to give this more importance than it already had. When I reached my chambers, I closed the door behind me and slowly slid down until my backside rested on the floor. I buried my head between my knees, wishing my mother or grandmother were nearby to ease my confusion.

King Wichapas was trouble. He turned me into a bundle of nerves and then simply went about being a king. He offered no explanations for his behavior. I supposed that, as a king, he felt no obligation. It had never crossed his mind that his actions could unravel someone's mental health, and he had every right to shake the very foundations upon which I had built my sanity.

I must have dozed off or something because suddenly I heard a soft, decent knock on my door. When I lifted my head and looked around, it seemed like dusk was settling in.

—Sir, King Wichapas wishes to see you tonight,— the messenger announced.

"It's about the stories. It's about the stories. It's about the stories," I repeated to myself many times.

—Uh... sure, I...— I stammered.

—He'll come to your chambers in a few hours, once he's done with the council of dukes,— the messenger added, completely out of context.

Oh no! Was he coming here? Why? Weren't his own chambers comfortable enough? Had something happened to the king's chambers?

I couldn't ask Knight why the king wanted to visit me in my chambers.

A flood of memories from a few hours ago overwhelmed me. Among them was the fact that I had found the king's proximity overwhelming.

Honestly, I hoped the king wouldn't think his presence in my chambers would make any difference. I doubted that this luxurious harem environment, which I hadn't yet grown accustomed to, would ease my nervous feelings. I glanced around, trying to find something that might bother the king. My chambers remained unchanged since I received them. I hadn't moved anything or claimed ownership of anything because nothing there truly belonged to me.

I couldn't deny that being confined with the king in a small space still stirred that sickening emotion—one I knew I shouldn't feel. Plus, it would create memories of his presence in a place that had only ever sheltered me.

I stood up slowly and walked toward the bed. My rear felt stiff from sitting on the stone floor for so long, and when I settled onto the soft mattress, I sighed.

Should I dress formally to honor him, as was required every time I met with him? Would the king appreciate seeing me elegantly attired? Or perhaps undressed?

Ugh! I was driving myself crazy! When had I allowed it to affect me like this? My mind continued to argue with itself, insisting that I didn't care to give him this power over me.

"I don't want to suffer," I whispered, halting my internal struggle. That thought kept me from taking risks and behaving more freely in the king's presence. I didn't want to delude myself into thinking I had made him feel anything for me—whether it was appreciation for the stories or something else. Maybe he appreciated my brain? I recalled the images of a brain from the lone human anatomy book in my village's library. No, while brains served vital functions, they weren't visually appealing...

I glanced at my own body, assessing what I wore, and then shifted my gaze to the enormous wardrobe containing all the garments I'd received upon moving into this room. I hadn't had a chance to explore it thoroughly because, although most of the clothes were fine, I'd stuck to the ones Knight prepared for me—choosing by inertia, accustomed to neutral colors and simple attire.

Now, before my eyes, an array of colors and shapes reminiscent of the flowers in the surrounding forests leaped out. Dressing in these would likely make even someone as pale and unremarkable as me appear elegant and... attractive.

What should I wear?

Suddenly, I remembered the king's eyes during our hasty ceremony and what I had worn then. Blue clothing with silver accents and matching silver ornaments. Hair neatly styled, forehead exposed, and a touch of kohl to emphasize my eyes. I mentally reviewed my body, noting that the hair removal from that day still held. Nothing to fix in that department.

"My brainy worker reminds me that the king isn't coming to see me naked," I chuckled, grounding myself in reality. True, I only needed to concern myself with the exterior, not private matters.

Should I give up and call Knight for assistance?

"No, you're crazy."

If I did that, surely such personal information would reach the king's ears. I didn't need to polish his already sizable ego any further.

I had to trust myself, at least this once.

Slowly, I selected the garments—the stylish underwear that accompanied them—and the additional pieces. I remembered the order perfectly and dressed, looking at myself in the mirror.

"What are you?" I foolishly asked myself. "What do you want to be?"

I want to live.

I wanted to live and understand what all of this meant. Could the king teach me that? Or should I settle for what I knew of the world through stories?

I gathered the excess hair from my nape with a jeweled hair tie. I also brushed away some strands that fell across my forehead. I glanced at my reflection, ensuring everything was in place and that I looked presentable.

I walked toward the window, gazing out at the sky where a beautiful star shone brighter than the others. I became entranced by its brilliance, feeling a gentle tickle around my neck. When I tore my eyes away, the sensation vanished. I took a deep breath and settled into waiting.

The chimes announcing the king's presence echoed in my ears like an omen. My heart threatened to leap out of my throat!

But I should have known that all my fear, expectations, and—dare I say—hope slowly dissipated when our eyes met as the door separating us swung open. I had believed that by now, I knew all the king's expressions, but the one I saw now was unfamiliar. I didn't know how to handle it, except... should I try to be equally indifferent?

—Leave us,— the king ordered Knight and the other soldiers who accompanied him. My chamber door closed.

I said nothing, merely observing his actions. With hidden pain, I realized that I had always been the only one hopeful, and perhaps the kiss we shared meant nothing to him.

—You should begin— he commanded.

That was the only word and order I received from him.

Hoping that was what he wanted, I sat down and focused on continuing the story where I left off, not allowing the myriad of questions flooding my mind to affect my storytelling ability.

I forced aside the cherished memories from hours earlier, burying them deep in my mind to return to reality. I appealed to my common sense, which desired to stay alive—just like me.

"The soldier (whom the genie had told was named Kornjirapat) told the genie (who said his name was Katha) to simply call him Korn to make it easier to remember. He pulled out some additional blankets, worn but functional, to make an extra bed. Suddenly, a strange instinct directed itself toward the peculiar creature, which surely didn't need protection at all, yet it was inevitable.

That night, he would give up his turn to sleep in the bed, and the genie would rest on the mat on the floor, the woven mat.

—You don't have to do that,— the genie (Katha) said, observing Korn's efforts to provide something comfortable to sleep on. Katha knew he could simply retreat into the lamp, but he felt oddly moved by the new master's actions.

No previous master had bothered to provide anything resembling a bed, and although, by his magical nature, he didn't need sleep, he couldn't help but be curious about this strange behavior.

—Yes I do,— Korn replied, somewhat annoyed, finishing the improvised bed for the genie. As he spread another blanket, the water he had set on the stove boiled and was ready for something warm.

—Do you want to eat?—

Korn felt deep down that he was making a mistake he would probably regret. But despite being a soldier who killed following orders, he couldn't help but try to be a good host. It had nothing to do with the fact that the genie mentioned his precious ability to grant wishes. It went beyond that, and he didn't know how to explain it.

He could feel the genie's eyes following his every move, and he wasn't sure if it was uncomfortable.

—Food? — the genie asked, as if wanting to make sure of what Korn had just offered. Korn was about to reply with something sarcastic, like asking what else could be eaten besides food. But he realized the genie's question was devoid of malice.

—Uh, yes, food. It won't be anything fancy, just enough to fill your stomach—

—I can't know. I've never tasted human food—

Korn halted the movements of his arms and looked at the brilliant figure, trying to assimilate what he had just heard.

—Never? —

The genie nodded, smiling.

—Does it taste good? —

And how the hell, Korn, could know? He only knew what he himself knew about food. Soldiers didn't have much to choose from when selecting meals.

—Uh... I suppose so—

—You don't know? —

The genie seemed to take many things about humans for granted, looking only to Korn as a reference. What kind of masters had he had?

Suddenly, Korn felt the need to defend his human condition in front of the genie.

After setting up the makeshift bed and wondering what to do when a new day arrived, Korn headed to the stove with the curious genie trailing behind. The attention caused a not unpleasant tickle on his neck. No one had ever observed his actions in this way.

He prepared something simple with what he had on hand: homemade noodle soup with chicken. He added some vegetables that were still in the pantry, and it turned out to be what he considered a reasonably good stew.

When it was ready, he served it in two bowls and, turning off the stove, walked to the small dining table, indicating to the genie to sit. The genie sniffed the air as if the smell of hearty food was completely unfamiliar.

With patience, Korn taught him how to use chopsticks, inevitably chuckling when the genie made frustrated faces that Korn found endearing.

The genie was a quick learner. Perhaps due to hunger or curiosity, he rapidly mastered the technique and devoured the soup as if it were the most delicious delicacy he had ever tasted. He savored each bite indecently.

Korn tried his best not to watch him, focusing on his own meal but failing miserably. When the genie finished, he sighed in satisfaction and gently rubbed his stomach.

—So this is what it feels like,— he said cheerfully.

—What thing?— Korn asked.

—My previous masters requested special foods. I conjured whatever they asked for, the most delicious foods on the planet. I complied, but I was never invited to taste them,— the genie said, smiling without malice.

—How many masters have you had?— Korn asked, feeling an uncomfortable itch in his chest as he let that question slip from his lips. The genie hesitated, then he thought for long moments and finally raised his left hand with four fingers up.

—None of them invited you to see the world or something?—

—It's not so strange. If you look at it as a whole, no human ever asked me for happiness or eternal life. Everyone wanted infinite money, luxury, and passion...—

—Passion? Did they ask you to sleep with them?— Korn asked quickly, thinking that despite being a genie, he was still more of a slave than anything else, but the genie denied it.

—No. They just asked for the most beautiful people in the world and to find them attractive. I cannot create love or happiness even though no one asked for them. It's curious that you, as the new master, have not asked me for anything yet.—

Korn was also wondering about it, but considering what the being had just said about happiness and love, he doubted that the genie could give him what he desired at that moment. However, he tried to taste the disappointment.

—If I asked you...— he was careful in choosing his words because the genie and what he did could interpret it as the soldier making use of one of his wishes and Korn was just testing his discouraging theory, —Would you end the war?—

The genie looked at him for long seconds, as if thinking about each of his words, then decided to speak.

—In exchange for a plate of human food, I will give you a truth. If you asked me, I could do it, but that would be a waste of your wish because, even if the war ended, the time of peace would not last long. Humans are violent and full of hatred by nature, history has proven that everything they create is used for destruction, wars will never end even if I did something. With your wishes, you must be less altruistic and perhaps a little selfish.—

It was just what Korn imagined, he thought, a little disappointed to have held on to some kind of hope, but grateful for the genie's honesty... of Katha’s. He nodded to indicate that he understood what he wanted to say, fully agreeing with him, his own experience as a soldier could attest to that.

Sighing, he pointed to the improvised bed for the genie.

—It's time to sleep.—

—I don't sleep,— the genie said cheerfully.

—Never?— This question brought him a déjà vu like when he asked if the genie never ate. By the way the genie denied it, Korn knew he did not understand the notion of sleep.

Korn indicated for him to sit on the bed, and he sat on the mat, crossing his legs. He was sleepy, but his curiosity was stronger.

—So what's inside the lamp?—

The joy in Katha's expression slowly drained at that question.

In reality, the genie was surprised and somewhat uneasy by the curiosity of this human about matters he never had to explain to any of his previous masters. Were all humans like this, or was it a quality reserved only for a few? His own curiosity as a magical creature made him want to know how far this human would go before becoming like those he had met in the past.

In the silence of the genie, Korn understood that it was a personal question, so he told the genie to lie down, as even if he couldn't sleep, he could at least try to relax. He got up and headed to the old piece of furniture where he kept his clothes. Without stopping to think, he started undressing to change out of the military uniform. Accustomed to nudity among soldiers when they were in camp, he didn't think much about doing it in front of what he considered just another boy.

Only when he heard the exclamation behind him, he turned his head to look at the genie, whose halo of body glow seemed brighter than before, as bright as his eyes that, without any shame, traced the shapes of the muscles and curves that Korn exposed.

—What?— the soldier asked, not understanding Katha's excitement.

—You are like a god,— the genie phrased, stopping his wandering gaze at Korn's waist and what was below.

Feeling somewhat intimidated by the genie's unsettling eyes, Korn, like a fool, thought that this could be another teaching moment for the genie, so he allowed him to look until he put on a pajama consisting of his underwear and a long shirt.

—I'm just human,— Korn commented, wondering what concept of god someone as extraordinary as Katha had.

He lay down on the mat while Katha lay face down, with his hands resting on his chin. He seemed lost, not knowing what to do. As tired as Korn was, he couldn't fall asleep.

They looked at each other from their positions for a long time until Korn asked the genie to tell him a little about himself.

Sighing solemnly, the genie began to speak, and the little that Korn grasped before falling asleep was that Katha must be around a thousand years old or more..."

I coughed a bit when my throat dried up, I stopped due to the uncomfortable feeling in my voice (not to mention in my gut) during those hours of storytelling.

The dark eyes of the king looked at me again as if asking why I didn't continue. I decided not to say anything and walked to the table where the ever-present jug of water was. I poured myself a glass, looking out the window and seeing the red, orange, and lilac shades of the clouds, an unmistakable sign that dawn was approaching. I didn't know what time it was, but the bells would soon ring. I gathered some courage and looked at the king who had not taken his eyes off me.

—The bells will soon ring,— I was able to say after taking a sip and feeling the earthy taste of the water that I didn't pay much attention to. I could feel in the atmosphere that vibe telling me to keep my place, but I couldn't help it, I wanted the king to leave so I could remove the mask of indifference and also that fine and useless clothing that had caused me so much trouble.

An unusual heat settled in my stomach and rose uncomfortably and suddenly up my digestive tract. Out of nowhere, my skin turned cold and sweaty, and I placed the glass on the table to avoid dropping it when I started to feel my hands going numb.

Something was not right.

I looked at the glass but there was only water in it, and then I looked at my hands that were trembling more and more. The heat in my stomach turned into overwhelming pain and I groaned in surprise, putting a hand on my stomach to try not to fall to my knees from the excrutiating feeling.

I heard steps approaching slowly and then a thunderous voice calling for Mr. Knight. My vision blurred and I tried to move away from the burning hands that were holding me to prevent me from moving too much. I opened my eyes wide to clear my vision and see that the wicked king was trying to force something into my mouth that I kept tightly closed with the strength of my jaw. He must have seen me as a lunatic, and the only thing I could think before losing consciousness was that the king had tried to poison me.

Chapter Text

King Wichapas

When I separated from the pleasant and unsettling presence of my husband, I was able to think clearly again and see things that, in the pleasure of the moment, I was unaware of. Like the fact that my will had been partly dominated by something other than just me.

I couldn't name it and the whole atmosphere felt as if I wasn't entirely in control of myself. This disturbed me greatly because I thought I was being a victim of some kind of witchcraft, cult, or something equally strange.

I knew it was unreasonable, but the only one to blame was Jakapan, which also made me suspicious that he was conquering me so I wouldn't kill him, or to achieve the goals of those before him.

As a king, I couldn't allow any of this to happen, even though my dark and obviously immature interior desired it greatly. Yes, that, at least, I could accept without needing to self-flagellate with guilt. I liked the boy. In the few days I had known him, he had done something, not just with his tongue, full of the magic of words, but with his presence in general.

My good memory kept playing tricks on me about how he looked naked and how his black hair contrasted with his white skin. I was definitely starting to be affected more than I had said I would allow, and the unease that it produced in me translated into annoyance in my personal language.

Annoyance with him and with his existence.

Maybe I should just take the sword and assume my role as the executor of husbands and take him down as I should have done from the first night, before allowing all of this to reach this point. I feared Jakapan although I would never admit it out loud. I feared that he was looking for a way to get under my skin and then stab me in the back.

All these conclusions came after analyzing the depth of my emotions while kissing him. I was so absorbed in him that I forgot what was really important; staying alive and not letting anyone kill me. Among my goals should not be to feel attracted to anyone, because everyone had bad intentions.

The main thing was to change my attitude, even though my whole interior told me that I was wrong. I should not, under any circumstances, give that boy a sense of security, or make him feel any attachment. I couldn't ignore, even though I tried, the special way he looked at me, as if he harbored feelings for me, which I wouldn't allow either.

I wouldn't even consider offering him something like a deal, because when the stories ended, he would die, not only to honor the decision I made from Naphat, but because no one in the world should know the boy.

I ordered Knight to let him know that I would go see him. I did it in such an impersonal way, nothing like I had done before, but Knight, as always, kept silent and obedient. He didn't judge me, although I highly doubted he understood anything. I knew he had a wife, but I wouldn't dream of asking him how to lead a married life.

I pushed Jakapan to the back of my mind for the day, focusing on my activities and duties as king. But, somehow, he kept sneaking in, with his transparent eyes and genuine smile in the face of worldly pleasures.

I armed myself with something like a suit of indifference. I wouldn't let him affect me anymore, he was still my property and I could do whatever I wanted with him: from leaving him behind to taking him if I so desired (although I was afraid that if I allowed that kind of intimacy with him, I would fall even deeper into this abyss of perdition). That day Jakapan would understand that he couldn't play with my emotions.

As night fell, my stomach began to churn strangely, as if anticipating being in front of him. I controlled it in the same way I had learned to control my emotions, not letting them cloud my judgment, and entered his room, failing miserably, at least internally, in pretending not to notice. Because I did notice, but I didn't let it show on my face how adorable I found him in that moment.

But I didn't let passion win and simply didn't get too close, although that didn't prevent me from noticing the delicious scent emanating from him, it wasn't the room or the incense in it, it was Jakapan's personal scent that my nose recognized all too well. I urged him to start even though deep down I wanted to talk to him about something else, like how his day went and why the clothes he was wearing made him look more appealing than before.

Suppressing those unnecessary emotions, I lay on his bed, which also had his scent, and waited for him to start, pretending not to notice that although he tried to remain stoic, he was completely perplexed by my behavior. He began to speak with his magical voice, and in front of my eyes, the whole story and all the things happening between the soldier and the genius began to unfold.

My eyes occasionally wandered to Jakapan's image as he spoke, noticing that he was focused on recounting what was in his mind rather than what was happening in the present moment.

In my reality, I had the face of the soldier, and he had the face of the genie, and we interacted in the subtle way they did, realizing that the genius had never encountered a human like the soldier before. It made me wonder what kind of life that man had led to become who he was in that reality, someone concerned about being a good host despite the war being able to damage a person's mind. If anyone knew, it was me.

The genius, on his part, was adorable, genuine, and the advice about being selfish about desires felt like it was directed towards myself. To have that opportunity, to have three impossible wishes granted...The possibilities were endless, but at the same time, they were not, because it was limited to just three wishes, and they had to be requested with caution and I imagined with the right words, because, in the end, no human truly knew what they desired, ever.

Just as when I listened to his stories, time passed too quickly, and my need to distance myself became evident as I noticed the sun rising in the eastern part of the palace. Jakapan stopped when the soldier fell asleep, and he looked at me in that special way that conveyed many things, which language I had not yet learned to interpret.

As I helped myself up to leave, Jakapan approached the water jug that was always in the rooms and poured himself a glass, surely to clear his throat. I took two steps, waiting for the protocol sound that signaled I should leave my husband's chambers.

An unfamiliar instinct took over me, one that urged me to look at him in a way I did when I was about to attend to my royal duties, only this time I didn't see Jakapan's neutral gaze but his furrowed brow at the taste of the water. Then he dropped the glass, which resonated loudly on the wooden table as Jakapan grasped his throat and his eyes began to turn red with tears.

I approached, not entirely convinced that this was real, but when he fell to his knees and went from holding his throat to clutching his stomach, the unmistakable symptoms of poisoning appepared before my eyes. Due to my previous attempted murder, there was a specific protocol for such eventualities. That's why I knew that just by calling out to Knight, he would arrive with something that could be an antidote or help.

Knight burst in through the door, running towards us. I was on the floor holding Jakapan's body, who had started writhing in pain. Between the two of us, we held his limp limbs and Knight forced a vial of antidote into Jakapan's mouth, making a great effort because the boy's jaw was rigid. We were probably playing with my husband's life because that antidote or potion, according to the apothecary, was effective against all poisons, but that was limited to the poisons known to the apothecary, which, although many, I truly hoped would work against whatever Jakapan had ingested.

Making him swallow it was another almost impossible mission, because the boy almost bit the vial with the force he was squeezing his jaw, but he finally did it, and when we managed to make him swallow it, we waited for the effect, which came moments later when Knight turned Jakapan's body to prevent him from choking on his vomit.

With loud retching, the boy began to vomit what was surely the antidote and the poison, doing so with such force that I feared he might also vomit his vital organs, but fortunately, none of that happened. The boy stopped vomiting, and when we knew he had nothing left in his stomach, Knight helped me place him on my back to carry him to the bed, where he was deposited with a delicacy that I didn't believe I possessed.

I looked at his pale, almost greenish face, his breathing was irregular, and his skin was sweaty and clammy. I called his name, but he seemed to be in a state of unconsciousness because he didn't respond, and I feared that the poison he had processed could be affecting other parts of his body.

Sinisterly, I thought this could have been a suicide attempt. The blood of the evil  boiled within me for not expecting something like this, but when Knight, who had been carefully observing what the boy had spat out, looked at me, the idea was discarded.

It was an outside job.

Knight sent one of the soldiers to fetch the apothecary and the royal physician  to come to this part of the harem, something that had never happened before in history, but I was not going to allow Jakapan to die, at least not yet, and certainly not under someone else's hand.

I was being irrational, but when Knight quietly confirmed to me that the contents in the jug and in the boy's vomit were poisonous scorpion eggs, the signature animal of my most ardent enemy, things became a bit clearer. As far as I knew, and I trusted Knight to keep everything secret, no one knew the real reason why Jakapan was still alive, only that he was. In the eyes of enemies, this could be seen as the new king consort being important, and killing him would weaken the stability of my kingdom and myself.

I wouldn't openly admit that I was indeed affected, especially when I became aware that if I hadn't visited him the previous night, the boy would have drunk the poison, and no one would have helped him. He would have died, and I would have been a widower again, but not under traditional terms.

The matter would have to be investigated; it was an attack on a member of royalty, and on top of that, the perpetrator had managed to infiltrate the harem and the exclusive chambers of the king consort. They wouldn't have been able to enter like that, so it was most likely an inside job.

The apothecary entered along with the physician, and they began to prepare, under Knight's orders, another series of antidotes to save Jakapan's life. They agreed to perform a bloodletting, at the same time as he consumed the antidotes that, they said, could rebuild the components of the blood he was going to lose.

I observed everything impassively, although inside a concern not typical of me was consuming me, not only because if Jakapan died, everything I knew about him, that privileged mind and the stories within him, would be lost.

The boy was as young as I was, and he didn't deserve to end his life so young... even if that had been his fate by marrying me. Death should come to him in my form, not in the form of the enemy.

After the first bloodletting, Jakapan had stopped breathing heavily, but he still furrowed his brow and his skin was pale and coldly sweaty. The physician stayed by his side while the apothecary went to the adjacent garden to fetch more plants.

I ordered Jakapan to be transferred to my personal chambers, where the boy had only been once to tell me stories. From that moment on, the king consort would be guarded there. There was no safer place in the palace, and Knight and I knew that well.

I placed one of my chairs next to the bed and dedicated myself to watching over Jakapan in the hours that passed that day, handling my affairs from there, and, just as when they tried to kill me, I let Knight take care of what didn't require my immediate attention.

The emptiness in my chest grew stranger as the hours passed, as if it was slowly filling up as I watched the boy's recovery. The physician said he would likely wake up the next day and probably wouldn't be fully conscious. When night fell, exhaustion took its toll on me, and I left the chair to lie down next to the bed, which was spacious enough to accommodate both of us and easily five more people.

I closed my eyes and must have fallen asleep right away, because I immediately began to dream.

I saw myself in the fountain in the old part of the palace, only the place wasn't dilapidated or ancient, but bright and sunny, filled with flowers. The crystal-clear water flowed from the mouth of the tribal figure carved in the fountain, and the sound was soothing.

"I thought you knew you had to protect him," a voice said behind me, and I turned around to see that it was Jakapan approaching me, only it wasn't him. Or at least his eyes weren't, because they were a deep gray, abnormal in our race.

"Why do I have to do it?" I asked.

"Because it's you. Your repentance made promises to my father, you swore to protect me in the future and you're not doing it."

"He's a slave. And he must die anyway. Why should I protect him?"

"Because he is me."

Nothing that was happening in this dream made sense to me, but I tried to go along with it, trying to identify something that would help me understand.

"You have to protect me, otherwise, your repentance will be meaningless, and we will never meet again."

The mere idea of my dream self not meeting the dream Jakapan suddenly and without reason made me want to cry deeply.

"I know what I promised. But, I don't know how to protect anyone."

"Love me as it is destined. That is what you can do to start protecting me. Because, otherwise, none of these lives will have had meaning."

What lives? I wanted to ask. Wasn't this my life? Wasn't I real...?

"Protect Nim."

A strong grip made me wake up abruptly. A cold, damp hand was holding mine and brought me back to consciousness. The person lying next to me groaned pitifully and shook his head from side to side in an obvious feverish fit.

I turned immediately, and indeed, while the hands were cold, the forehead was so hot it seemed his head was about to explode. I called for Knight to bring the physician and let go of his hand to rush to my water jug, examining it carefully to avoid any mishaps. I wet one of my towels and returned to the bed to dampen Jakapan's forehead, knowing that the fever could cause convulsions and worsen his condition.

While the physician took care of him, Knight took me aside.

—What did you find out?" I knew Knight had already set his network of informants in motion.

—There's an infiltrator, but we don't know who yet.—

—And the scorpion?— I inquired.

—It could be a decoy or a deception, or it could be them. It's too early to tell.—

—Understood. Wait. I can't leave at the moment. I need to protect him.—

Knight and I exchanged glances as if neither of us believed what had just come out of my mouth.

—I...— I hesitated in my words, something I had never done before.

—I know, sir. I'll bring king Jakapan's things here so he can finish settling in.—

I nodded, unsure of what else to say, and turned back to the doctor who had finished administering medicine to Jakapan.

—He will sleep for a few hours. I suggest you do the same, sir.—

I dismissed his suggestion because I vividly remembered the strange dream I had and didn't want to encounter that strange gaze with gray eyes of a being that couldn't be Jakapan.

Chapter Text

13

King Jakapan

A smell that I knew well was penetrating my nose as I regained consciousness of my mind and body. An aroma that could only bring to mind the image of the person I shouldn't be thinking about, especially after what happened.

I was alive. It seemed that my destiny continued to be not to die in this place, even though I was always just a few steps away. It was difficult to accept, but I still believed that I could do more than just be a useless king.

I tried to fill my lungs with air, feeling the pain in my throat as if I had drunk something too hot and burned my mouth and all the way down to my stomach.

I focused on not coughing as I swallowed saliva to lubricate my throat. I focused on the air passing slowly through my nose. Even in that way, the uncomfortable feeling did not completely go away, and I wanted to open my eyes, but I felt my eyelids were so heavy that I held back for the moment. My senses were simply focused on inhaling that aroma that I would have enjoyed before, but now it was mixed with the bittersweet smell of disappointment.

Due to my condition, I couldn't tell if I was really waking up to reality or still traveling in the world of dreams, or death, where I could see myself and the king in questionable situations. But surely, if it was reality, because when dreaming, I didn't feel pain, or at least I didn't when I dreamed.

The king...

It was him I smelled. It was the same essence as that time I had him so close in the ancient garden. And it was that smell that I believed was reviving me.

Or at least bringing me back to the world of the living?

I made a new attempt to open my eyes, managing to do so halfway. The first thing I saw above me were the posts of a bed, with silk curtains in a deep red color that screamed how expensive they were. These were definitely not my chambers, and the uncomfortable feeling of being in a different place made the rest of my aching senses fully awaken.

No, they were not my chambers. I recognized them immediately. They were the king's chambers, which I had only visited once or twice before. At that time, I didn't really remember if I had the chance to notice those small details, but now my eyes feasted on the rich colors and special aroma, which I definitely shouldn't find special.

I filled my lungs with air again, enduring the pain that action brought to my body, and unintentionally let out a sigh when I exhaled with enough force for it to be heard. I turned my head to the left, and the first thing that caught my eye was the window of the room.

There was a person standing there looking out of it, my eyes finished clearing and focused on a bare back, white in color with several moles scattered on the snowy skin. The figure wore loose silk pants of the same color as the curtains. He was looking out of the window and apparently had been in that position for quite some time.

The sound of my discomfort must have alerted him because after a few seconds of staring, he quickly in my direction. His long strides headed towards this huge bed, which obviously I had never been on until that moment. Because it was his bed, I knew the smell came from him and his surroundings.

—How do you feel?— was the first thing I heard coming from that aristocratic mouth, and I found myself staring at that part of the body, not really believing he had just asked me that. Much less that he was so close to me in that indecent position.

My instinctive reaction was to back away, not only because of what I thought about his skin. But even for that, I lacked strength. After all, I remembered with brutal perfection his behavior the last time I had him in front of me, and how my disappointment made me regret all the illusions I had of meaning something to him, apart from a very literary form of entertainment.

—Like I swallowed a cactus,— I replied and didn't recognize my own voice. Yes, indeed, my throat was sore, and I suppressed the obvious cough. I swallowed several times with effort while my laborious brain faithfully reminded me of what had happened.

A wave of images flashed before me in the form of memories; the muddy water, the rush of heat, the sensation of a fiery flame erupting in my stomach, and the unbearable pains seconds later. The blurry vision, the dizziness, the incredible nausea... and the image of the king shouting my name...

I had read about it somewhere, possibly in one of the ancient medical books in the village library. That's how poison worked.

That voice had called my name loudly, but it wasn't just the king's voice, something else called and urged me to cling to life even if that life had nothing worth holding onto.

Then the noise of the door had ceased with any imaginary voice I might have been hearing, and I heard it in triplicate in my functional ears, along with the increasing sensation of suffocation.

—What happened?— I managed to articulate as the king's bare torso remained in my field of vision, in such an inappropriate moment.

I tried to prop myself up on my elbows to sit up, but the king's hand on my forehead made my weak body yield and lie back down. In addition to this, I felt a strange pain in the crease of my left arm, which forced me to look to see the huge bruise there.

—You were poisoned,— the king said with a neutral voice, his onyx eyes scanning my face, making me feel uncomfortable.

Wow.

Just as I suspected, the second attempt to end my life. The king's face was impassive, but for me, whose incredible memory had memorized every feature of his face, it was clear that he was angry.

Why? Was he angry because he didn't fulfill his mission?

After all, he seemed to change from one moment to the next. At first, I seemed to please him, and the next moment, he couldn't stand my presence.

I didn't know what I did. As far as I could remember, I was more than willing to respond to his advances, even though I had no experience. Was he expecting me to throw myself at him? I remembered what he told me about his past love and that person's greed and desires to commit regicide.

Perhaps he just wanted to continue his tradition and get rid of me. My instinct told me to stay away, but the king's hand on my forehead prevented any movement. Especially because my forehead felt very hot, so much so that I was probably running a fever, and the king's hand felt refreshing. But at the same time, I was afraid of his proximity and that he wanted to finish the job.

I couldn't come up with any other conclusion because I couldn't be sure of anything in this palace anymore. I didn't know if the king really came to like me, if he was truly entertained by my stories, or if he was simply playing with me.

I placed my hand over his and, with the little strength I had, pushed it aside, leaving my pain aside as well, so I could sit up and be in a less disadvantageous position. The king watched all my movements and did nothing when I moved away from his touch, but he seemed to be reading me with his penetrating gaze.

—How inconvenient, isn't it?— I said, leaning my head with a heavy sigh on the padded back of the bed.

—What are you talking about?—

—It must be quite frustrating trying to kill your husband and failing,— I said quickly before I could measure myself and regret it. I believed that in these moments of near-death, I could afford to be as insolent as I didn't allow myself to be in the past. The king continued to look at me for long seconds, and when I least expected it, he burst into laughter, as if I had just told him a very funny joke.

Surprisingly, I didn't get angry, at least not at that moment, because I had never, ever seen him laugh so openly and uninhibitedly. I was captivated by his gesture, momentarily forgetting what I implied by speaking in the way I did.

I wanted to be even more insolent and ask him what the hell he was laughing at, but internally, I enjoyed the fact that he found me entertaining. I felt like the corners of my lips wanted to lift. I would have joined in his contagious laughter if the situation wasn't delicate enough to laugh. When the king realized I wasn't laughing, he slowly stopped.

—I didn't poison you,— he said after a few moments. I stayed silent because I didn't believe him. And he seemed to notice because he began to explain. —If I wanted to kill you, I would have executed you the day you arrived. I don't deny that was my intention at first, but if I wanted to do it, a method as ordinary as poison wouldn't have been chosen.—

And was that supposed to make me feel better?

—So, am I supposed to believe you won't kill me, sir?—

He looked at me again for long seconds, as if finding it difficult to give me an answer that I could misinterpret or that would give me some kind of hope... which wouldn't be the purpose of this lord.

—I haven't decided yet.—

—But you haven't followed tradition.—

Every word I spoke felt like fire coming out of my body, but suddenly I found this conversation too interesting for my own good.

—You have something I want,— he said, leaning slightly over me, making it impossible for me to ignore the closeness of his bare, white chest. I had nowhere to move, so I tried to appear strong amidst all the weakness in my body. In front of this lord, I could only be physically vulnerable. If he continued to play with my mind, he would end up destroying the little sanity I had left.

—I have nothing that could tempt you,— I said slowly, finally shifting my gaze away from his chest.

—I want your brain.— I burst into laughter at his words, but unlike him, I didn't erupt in good humor because my body was in pain.

—Do you eat brains?— I said, attempting to get him to stop leaning over me.

—Do you know what a brain is?— he asked in a surprised tone, and when my eyes decided, on their own, to look at him with resentment, he laughed again, indicating that he enjoyed mocking me. 

—Your intelligence intrigues me. I like and am intrigued by the stories you tell me. That's what I want from you,— he said.

I tried not to feel disappointed by what he said he liked about me. My inner idiot wouldn't have minded if the king had said he liked me as a person. That wouldn't lead to anything. So I tried to divert his attention.

—So, do you know who did it?— I assumed he would know what I was referring to and hoped he had enough compassion for me to change the subject.

—It's in Knight's hands. I, for the moment, can't handle it, and I know I can trust my head captain.—

—Why can't you do it yourself?— I asked quickly, straightening my body as the dizziness subsided.

—Because I have to protect you.—

I lost my balance when he said that, he surely noticed in the unconscious movement of my body, which I hoped he would confuse with some futile effort on my part to adjust better on the bed. The meaning of his words penetrated my consciousness. Surely I misheard. Because he, a king who hated his husband, was saying he had to protect him.

Stupidly, I wondered if perhaps I had truly died poisoned and this was my next life, parallel to the previous one. Which still made me believe that if I continued to have such thoughts, I would end up on the gallows, accused of something strange.

—What...?—

—What you heard. From now on, you will be under my care and protection until Knight manages to find out who and why they poisoned you.—

I surely let all the surprise and confusion show on my face, which must have been even paler than before. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined I would hear the words I had just heard.

—What do you mean by that?— I said, although I was curious, I was afraid to hear his answer because, even if I had to admit it, the king's actions were so unpredictable that they gave me a headache.

—From now on, these will be your chambers. You will live in this wing of the palace and have someone watching over you at all times,— the king explained.

Wow, I thought.

I had exchanged one prison for another. What was clear was that someone who had gone to all the trouble to 'kill' me wouldn't care to mention the word 'protect' or offer such a display of protective measures.

—And you?— I asked amidst all the chaos his words were causing me. I had never had anyone's protection, so the concept was entirely foreign to me. Just like the pleasant feelings that were still trying to overflow from my heart. —Who will protect you?—

This time the king didn't laugh. He simply pierced me with his black and deep gaze.

—It's not me who needs protection,— he finally answered, and I felt like he wanted to maintain that indestructible appearance in front of me.

—But they have also tried to kill you,— I said, wanting to slap myself for reminding him with those words of those unfortunate events that no one should remind him of.

—Not so indirectly. I can't have anyone poisoning members of the royal family. So, as a king, I must protect my consort.—

"No, don't get your hopes up, don't think he's doing it for you. Surely he's being motivated by some sort of knightly honor, not because he really feels the true impulse to protect you."

— But surely the last thing you want is to have me by your side all the time,— I insisted, more out of habit than because I really found the idea absurd.

—On the contrary. You know what I want from you. It will be quite productive to perform my duties, protect you, and listen to you, when I set aside my royal duties,— he said.

This meant that the stories wouldn't stop. The king wanted to continue using the stories that the stranger told me. It seemed like he found them as curious and strange as I did.
I nodded slowly, thinking about all he said and imagining a future where we were together all the time.

—Alright, I suppose,— I said quickly, and just as quickly, I thought that if this was going to be my bedroom, where would the king sleep?

I opened my mouth to ask him, but I heard some knocks on the door, and we both turned to look as the king gave the order to enter. Knight, the ever-chivalrous knight, entered the room, making two bows of greeting. In one hand, he held a bottle of a color similar to the lilacs that waved in my old flower garden at home. In the other, he carried bandages and some ointment. King Wichapas stood up and moved away as Knight approached my seated figure on the bed. I answered his question about how I was feeling and handed him my arm when he kindly asked to bandage it and apply some ointment to reduce the bruise there.

—How am I?— I whispered because I knew Knight had excellent hearing.

—Much better. The bleeding worked perfectly, and you can start eating in a few hours. The doctor says you won't be able to eat solids for at least a week.—

I sighed heavily, sending all kinds of mental curses to whoever did this to me, wishing for the wrath of nature or some higher power to slowly consume their soul. What fault did I have?

Surely it was King Wichapas's fault, but I couldn't blame him. He was a king after all, being so close to death must be normal. 

When Knight finished, he turned to the king, and they spoke in terms that were unknown to me until he finally left, and, new and anxiously, we were left alone.

As I sat there, with my eyes closed, many things happened, and my eyes were closed because I decided to keep them that way. Even with my eyes closed, my hearing was excellent, and I could almost map in my head the king's movements in his own chambers.

Without any inhibition, King Wichapas took his bath that morning, in a place where there was a bathtub made of a material that looked expensive when I noticed it (when the king wasn't submerged in it).

Behind a screen, I could hear the water falling on the king's body, which seemed quite self-sufficient, making me wonder why he wouldn't bathe in the Thai bath that I had the chance to know. But I didn't say anything because my imagination was already doing enough for me.

I wanted to join him in the bath, but I didn't say anything because I assumed I had to remain in bed longer. The temperature in the chambers didn't seem to match the climate I could observe through the windows. It seemed like the material the stone walls were made of could insulate the heat and make the room quite cool.

When the king finished bathing, I pretended to be asleep, but he immediately noticed, as the chuckle I heard was surely a giveaway. I tried to be confident that he dressed and ventured to open my eyes to look at him. He was looking at himself in a huge mirror that I hadn't had a chance to notice before. He hadn't requested help to dress, which contrasted with my first few days here.

—There will be a guard stationed at the entrance. Anything you need, he will assist you. The doctor will come to see you in the afternoon and perform the necessary treatments, as well as tell you what you should consume to improve,— the king informed me before he left.

The door to the chambers opened many times throughout that day. Although I thought I wouldn't see the king again, he was only absent for three hours.

During that time, Knight, escorting the kitchen slaves, and the doctor who brought me medicines, tried any of the soups or items that I had to put in my mouth that were offered to me.

—I have to ask, why would someone want to poison me?— I asked between sips, holding the spoon to avoid spilling the liquid, as my joints were still trembling.

—You'll have to ask the king that,— Knight replied, always loyal, not one for gossip, and probably the one who raised the king if it was true that his parents were no longer alive.

I had heard of his brother Ta, but I never really met him because I never left the harem.

—He's not going to tell me anything,— I affirmed in a low voice, as Knight leaned over my seated form and removed the tray of food.

—If he won't tell you, why would I?— Knight asked.

It was an excellent way to silence me, but I simply shrugged and waited for him to leave so I could look out the window and watch the passing of the hours.

The soups I had seemed to contain some kind of sedative or something that helped me sleep. Despite a growing and unfamiliar fear of sleeping, I couldn't help but let the effects of the potions take hold of me, and I fell asleep when it seemed to be around five in the afternoon.

My dreams, once again, were plagued with poison, with people who had my face but were not me, and of the king, of course. Of him, telling me he would protect me and of me smiling gratefully at him when in reality I couldn't help but suspect any selfless act.

"1...2...3...
In the depth of the earth,
where roots seek their embrace,
where silence turns to murmur,
there resides the elemental of silver,
guardian of the oldest secrets.

His hands mold the rock,
with the skill of an invisible artist,
he whispers in the murmurs of minerals,
dancing among crystals and veins.

Liquid silver in his clay veins,
shines with the radiance of the moon,
mirror of buried dreams,
witness of the silent history of the earth.

Oh, elemental of silver, ethereal being!
Your steps are like light in the gloom,
your presence, an echo in the darkness,
guiding those who seek the truth.

In every vein, in every vein,
in the depth of every cave,
your essence shines,
reflecting the beauty of the hidden.

You are the essence of the eternal,
the strength of the immutable,
in your being lies wisdom,
the magic that only the earth can offer.

May your secrets remain guarded,
under the skin of Mother Nature,
and may your light continue to shine,
in the hearts of those who worship you.

1...2...3...."

A crystalline laughter tinkled in my ears and I slowly opened my eyes when the sound of the morning birds woke me up again. It must be nice for the king to wake up to the sound of those birds every day.

My head hurt slightly, but at the same time I felt somewhat revitalized. The smell of mint in the room was faint, and when I tried to move my body to the side, I was greeted by the sight of the king, asleep on his back on the other side of the bed.

This bed was so huge that we could maintain a safe distance when we slept. In fact, my back and my whole body seemed to thank me for putting it to sleep in such a comfortable bed. Once again, I had before my eyes the king's white and bare chest, who seemed to be sleeping only in pajama pants. He breathed softly, and his expression told me he was still asleep. I sat up slowly, trying to move as little as possible to not disturb his sleep. I needed to pee and didn't know where to go.

I sat and surely lasted sitting on the edge of the bed for a reasonable amount of time until the dizziness stopped. When I was able to stand up, I walked to the door and, hoping not to be wrong, knocked. To my relief, the door opened slowly and Knight's dark eyes looked at me questioningly.

I conveyed my need in a low voice, and Knight nodded. He entered the chambers with steps that seemed to belong to an especially agile feline and took something resembling a robe from the stone wardrobe, without disturbing the king's sleep.

Only when I saw the garment did I realize what I myself was wearing and that it was not at all the clothes I put on the last time I was in my own chambers or conscious.

How had I changed clothes? I had on some loose pants similar to the king's, but mine were emerald green. I also had a vest of the same silk on me and my arms were bare. I couldn't have put this on while asleep. So there were only two options left, which I didn't want to think about right now, when Knight was passing me this pajama robe, decorated with jewels and long to the calves.

I let him help me put it on and followed him when he made sure I wore the corresponding slippers. It was cold in this country early in the morning, so it was a good idea that Knight passed me the robe. The king's soldier led me down a long hallway and when he stepped aside, he indicated that there was the bathroom.

Like everything in this palace, which belonged to the king, this bathroom was ideal for even sitting down to do one's business with pleasure. I did my thing, trying not to focus on the fact that this place also had inlaid jewels like the Thai bathroom.

I came out thanking Knight with my eyes and we walked back to the king's chambers. I secretly appreciated his company because I had a kind of anxiety attack that I had to control for my own good. I supposed that only when you were close to death could you start to fear it in that way. Having experienced the poison, I felt that someone could try to finish the job, even in the presence of the imposing Knight. In reality, I didn't fear death, but rather what lay beyond, because being something unknown, it filled me with fear. Knight waited until I entered and closed the door quietly, presumably hoping not to disturb the king's sleep.

I took off the robe and, walking as steadily as I could, got back into bed, feeling like I didn't know what to expect from this sudden and strange change in my routines. I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would come, and fervently wishing the king wouldn't wake up while I was awake. I realized it was easier for me to be asleep when he was conscious.

—Where did you go?—

Purpose not fulfilled, I thought with annoyance as I opened my eyes.

—To the bathroom. Mr. Knight accompanied me,— I quickly said, looking at his sleepy face and closing my eyes quickly so he wouldn't see how nervous I was to be in this space, which, although spacious, was close enough to him.

I took a few breaths, trusting that the king would fall back asleep, but the movement of the bed told me otherwise. I thought he had gotten up, but when I opened my eyes to check, I found myself face to face with him, assuming the same position I had, lying on my side and facing each other.

—Could you walk?—

—I think so, I didn't feel dizzy or... anything— I answered as sincerely as I could, even though I was looking him in the eyes.

—The doctor's potions were effective then,— he said.

I nodded and sighed, closing my eyes again, a sign that I wanted to continue in silence. But again, the king shattered all my assumptions by telling me, in a hoarse voice from sleep:

—I'll stay here with you today.—

I fell silent because I didn't know how to respond, and I didn't want him to notice that his information was surprising me too much.

—That... isn't necessary,— I said, hoping my voice sounded strong enough to convince him. It wasn't necessary for me, I didn't know if it was for him. Perhaps he had received some information that someone would try something against me again?

—I have to protect you. Of course it's necessary,— the king said, with what I identified as patience in his tone. Surely, having to repeat the same thing to me over and over again made me look like a fool, but it was inevitable for me.

He kept insisting on protecting me, and by reaffirming it now, it became more and more real. I didn't know what his concept of protection was, but being with me all the time seemed to fall within this criterion, and I knew that if that happened, and with him in front of me all the time, nothing could prevent me from starting to develop feelings for him, which obviously wouldn't be reciprocated.

—Sorry, but I still don't know what that means,— I said, like the last time, trying to buy time.

—I had a vision,— the king confessed without shame, putting his bare arms behind his head to lean back. I also believed in the meaning of dreams, but I didn't understand what he could have dreamed that led him to the conclusion he reached and seemed to be communicating to me at that moment. —In my vision, I was told that I have to protect you. Buddha always finds ways to reach us, and I will not deny his designs if it is something easily within my reach.—

—How... did Buddha manifest in your dreams?— I asked when he fell silent.

—I don't have to tell you,— was his curt response, and I sealed my lips before another question that might receive the same backlash emerged.

—Yes, sir,— I said slowly.

—For the same reason, you will be what you were destined to be. The king consort, you will be with me at all events, day and night you will sleep in the same room as me,— he continued.

—We don't have to be in each other's presence all the time,— I quickly said, and I must have sounded as uncomfortable as I felt.

—Surely, it is I who has to determine that. After all, it was under my powerful roof that you were poisoned,— he said with a forceful voice of authority. I fell silent because it felt more like a command or royal edict than a statement of action.

I couldn't continue arguing. And all because of the immovability of his decision. I asked Buddha, as he appeared in the king's dreams and gave him that vision or order to protect me, to appear to me and give me the strength to endure that closeness without desiring anything more than just that protection.

As the afternoon progressed, I wished for Knight's company to help with my personal hygiene tasks, like brushing my teeth and washing my face. The next day, I would tell the king that I wanted to bathe, and he would probably send his trusted knight to accompany me to the Thai bathroom.

But it wasn't Knight who helped me. In fact, I thought to myself that the king suddenly didn't look so much like a king but more like a very professional valet. Without allowing me to stand up, he handed me a wooden brush with bristles made of mint leaves to brush my teeth. He provided damp towels for me to wash my face, and we repeated the process for my hands before dinner arrived.

I wasn't very hungry, but that didn't stop me from consuming some delicious soup, although slightly acidic, a sign that it probably contained some kind of potion or remedy for my discomfort.

Finally, at night, the king returned to bed next to me and, getting comfortable, fell into a deep sleep minutes later. I didn't surrender to sleep as quickly because his presence unsettled me. But eventually, sleep overcame me.

When I woke up, I didn't remember dreaming anything, which was a relief. I stretched, and as I looked around the room, feeling like I was reliving the previous day's events all over again, the king was at the window, shirtless and gazing peacefully at the garden outside.

My movements disturbed him, and without saying a word, the king walked to the other side of the bed, specifically towards the wardrobe. His body blocked what he was taking out, but when he turned around, I noticed it was clothing, towels, and some bottles of essences. I was puzzled by his actions, especially because he was only half dressed. When four slaves entered, each carrying a wooden bucket filled, some with boiling water and others with cold water, and an additional slave carried another bucket secured with various things to avoid burning his hands, because it contained hot coals, I began to realize what was happening. I didn't need to see how they set up the artistic screen and started preparing the ivory bathtub in the king's chambers, pouring water into it and placing the coals at the head and foot of the tub.

No.

No and no.

The two bowed to the king and said something to him in a low voice, but he patiently declined and asked them to leave. Then he turned to me.

—Try to get up. I will help you bathe,— he said, taking a few steps. My face must have turned red with horror because he laughed at my reaction.

—I can... bathe myself,— I said shakily. I couldn't go through the same thing as the Thai bathroom again; I didn't want my body on display for his eyes.

—Sure, but today I will bathe you,— he said.

—That... isn't part of the protection,— I stammered, hoping he would understand.

—Of course it is. The Thai bathroom will be put aside for now. Until we confirm that it is safe. Besides, I'm sure you want to bathe,— he said confidently. He seemed to know me a little better because, indeed, he was right. I wanted to bathe and get rid of the smell of poison that was probably only in my imagination but still made me uncomfortable.

I sat on the edge of the bed, and the dizziness from dehydration made my head spin for a few minutes. The king advised me to take several deep breaths, and doing so helped the dizziness subside. I understood that the bathtub was ready for me, so we wouldn't have to be naked so close to each other. But I should have known it wouldn't be that easy because, by the way he stood in front of me, the king was waiting for me to undress from the luxurious sleepwear I had on. Not wanting to disappoint him, I reluctantly removed the silk vest, immediately missing its protection on my skin. I wasn't imagining it; this time too, the warmth of the king's dark gaze traveled over me. I couldn't have looked very attractive at that moment, after several hours without eating and probably pale from being poisoned, my whole body must have been in the same condition.

A hand suddenly appeared in my field of vision, and I looked up, hoping the speed of that movement wouldn't make me dizzy. He was offering his hand to help me stand up. I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to touch his skin, but I knew it had to be done, so I took his hand and, with extreme delicacy, stood up using it for support. Nausea, horrible and inevitable, but another round of rapid breaths helped. I supposed it was because I hadn't eaten anything substantial the day before, and when I went with Knight, I still had some of my pre-poisoning energy left. I tried to walk, but the king stopped me, forcing me to do the same.

—The pants,— he said quietly, giving them a significant look. For a horrible moment, I felt like telling him to take them off for me, but that could be misinterpreted, so with a slight movement in my hips, the pants slid down my legs, so silky they were.

And there I was, once again, naked in front of the king, who, as he had accepted he would "protect" me, was helping me bathe. I couldn't make the association between the two concepts, but what did I know? I knew nothing about these protection techniques. Certainly, it wasn't something I had read about in the books I had managed to read.

I struggled with myself to control my body's response to his closeness, in this vulnerable state (not only because I was recovering from poisoning).

The king's hand burned my waist as I used it for support to walk. I tried not to stumble, as I would be mortified for the rest of my life if I fell, in that state of undress and using the king as a human crutch. Many parts of my naked body would come into contact with his.

Behind the screen, there was also a window facing the mountainous surroundings. Along with the water in the bathtub and the overall setting, I realized why the king also enjoyed bathing there.

With embarrassment, and with his help, I finally slipped my naked body into the warm water, sighing inevitably with relief as I was enveloped by that comfortable warmth. Baths were definitely one of the pleasures that most humans enjoyed.

I closed my eyes and allowed my tired body to absorb the comfort. I enjoyed it until I felt the water pouring over my head, reminding me of who was in front of me. The king seemed lost in thought as he poured water over me, so I assumed he wanted me to do what one is supposed to do when bathing. I looked at the towels and the bottles of special soaps, recognizing the blue soap bottle, with its essence and color that I quite liked.

I applied it to the towel and began scrubbing as quickly as my weakened limbs allowed. I had been in this situation before (naked and bathing in front of the king), but I was still as flustered as the first time. It could be said that there was nothing of me that the king hadn't already seen, but that didn't make me feel any less nervous. Like an idiot, I wanted to be attractive in his eyes, even though he had clarified what it was that attracted him to me.

Trying to stop those foolish butterflies in my head, I continued washing with the same care he was pouring water over me. I took the additional bottle that contained that special substance only for washing the hair and applied it to my hand.

The king must have noticed the exhaustion in my arms, because before I could pour the thick substance with a scent of peppermint and spearmint onto my head, he stopped pouring water and took my hands, removing the substance from them. Then he placed it on my crown and began to rub gently, like when he washed his own hair. I couldn't help but relax as I found the rhythm and movement of his fingers on my head almost therapeutic.

There was a lot of foam on my head, and I didn't notice when the servants entered again to replace the water. I rinsed my head and the rest of my body, trying to clean my intimate parts as quickly and discreetly as possible, hoping he wasn't scrutinizing me. Finally, when I was completely finished, a fluffy and warm towel was wrapped around my dripping naked figure, and only then did my heart experience a little relief, resting from the king's penetrating gaze.

I glanced at the mountain where a special shine caught my attention and walked back to the bed, where the servants placed the change of clothes. To my dismay, the king also helped me put on the garments, and I couldn't help his fingers brushing against my skin on more than one occasion.

I sat in an ornate armchair that the king had ignored that morning, strategically placed to make the most of the morning light.

—It's the same morning when the soldier Korn took the genie outside,— I said out of the blue, and I could tell the king paused in his movements. I preferred not to look at him as I settled my back against the cushions of the ornate chair and gazed outside, absorbing the beautiful array of colors.

—So he took him outside?—

Initially, I thought the king wouldn't fall for my attempt to thank him and would misinterpret it, but the slow curiosity in his voice told me everything I needed to know; he accepted this, regardless of whether it was my gratitude or for whatever reason...

Chapter Text

King Wichapas

"Korn slowly woke up from his dream, which, if he recalled correctly, had never been so deep. As expected, he had dreamt about the genie and childishly wondered how he would present what he himself knew about the human race. He didn't know what drove him to this impulse, except his own stupidity, because he highly doubted that a genie with the kind of powers the one in his house possessed in his small isolation truly knew what existed in the real world, apart from humans with few scruples.

When he focused his newly opened eyes on the strange genie, he saw him standing in front of his small, makeshift shelf where he kept some of his few and most prized possessions. The only books he had acquired throughout his life and the one inherited from his grandmother, which the genie held delicately in his hands; a copy of "The Little Prince."

Unbeknownst to the genie, he held the only connection left to Korn's past. His grandmother had raised him and passed away just as Korn came of age. With nothing else to hold onto, he became a soldier hoping to make a career in that profession and eventually become some sort of colonel or the like.

That was two years ago, but he could still remember that his grandmother always insisted that, no matter how much he encountered the worst of the world and the human race, he must always preserve his own humanity.

He still retained his humanity, but he was witnessing the worst of the world, with its wars and the massacres they entailed, and he doubted he could endure it much longer without compromising his own humanity.

"I try, grandma."

At the moment, the only thing his eyes could see was the strange silver glow emanating from the genie dressed in almost translucent clothing, while his dark eyes scanned the words printed in the old edition of the book.

When the genie noticed Korn's changed breathing, he looked at him, closing the book with all the delicacy Korn expected for that old relic of his grandmother, as if somehow the genie knew that, at least for Korn, the book was something valuable.

―Good morning,― Korn whispered, almost instinctively, and the genie, still looking at him, tilted his head slightly, not understanding him. ―It's customary to greet when the day begins,― said the soldier, straightening up and rubbing his sleepy eyes.

―Oh― was the genie's response, putting his finger to his chin as if pondering something. ―And how should I respond?― Katha had a look like that of a student, ready to jot down anything a teacher might say.

―It depends on the time of day――

―Like good morning, good afternoon, or good night, right?― asked the genie, and Korn nodded. ―How polite.― After saying that, Katha looked at his hands and the book he held between them. ―It's very beautiful,― he said innocently.

Korn got up from the makeshift bed and approached where the genie stood.

―It was a gift from my grandmother.―

―She must have been a very wise lady.―

Grandma would have laughed if someone had classified her that way. Although she could read, her life was spent almost in slavery, and she considered herself uneducated. Korn didn't know, but he couldn't help feeling some gratitude towards the abnormal creature.

―She did what she could,― He said to avoid thinking with nostalgia about the person who raised him.

The genie nodded thoughtfully, and for a horrible second Korn had the desire to ask the genie to bring his grandmother back. But then he remembered how devout she was and that doing so would be like bringing her back from her place of eternal rest, which Grandma would not forgive.

―I can bring her back― said the genie, reading his mind.

―Don't do that,― Korn replied, forgetting his nostalgia and reacting defensively. The genie was unmoved by his request, which confirmed to Korn that indeed, the genie could read minds. He just hoped he hadn't thought of doing it the previous day, when he found the genie ephemeral and attractive.

―I'm sorry. It's part of my abilities,― said the genie. He didn't bow in apology because he probably didn't know how. ―It's useful when masters don't know what to ask for.―

―Do you read their minds to influence their decisions?― asked the soldier, somewhat annoyed, turning to go to the kitchen. He definitely needed coffee.

―No. I read their minds to give voice to what the masters themselves don't know to ask for.―

―And what do you read in me?― said the soldier, trying to control what he never did; his mind.

―It's useless to try to close your mind. Anyway, I'll be able to see it,― said the genie, chuckling, which irritated Korn. He wanted to tell the genie to shut up and go back into his lamp. But having been a prisoner of war once, he knew what it felt like to be trapped and somehow didn't want the genie to be confined in the lamp.

―If this is a game to get me to waste a wish asking you not to read my mind, it won't work.―

―You're too suspicious,― was the genie's response. Imperceptibly, the creature walked towards the small kitchen where Korn had set the coffee to boil.

―That's why I'm still alive.―

To the genie, it was evident that this new master was special. Given the hours that had passed, it was time for him to start asking for things, and he assumed this based on all his years of service. But being a magical creature, he shouldn't make assumptions and simply comply with the wishes of the master until the allotted amount was exhausted.

During the night, Katha had reviewed in his magical mind the way the soldier saw him; as if he were beautiful. The soldier's thoughts were not as clear as those of other humans, but when they surfaced, it was as if they shouted.

The genie didn't see himself as beautiful but simply existential. He simply lived in the lamp and waited for the new master. In fact, with some precognition, he had predicted that his new master, the cruel Phis, would ask for things like conquering the world and the like or worse, would use Katha and the lamp to figure out its origins and way of funcioning. 

But Katha couldn't influence destiny, which was as changeable as the seasons. Due to a misstep of fate's wheel, the lamp ended up in the hands of villagers and then in the hands of the soldier.

He couldn't help but perceive his own curiosity growing about what would happen in this summoning arc. Or how long he would stay with this strange human. He could only go with the flow and the movements of those wheels that governed their own cycle.

He had to admit that in the past, he used his magical discernment abilities with which he was created to hasten interactions with humans, influencing them to quickly ask for their desires and return to his lamp. Master Korn was right to conclude that when Katha revealed that ability. He shouldn't ask him to trust him because this excessively cautious person wouldn't.

―I won't use that power on you,― he said, but somehow he wanted to get a little closer to the new master. ―What is your age, master?― Katha asked after a few moments of silence.

―Don't call me that,― Korn replied, annoyed. The genie bowed his head in a sign of submission, storing in his prodigious memory that the soldier-master didn't like to be addressed with the honorific he knew. He had always called his previous masters that way and none had complained, but this new master kept doing things differently.

―I'm sorry,― he said, unsure of what else to say. He heard the soldier sigh, still disgruntled.

―Just... I'm not your master...― the soldier tried to explain, feeling somewhat touched, because he knew well what it was like to have a servile attitude without being sincere, only out of the obligation to obey. Suddenly, he felt uncomfortable having someone address him in that way. ―Just call me by my name―

―Not even Kuhn...― the genie began to say, but Korn shook his head.

―No... if you call me Kuhn, from now on I'll just call you 'genie.' I'll forget you told me your name and won't use it for anything.―

Hearing his name from the new master's mouth was quite pleasant, especially because no one had ever used it before. If he wanted that to continue, he would have to give up using honorifics with the soldier.

―Korn...― Katha said slowly, savoring each letter with his magical mouth. The soldier nodded, also comfortable with abandoning these strange formalities. Then he walked over to the small wardrobe and stopped in front of it before opening it.

―I suppose, unlike humans, you don't need to bathe, am I right?― Korn asked. The genie agreed.

Korn opened the wardrobe and took out some clothes that belonged to him. If he wanted to attend to his personal errands while showing the genie the human world, something he often did on his days off, he couldn't allow the genie to walk around dressed as he was now (or not dressed, if he looked closely).

Katha looked at the clothes Korn had selected for him. Although the garments smelled clean, they somehow retained the scent of his new master, to whom he had been exposed all night and with whom he now felt quite familiar.

All the humans he had met smelled different, and he had never been particularly attracted to any of their scents. But Master Korn smelled refreshingly sweetly bitter at the same time.

He gladly received the garments and, without saying another word, snapped his fingers and all the pieces of clothing he was wearing disappeared. Korn didn't know what the true form of a creature like this should be, but the genie seemed to have adopted the form of an adorable male body, and the sight of every part of that body was quite well engraved in his retinas.

―When you do that, make sure no one sees you,― Korn said, coughing to disguise his embarrassment. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen his own naked body many times. It was just that the genie's body was rather... beautiful.

―Why...?― Korn heard the genie's voice somewhat muffled, as if trying to speak with a piece of clothing over his mouth. As if he were struggling with something.

―Don't you know what modesty is?―

―The... what?― More forced voice and snorts. Korn had no choice but to turn around and look. He realized the genie was trying to shove his head into the boot of a pair of pants, obviously without success.

Exasperated and trying not to look too much, Korn began to teach the genie the details of human dressing rituals from that time.

*

People who knew the soldier in the small town looked at him strangely when they saw him accompanied by someone. Walking with a grown man who behaved like a child.

Katha looked around and Korn hoped others would simply think the genie was some kind of tourist who had never visited a town and that explained his unusual behavior.

The genie marveled at the hustle and bustle, the colors, and the different scents of the new environment. He looked at street food with bright eyes and also at the pastry shops, as if the colors and textures he could discern with his eyes deeply fascinated him.

Korn bought him some rice cakes and cherry pie among the things that made the genie seem to glow more when he looked at them. Having no family and living the life of a private soldier, from time to time he used his savings to buy the food he liked the most and some clothes he never really had a chance to wear.

They went to several clothing stores and the genie chose the most colorful and striking ones, unlike what Korn would choose, who always liked monochromatic colors like black and white. Korn tried to dissuade him from those colors, but that, as the smiling genie said, was encouraging him to use a wish, and Korn didn't want any of that at the moment.

So he let the genie derail into joy and forgot one of his most important rules, and that was to always stay alert. If he hadn't been distracted, he would have noticed that someone was following them and watching their behavior with growing suspicion."

The sound of birds slowly pulled me out of my reverie, or at least the kind of fantasy that Jakapan's voice had the power to produce in me. My body felt rested as if instead of being attentive to the course of the story, I had slept and dreamt peacefully. Next to me, as I identified, Jakapan was lying on his back, looking at the vaulted ceiling of the royal bed, concentrating on giving voice to his memories.

I was beginning to identify a pattern in our interactions with the stories, and it was that just when the plot began to change, the turns of the planet made Jakapan's life extend one more day. It wasn't something my husband did consciously; it was rather the course of the days.

―Time to be king?― Jakapan asked.

I made an effort to listen to him, and for a split second, I thought he said something else, but in the end, that strange question came out of his mouth.

―Not really,― I said in response. ―But I have my obligations―

I was going to say more important ones, but I felt I shouldn't, and my own apprehension stopped me. I got up to look at the sunrise as I always did and heard Jakapan's movements behind me as he rose in bed. I knew I should have let him rest the night before, but curiosity got the better of me, and it kept getting the better of me. That wasn't protecting him, but I didn't want my attachment to keep growing because I remembered perfectly the inexplicable panic I felt when Jakapan's death was much more tangible than just words. That could only mean that my apprehension had reasons to spare.

"Loving him isn't bad," my inner voice said, and that statement was repeated. But I couldn't, or maybe I didn't want to listen to it. It was enough to do what I did, influenced by that force that insisted the previous days that I should protect Jakapan. Not even then could I have known the impact each of my words had on Jakapan.

The boy finished sitting and not perceiving any more sounds and movements, I looked irresistibly at the bed. Jakapan made no effort to disguise that he was looking at me, but in his eyes, I didn't identify the normal neutrality and courage as always. In those dark eyes, all there was was plain vulnerability and something I interpreted as pain. I quickly mentally reviewed what I could have said for him to take on that expression, but nothing came to mind.

Without wanting to delve into any of it, I began to move around the rooms to get the clothes I would wear that day. Previously, Knight brought some of my duties to solve them from here, keeping my word. 

―A king always fulfills his obligations,― Jakapan mentioned enigmatically.

No. 

It could be interpreted as an obligation to fulfill, but I knew it was something more. Something that had to do with my dreams and the strange presences in them. I didn't reply, just approached and began to do something that I secretly found quite pleasant and evocative.

I continued to notice that my presence and closeness disturbed Jakapan, as before. Unlike in the past, I couldn't flee from what his own proximity produced in me. This gave me the opportunity to grow more and more under that spell under which I was.

At those moments we were not in the ancient palace but in my quarters, where I couldn't flee.

With satisfaction, I found that Jakapan wasn't as pale as before. I wanted to believe that he was recovering satisfactorily, and that made me proud of Knight's and the doctor's reaction capacity. Perhaps I was also proud of Jakapan's survival instinct; although he lived under the constant threat of death behind him, he was strong enough to survive. Yes, I should be satisfied with his paleness reducing. 

"He must live," the voice in my head continued to say, a voice that was strangely similar to Jakapan's, but at the same time different, more tinkling... and nostalgic.

Maybe all this was because I, the most likely architect of Jakapan's death, was now called upon to keep him alive.

*

The silence in the room was only broken by the sound of rain outside and the scratching of my ink pen on parchment. The drops of water had a soothing effect on me. Gas lamps illuminated my bedroom, and I momentarily set aside the letter I was signing to stretch my hands and neck, deeply inhaling the scent of rain from the gardens.

Upon lifting my gaze, I was met with the sleeping figure of my husband. Jakapan lay covered by sheets from the waist down, his arms uncovered, his fair skin contrasting with the turquoise silk pajama vest.

In the week since we had fallen into this routine, I observed that Jakapan looked good in a wide range of colors. Unfortunately, he had also experienced fluctuations in his health. This prevented me from asking him to continue recounting the story from where we had left off. Jakapan had brief periods of lucidity and long stretches of incoherence, alternating with sleep and bouts of rambling.

The botanist's recent visit confirmed a fear: the poison had not been entirely purged from Jakapan's body. According to the botanist, it was a special kind of poison that couldn't be eliminated with elixirs and antidotes alone but required a specific potion made from Winter Amaryllis, Cidamen, and Espatifilio flowers―that only grew in winter and far away from the palaca, where there were no climatic fluctuations, in other countries. The botanist would travel to acquire them. Meanwhile, we had to keep Jakapan alive.

I kept this information hidden from the storyteller, but I couldn't hide my distress, leading him to believe it was another reminder of how tethered he was to me, or something equally hurtful. I didn't have a clear answer as to why I chose to keep it from him. After all, it was highly relevant information to him, but I vividly remembered Jakapan's initial suspicion when he was poisoned: that I had done it.

I detested even recalling the completely cold and emotionless look he gave me when he entertained that thought. It was something I did not wish to repeat.

In my dreams, the warnings persisted. It seemed my subconscious wanted to save Jakapan from my enemies, as much as I did.

The sound of retching brought me back to the chambers. I hurried from my makeshift king's desk to bring him the metal basin where he attempted to vomit without success. The botanist's potion currently ingested kept the food inside him for nourishment but did nothing for the nausea. When it was over, Jakapan lay back and breathed deeply.

―I'm sorry,― he rasped. I expected him to ask why this was still happening when the poison was supposed to be gone from his body. Instead, there was such resignation and weakness in his voice that I couldn't help but feel angry, not at him, but at those responsible for this unfortunate turn of events.

All of Knight's investigations pointed to Naphat's family. Together with their bounty hunters, they gathered evidence and information that implicated them. Yet, despite almost everything being resolved, the palace spy, whose presence was also identified in the investigations, remained unidentified. We didn't know who it was. We continued in that relentless search, so until that was resolved, my protection of Jakapan had to continue. If there was a spy in the palace determined to kill him, I had to neutralize that threat because it was my duty. My duty and my pleasure.

―It's okay,― I replied, unconsciously stroking his forehead, helping him settle back into bed. The symptom seemed to awaken him fully, and as he had done throughout these days, his eyes met mine almost inquisitively.

―Do you think Soldier Korn will develop feelings for the genie?― he asked out of nowhere, his voice hoarse.

―How could I know?― I replied neutrally, fully aware that, indeed, I suspected. Suddenly, I was convinced that the stories had a strange and predictable pattern. But that didn't diminish my curiosity. Of course, I spent many hours speculating on what would happen. But in the end, the only one or ones who had an acceptable answer were Jakapan and the stranger who revealed all those stories to him.

―Well, yes. That will happen,― Jakapan sighed with something akin to resignation.

―Because they are destined?― I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. I needed some happiness, but I knew that, based on what the stranger told Jakapan, the happiness that would come would be as fleeting as the words. Jakapan smiled weakly, nodding. He seemed quite content that I had listened to him the first time when he said all that about the fate of King Samamun and Nim.

―Do you want to know?― 

He was tempting me with that question, and we both knew it. But I couldn't find my anger anywhere. Not when my own defenses against this boy were lower than before.

―Do you want to tell me?― was my response. We stared into each other's eyes for long seconds until he finally relented.

―Of course― he said, adjusting himself so he sat up and leaned against the cushioned backrest of our bed. I sat at the foot of it, my back against one of the columns that supported all the drapes, looking at Jakapan intently, secretly grateful for this period of lucidity.

"Master Korn was very kind. That was all Katha could think when the eventful day ended, and he himself knew more about humans than ever before. He was now a genius who had clothes, something called footwear, and had tasted all kinds of foods and flavors while walking freely among people.

As a magical creature, he had no knowledge of the feeling of happiness, but he supposed it must resemble what he was experiencing. Out of nowhere, he wished to embrace the new master and promise never to leave him, but he couldn't. He was bound by the chains of the magic that created him.

Could acquiring a human appearance have something to do with the myriad emotions that were unknown to him but at the same time strangely familiar?" 

He noticed that Master Korn (although he had asked not to be called that, in his magical mind he had no other way to address him) smiled very little, and that only a few of his own impulsive actions made him do so (like showing his white teeth).

―Katha...― he heard the master's voice, and when he turned, he realized he had been staring at him fixedly all that time.

―I'm sorry,― Katha apologized, withdrawing his gaze from the master and looking around with bright eyes.

Meanwhile, Korn noticed the genies's gaze on him the whole time, causing a strange tingling sensation to spread throughout his chest.

Moments later, they heard a knocking on the door, and both the genie and the master looked at each other with something akin to fear and suspicion.

―Pretend you know me,― Korn whispered, preparing his service weapon so he could reach it in case of any eventuality.

Unable to stop himself, Katha read the tumultuous mind of Master Korn at that moment, but surprisingly had to withdraw immediately because the instinctive urge to protect him, a magical creature, overwhelmed him completely. It was beyond his understanding; the fact that the master he had known for only a few days would want to protect him was entirely strange to him.

―Hello!― greeted a cheerful voice that Katha found fake. Master Korn seemed to know this person because he invited him in, and the stranger entered as if familiar with the place. He sat on the worn-out furniture. ―It's been a long time, hasn't it?―

―P'Hem,― greeted Korn, not entirely sure why his fellow soldier companion was there on that particular day. ―Indeed, since the assault on Chonburi.― Korn gestured to offer something to drink, but the stranger's eyes had already fixed on Katha with growing interest and disdain.

―And who is this?― disdain colored his voice, evident even to Korn, who found the attitude highly insulting. However, being older, P'Hem restrained himself from pointing it out, especially since he didn't want to draw attention to Katha's presence in his home.

―My cousin. He arrived from Chantaburi the day before yesterday, ― Korn said, trying to adjust the timing so his military leave matched Katha's arrival.

Katha thought Master Korn was very intelligent and kind, but he couldn't say the same about his deception skills. He wasn't sure if the stranger believed him, especially since he could only read the minds of masters, no one else.

―How curious. You never mentioned you had family―

Because he didn't, Korn thought, but didn't say aloud. In fact, the distant cousin relationship could divert attention much better than claiming Katha was a brother or something similar.

―We haven't seen each other since we were teenagers. You know how it is, soldiers don't see their families often once we enlist―

―Mm-hmm,― Hem said. The stranger scrutinized the genie dressed as a human. ―So you won't mind if I invite you both for a drink tonight,― he offered out of the blue.

Korn couldn't hide his growing tension. This entire exchange was becoming too strange, starting with P'Hem's unexpected presence. While he wanted to show him many things, it wasn't in his plans for the genie to acquire a social life so soon, especially not involving an activity like drinking, given the uncertain effects alcohol might have on a non-human creature. 

He also didn't want to expose the genie or himself.

―No, thank you. Perhaps another time. My cousin just arrived and the journey was quite long and exhausting. He'll rest for a few days,― Korn said as convincingly as he could.

Hem looked at them again with more than evident suspicion, but finally decided to leave and return soon to reiterate the invitation.

When he closed the door behind Hem, Korn tried not to feel too relieved. P'Hem, although technically an acquaintance, was not really someone close, and it wasn't in Korn's interest for him to take an interest in Katha.

―He's a strange person,― murmured Katha, standing up, surprised that he hadn't spoken a single word but had simply observed and tried to analyze the behavior of the two soldiers.

―Aren't you going to ask me why I have to lie to him?― Korn asked after a moment.

―It's not my duty to understand... Korn's way of thinking,― the genie said awkwardly, refraining from using the honorific "master". He wanted to tell Korn that he had sensed his misguided instinct to protect when he lied to the stranger. But he held back because he had sworn not to use his ability on the master. At the same time, he was surprised to find himself thinking that, despite only interacting with humans for three days, he was already behaving like what he knew of the few he knew.

Korn nodded at the response and told him they would have noodles that night, smiling a little at the genie's excitement.

*

Hem knew it. He tried not to suspect, but ever since he received the completely secret mission from the general's hands, he couldn't stop thinking about the substantial reward offered for finding such a rare request: a functional silver lamp with oil.

The general didn't want to give more details but contacted Hem, who was the best tracker in the army, and he needed more precise information to know if it was worth the risk.

"Oh, it's worth it. And much more," was the answer he received from the general, mentioning that there was reliable information about a silver lamp carved with ancient runes that had the ability to grant wishes. In reality, Hem didn't desire the lamp for himself. If he could get what the general was looking for, he would have all the money he could desire to live comfortably for the rest of his time in the world.

When they entered to exterminate the entire village to prevent any information leaks, the general indicated that he had information about the presence of the artifact in that place. The whole team did as they were ordered, searching thoroughly for the lamp and wiping out all human life in the village.

But he was disappointed when they found nothing remotely resembling what the general described as "the treasure in the hands of unworthy people" – namely, the exterminated villagers.

Although they combed through the entire village, they found nothing in the end. The general was angry, mentioning the wrath that would fall upon everyone from the person who desperately wanted the object for themselves – the person primarily interested in ensuring that no one else but them found the lamp. He said the entire team would be investigated because it was impossible for the provided information to be wrong, leaving only the option that one of the soldiers had taken it for themselves.

Thus, the general confessed to Hem, the chief of chiefs didn't desire the object to grant wishes but to study and replicate it in a way that would bring maximum profit from whoever could acquire the copies.

In the end, although there were these heretical and strange things involved, it all boiled down to money and power. Since the chief of chiefs suspected that one of the soldiers had taken the lamp, by that point whoever had it must have been fully aware of the artifact's special ability.

Noticing Korn's absence during the general massacre and subsequent search raised Hem's suspicions, which he didn't share with anyone at that moment, but planned to with the general later. The general laughed, indicating that the artifact wouldn't choose an ordinary soldier like Jirapat, lacking ambition, to be its bearer. 

But Hem's instincts never failed, and it took him only a day to spy on Korn at that place he called home, where Hem had been only once before. Where Korn spent his leave days.

It only took him another day to notice the presence of someone else, but Hem never thought that what the foolish Korn would ask of the lamp would be a family member to spend time with; let alone a cousin.

Hem was somewhat confused, but the only clear thing was that the presence of the new inhabitant of the small house and what they did that day was not normal. From what he could deduce, Korn had something to do with the disappearance of the artifact. Poor fool. He had hung himself because instead of following orders, he wanted to keep all the power for himself.

*

―Pajamas,― Korn repeated, watching as the genie struggled with the unfamiliar word. ―Sleepwear,― he tried to make it easier.

―But I don't sleep,― the genie said reasonably.

―Even if you don't sleep, you're going to lie down on the bed and stare at the ceiling if necessary. I can't have you staying up all night again, that would attract attention from outsiders.―

Katha thought Master Korn was quite peculiar, but he couldn't openly disobey him, even if all he had to do was fulfill wishes and nothing more. So when he put on what Master Korn called sleepwear, Katha sat on the makeshift bed and watched every move of the soldier as he prepared to sleep.

When Master Korn fell asleep, the genie dedicated himself to watching him, from the moment the dim light went out until everything was illuminated by daylight. All that time led him to the sad conclusion that he didn't want to separate from Master Korn, but inevitably he also wondered what would happen on the day when Master asked for wishes and they had to part ways.

Chapter Text

King Jakapan

I didn't want to delve significantly into how much my life changed since everything disrupted my normalcy. If I had feelings for the king before, his proximity those days made whatever I felt for him grow disproportionately, though I tried to suppress it. I knew well that the suspicion that the poisoning wasn't accidental made me distrustful, but that did nothing to stop me from developing feelings for him. Although having him close affected me, I greatly enjoyed waking up in the morning and seeing him sleeping in the same bed with me; I couldn't help but feel happy.

There surely existed some name for what was happening to me (I was falling in love with my captor) and possibly the person who might most want my death. In reality, mentally, I was never quite sane. Mom and Grandma could attest to that, but with these actions, surely I was exceeding my own mental health. 

I found it strange that I still felt as if I had just ingested poison when I was actually still consuming potions. Sometimes my stomach hurt and I felt very nauseous. But when I had the opportunity to ask the apothecary who visited me constantly and forced me to take things of different colors, he simply said that my symptoms would eventually subside and that they were remnants of the powerful poison used on me.

So I had to remain silent and try to regain my health, adhering to all the advice and giving up being independent for many things. Part of me enjoyed the king's attention, but the other part remembered the monarch's words mentioning the word "obligation". 

Under no circumstances did I want what tied the king to me to be an obligation.

Anyway, my instincts, which the few times I listened to them did not disappoint me, told me that there was something more to this whole affair, something being hidden from me for reasons I did not know. I decided to go along with whatever would happen from those moments on, trying not to feel hurt by being considered untrustworthy.

There were days when I thought I would die. Days when I wasn't aware of myself due to fever fits, where delusions made me see things in my head that made no sense, like many "I" and many kings Wichapas, in different stages and as far as I could see, different times. 

Surely it was my unconscious mind recreating stories that wandered in my head and to which I was giving voice whenever I could. In other feverish episodes, I was so weak that I couldn't articulate a word and the events recounted were delayed. It all felt as if I were, lacking another word, possessed by something that kept me ill.

But that was another day of lucidity, where I woke up to the sound of nocturnal birds that I had learned to identify, as if it wasn't enough to see and smell the aroma of the flowers that chose the night to open and delight us with their colors and delicious scents.

The king, as always, was at his desk in front of the window, delegating from there, and currently reading an extensive scroll. This whole scene was already familiar to me because it was what he did every day. I sat up in bed and swung my legs to the edge. 

I wanted to walk a bit; if I stayed lying down for too long, surely all my joints would stiffen and it would be worse. After I asked, the king didn't help me walk because I wanted to be independent at least in my daily activities. But bathing still required too much effort for my weakened body to endure, so I couldn't relieve the king of that burdensome task. 

Surely the king already knew my body better than I did and had the habit of bathing every day, a habit he passed on to me and one I secretly enjoyed. They might not have been baths in the luxurious Thai bath, but they were equally pleasurable and relaxing.

I felt very dizzy, but I learned that deep breathing would alleviate it after a few moments. I stood up and finally took the steps I wanted, feeling a slight burning sensation in the upper part of my stomach. I wished for one of Grandma's favorite infusions for stomach pain, but I couldn't access them here. The king's eyes followed each of my movements, although he tried to disguise it behind his scroll.

I sat on the wide window sill and took a deep breath of the night air, almost unconsciously wondering how many more times I would have the opportunity to do this. That night, the full moon provided even illumination as candles perfectly distributed throughout the room.

―How are you feeling?― I heard the king's voice beside me, realizing he had silently moved from his previous position to sit next to me at the window. I felt my weakened heart begin to beat so strongly that I felt it in the pulse of my throat, and I forced myself to calm down before I was completely exposed. I heard a chuckle in my right ear and couldn't help but look in his direction. A playful smile danced on his lips, and I gazed at him for a few seconds, mesmerized by his beauty. I shifted my gaze away and focused on the clear sky.

―I want to continue telling you the story― 

Silence was my response. I knew the king was looking at me. And I also knew he would refuse. But I couldn't allow it. He needed a distraction, and so did I. And taking advantage of the fact that I wasn't ravaged by fever that night, I wanted to talk to him and give him something he liked. 

―I'm feeling better now,― I said quickly, before he could refuse.

King Wichapas, amidst it all, was kind. Otherwise, he would have exerted all his royal power over me and forced me to do this from earlier. But he didn't. Instead, he insisted on making me feel better. It was only fair.

―Go ahead,― was what I heard instead of the "you better not" I was expecting.

"―So that's what's going on,― said the dark and hidden voice of the general to Hem when he reported all the information from that week.

All the while, he followed Korn, who had not yet returned from military discharge duty and had decided to spend all those days entertaining his "cousin" manifested by the wish lamp. From the "fraternal" behavior to the evident desire to protect him.

Of course, he wanted to protect the manifestation. Anything created by the lamp had to be protected. The information he had about the functioning of the artifact remained limited; beyond the fact that it was a creation capable of granting any type of wish.

―I feel that Korn is getting too attached to the creation of the lamp,― Hem commented as a personal observation, still unable to believe that Korn could even feel attachment to something. And in this case, to someone who wasn't even real.

All of this, this espionage and information delivery, had the most mundane of origins. Korn never looked at Hem like he looked at the creation. Hem tried to shake off those intrusive thoughts. It had been a long time since he confessed his foolish feelings to the soldier only to be politely rejected.

There he was, admitting that everything he did now was also to get back at Korn. For being an idiot. Everything shifted from romantic interest to monetary interest, and he decided to focus solely on that. If he couldn't have a happy love life, at least his economic life would be.

―Well. Let him get used to it; it won't make any difference if we take the lamp away now or in a few months when the master comes. Continue spying on them. I need all possible information,― ordered the general as he signed the six―month discharge for soldier Korn Jirapat.

*

Korn shifted uncomfortably, or so he thought was the strange sensation; discomfort. Once again, he caught the genie staring at his mouth while they both ate the cookies Korn had decided to prepare that day, as a celebration since he had received notice of a six―month discharge at the best possible time. He didn't find it suspicious either because, according to the information, the entire regiment would be on leave during that time.

It suited him perfectly because he found his new life's work ― entertaining the genie ― quite enjoyable. It allowed him to see that the genie was like a tender puppy learning everything he taught and becoming more human―like each day for Korn, who hadn't been so close to another human during his life.

This change was pleasant, but Korn found some of the genie's attitudes unsettling. Although he tried to tell him and teach him, the creature had no concept of personal space or behaviors that could be considered lascivious. It wasn't bold, but Korn discovered him many times staring, especially at his face and mouth, as if finding every gesture of Korn fascinating.

At first, Korn reproached him for it. But after doing it so many times and the genie finally relapsing, he stopped and allowed the genie to do it, when they were alone.

That night, they were both reading a book, something Korn had loved doing as a child. That night, they looked at the faint letters of a fairy tale; the lovely story of a prince who fell in love with a princess and proposed marriage, sealing the promise with a "kiss of love."

―What is a kiss of love?― Katha interrupted, his eyes shining with curiosity.

Korn felt the urge to smack himself. Of course, that would be the first thing the curious genie would focus on. Without thinking, he blurted out an explanation. Katha seemed so eager to understand the meaning of this concept (which was completely unknown to Korn as well) that he struggled to explain.

―A kiss... it's a contact of lips between humans who... feel something special for each other... um...― He coughed slightly to dispel the unnecessary embarrassment. Even though Katha wasn't human, Korn still felt intimidated. ―It's a contact of lips against another person's skin. Their cheeks...― he clarified quickly and clumsily, sensing that Katha would likely attempt to test what a kiss was.

And he wasn't wrong.

The genie suddenly dematerialized from where he was and appeared next to Korn, planting a warm, wet, and audible kiss on Korn's cheek, adopting afterwards that contemplative expression he wore whenever experiencing something new.

―I don't understand,― he said as one of his brilliant fingers traced Korn's smooth cheek, who remained petrified by the unusual contact. ―Do humans feel that this is special?―

―It's something... of humans,― Korn managed to say, unable to pull away from the genie's presence.

―Of humans...― Katha echoed, still deep in thought. Korn took a breath to continue reading but couldn't utter a word because suddenly the cool touch of Katha's mouth against his own mouth left him paralyzed once more.

There was something magical in that subtle contact. Something that both beings, from different species, notably felt. As if what had just happened was inevitable yet at the same time anticipated. As if their life threads were suddenly entangling uncontrollably.

Like something predestined.

―So that's it,― Katha whispered against Korn's lips, as if they were the most exquisit thing he had ever tasted. ―The softness... the taste...―

Korn knew he should scold him, especially because a non―human creature had stolen his first kiss, but instead, all he felt was everything the genie mentioned in his assessment. He noticed how the genie's beautiful features contracted to form a smile of many volts.

―Can we continue giving each other kisses of love in the future?― Katha asked eagerly.

Korn was on the verge of telling him that those weren't kisses of love, but the genie looked so hopeful that he couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't understand how he didn't tremble to carry out orders of slaughter in the name of his country, yet trembled to bring down a supernatural creature with quite an imagination. It seemed like an impossible sacrilege to carry out.

All his principles and mindset seemed to change when the genie was involved.

Korn didn't want to form an attachment. But after what had just happened, he doubted he could avoid it. He was so unaccustomed to having contact with anyone ― in this case, anything ― that just that contact was creating a strange addiction in him.

What would happen if he asked the genie to love him and stay with him?

Probably Korn would never know what true love was beyond all this that was happening now. His life, being who and what he was, wasn't meant to last long.

Couldn't he enjoy all this while his death came?

But forcing the genie to fall in love with him wasn't his purpose either.

He approached the genie and joined their lips together in an experiment, feeling between their lips how the creature's lips sighed with something akin to joy at the gentle contact.

The genie always wanted to kiss him. And Korn allowed it whenever they could, which meant when they were alone in the house.

They developed routines during those days, exploring the surroundings of the town and all the entertainment the place had to offer. They were creating a bond that wasn't evident to them but was noticeable to the person tasked with following them, spying on them.

That person felt jealousy and frustration escalating. A part of Hem told him not to mention any of that to the general, but his dark and rotten interior persuaded him otherwise.

Because that's how it had to happen. Because in this life, those two souls weren't meant to merge.

They were just a step on the long ladder of destiny.

*

A month passed, and Korn noticed his feelings for the genie becoming special. As he predicted, it was something he couldn't avoid, and he didn't regret it because in his mind, they would remain together for a long time. 

Forever.

Every night, he would read something to Katha until sleep overcame him. Without being asked, the genie would lie down on the bed with him and stay awake, watching over his sleep while embracing him with something akin to affection. The genie continued learning new things. Everything continued in that manner, even after what happened that day. Not even when that happened did Korn feel the courage to stop it and stop the genie.

That day, the creature read alone because Korn was called to fill out some reports at the barracks. When he returned, he found Katha sitting at the dining table, looking with wide eyes at the open book in front of him.

When he heard the door open, his eyes shone even more as he focused them on Korn. Much brighter than every time he saw him.

―I think I just discovered something,― he told Korn when he put the groceries on the table. He looked at the genie, waiting for him to continue saying what he had discovered, but the creature stood up and approached him until they were face to face, very close.

―I feel love for you,― Katha said.

The two remained silent as Katha's words tried to be assimilated by Korn.

It wasn't difficult for Katha to reach that conclusion after reading what the book said and assimilating what they had experienced during that month. Everything in this calling or summoning was different from the beginning, starting with Master Korn's refusal to ask for anything, as any human with two functional neurons would have done. Continuing with Master Korn's desire for the genie to experience human life, which he found quite entertaining, and to get to know him, as a human, as a man, as a master.

He could also notice Master Korn's aura, even though he had forbidden him to read his mind, Master Korn's aura was red, and that was too attractive for him as a genie. In addition to this, Master Korn looked at him as something more, he noticed, as if he were not just a magical creature but as if he truly appreciated him. Like the princes in the books looked at the princesses, as if they loved them. 

Since he couldn't read Master's mind, he didn't know how to interpret the feelings of the master, but he felt that that was not necessary. He could notice that Master Korn liked him. And the feeling was completely mutual.

―You are not human,― Korn said, simply and harshly in response to the ravings of the genie. ―You don't know what love is.―

The genie laughed heartily, fully aware that that was precisely what Master Korn would say. And he didn't plan to argue with him.

―That's what I feel. Nothing you say can change that.―

―Not even if I ask you not to? That you don't believe you love me?―

―Is that a wish you have of the three?― The genie played his best card, causing Korn to deny it with a resounding exclamation like an angry caterpillar.

―For a genie, you're too human― Korn commented, arranging the groceries in the kitchen. The genie continued repeating "I love Korn, I love Korn" in such a happy way that the soldier turned around and put his index finger on his lips. ―You can't go around proclaiming like that.―

The genie pursed his lips, making the dimples in his cheeks more pronounced.

―But here I can, right?―

―Would it serve anything to tell you no?―

―No, unless you ask it as a wish.―

Korn knew he should get angry, simply shook his head and indicated that he would prepare dinner while Katha sang something about loving Mr. Korn.

He shouldn't smile. He shouldn't, and yet, as he added the ingredients to the simmering water, Korn knew he was completely ruined.

*

―Master Phis is on his way. We must hurry ― said the general to Hem as he handed over the final part of his report and heard the general's mocking laughter as he recounted the details of their encounter. Finally, after waiting for so long, the time had come to seize the lamp and everything Korn had created with it.

For Hem, it remained a mystery how Korn continued to live in that hut, or house as he called it. 

During those weeks, he thought that when the fool started asking for things, it would be harder to track him, but nothing changed except the constant presence of the stranger. 

He still lived in that pigsty and dressed in the same plain, unassuming clothes. Perhaps that was why his fellow soldier had attracted him in the past. Because Korn lacked any common sense and was innocent, unlike Hem himself. That innocence, despite being a soldier, would surely lead him to death sooner rather than later.

―What should I do?― asked Hem neutrally, awaiting orders according to the plan those two individuals had. He wanted to inquire about what would happen to Korn, but he preferred not to get involved. It wouldn't be beneficial if any of his current superiors decided to kill him without giving him the reward he had been working so hard for.

He didn't know what he was getting himself into. He was simply another piece in the great chess game of fate. Like the ladder mentioned earlier; just a simple rung.

―Kill Korn,― said the general, looking at him with an intensity that made Hem uncomfortable, ―and rob the lamp.―

An uneasy feeling settled in Hem's chest without any remorse.

―No. If I kill him, I'll inherit the lamp,― Hem said innocently.

―Then you must convince Korn to give it to you. Otherwise, kill him and take it,― the general replied.

In truth, Hem had no desire to get involved in supernatural matters, and he knew the general was fully aware of that.

―I won't do it, general. Korn doesn't trust me. And I can't approach him to steal the lamp without arousing suspicion.―

―Then kill him,― the general smiled grimly, and Hem realized the mistake he had made by refusing from the start. ―Hahaha. Fools will always be fools,― declared the general. ―I always admired your lack of scruples and obvious ambition. But I see now you don't have what it takes to be part of the magical world. Especially Master Phis's world. Very well. If you won't kill Korn, I will,― the general dismissed Hem with a gesture as if he were trash. ―Once Master Phis has the lamp, you will receive your respective reward. You may go.―

And thus, that was how someone's life was decided solely by another without any scruples.

Hem knew that all his actions would lead to this. He just never imagined it would be so soon. 

Now he just had to sit and wait for Korn to die.

*

Katha hugged Master Korn tighter as he writhed in some kind of deep nightmare. Incoherent words escaped his lips, but amidst them, Katha could make out his own name and something resembling Nim.

When he heard the other name mixed with his, he felt something strange, as if somehow Master Korn was speaking of the same person. He tighted his own arms, trying to convey warmth, protection, and comfort to help Master through his nightmare. As far as he knew, one shouldn't wake someone who was dreaming like this. However, his instinct was to wake him to stop his suffering, which was evidently happening in the dream.

Finally, Master Korn calmed down and hugged Katha back, sighing slowly as the nightmare or whatever it was ended, and he slowly woke up.

―What were you dreaming about?― Katha asked, his nose buried in Korn's hair. His master remained still for a few moments as if he didn't want to say.

―That you were leaving,― he said after a moment, deciding to be honest. The genie, after all, had already made his way into his heart.

Neither of them said anything more, at least in that moment, because it was a shared feeling between them; the fear of being separated by a greater force.

To dispel the negativity, Korn decided that later that day, at dusk, he would take the genie to see that brief moment of nature that could evoke sighs from someone so unaccustomed to beauty as Korn himself.

Upon their return from that journey, neither of them returned more peacefully because the information revealed in what was supposed to be a private and emotional moment brought out their darkest emotions.

When Korn opened the door of the small and simple lodging house, someone struck him forcefully on the back of the head, knocking him to the ground and nearly rendering him unconscious. Even with his head spinning, Korn fought back, shouting at Katha to protect himself, but as he struggled with his dwindling consciousness, he heard a hiss and the sound of burning flesh, a sign that Katha was being harmed. 

The person attacking him was much better trained than he was, and it didn't take long for them to render him unconscious after a fierce struggle.

Katha stood petrified as the jagged ends of a magical rope pierced his skin, imprisoning him completely. No one, not even Master Korn, knew of the existence of this method for suppressing magic. It was clear that whoever was behind this had researched and couldn't easily obtain this ancient containment method.

―So, contrary to what we believed, it's not that you're a creation of the lamp. You are from the lamp― said a raspy and sinister voice from the shadows. Katha heard the door close behind them, and though he wanted to move closer to check on Master Korn's well-being, the magic of the rope containing him prevented it, inhibiting any magic the genie could summon.

―Who are you?― he managed to ask despite his constricted throat.

―I serve someone named Phis. I was tasked with delivering the special artifact known as the Lamp of Wishes. He has been trying to capture you for many decades.―

Katha was stunned to hear that name because he hadn't thought he would hear it again during the rest of his slow immortality. Phis used to be a genie, like him. He was until he decided to renounce his nature and make pacts with darkness to perpetuate his existence without fulfilling his role as a genie of wishes. But by going against the nature of his creation, his life should be coming to an end. If what Katha believed was true, Phis was seeking him to absorb his powers. But he couldn't do that if Katha was bound by a contract (as he currently was with Master Korn). 

When the master actual made his wishes, Phis would surely become his new master and merge their magical cores, violating all the rules of the world under which they were created.

Phis would become indestructible, and Katha... Katha couldn't allow that to happen.

But with the noose around his neck, quite literally, he couldn't stop anything unfolding at that moment.

The general eyed Katha's form with something akin to fascination. The rope had revealed the true form of the lamp spirit, the genie hidden beneath the human clothes that idiot Korn had surely made him wear. 

It had feet, but they looked strangely blurred, and its skin emitted an abnormal glow, much like its magical clothing. There would be many replicas of this genie out there granting wishes to the luckiest, stupidest people who stumbled upon them. The general didn't know it yet, but slowly, in his heart, he began to wish he himself owned the lamp and its powers, rather than letting Master Phis take it and replicate it, as he had been told he would.

No one else should have that luck.

He pulled the rope, forcing the genie closer to him. The creature hissed again like an angry cat but, trapped as it was, it could do nothing.

―I wish for Phis to die and have you for the rest of the time― the general pronounced, apparently unaware of the mechanics of using magic. Despite feeling his neck burning, Katha chuckled mockingly.

―You are not my master. I cannot grant you any wish.― The general turned to the figure of Korn and stared at him for a long while.

―I suppose that fool is. Well, not for long. After all, persuasion remains a very useful virtue.―

Hem entered the house moments later and approached Korn's unconscious figure to lift him and throw him over his back to transport him.

―Let's go, Master Phis must be waiting.―"

Toc... toc... toc...

The sound of the door interrupted my storytelling, and we both glanced from our positions to observe the door of the room where only Mr. Knight would dare to knock.

The king made a slight bow to bid me farewell and walked towards the exit to speak privately with Sir Knight. My heart squeezed a little as I considered what would become of the genie and the soldier in the events to come. Surely King Wichapas knew, as well as I did, that the end was near, at least for this arc of the stories the wandering stranger had told me.

It must have been early morning because the purple hue of the sky and the dimming stars were all I could see.

I looked at my pinky finger, where suddenly I felt an unusual warmth. I absentmindedly rubbed it and looked back at the sky, noticing the passage of what the village monk once mentioned as a shooting star.

"I wish for King Wichapas to fall in love with me and not kill me," was the idiotic wish my mind concocted in that moment. I didn't really believe in any of it, but just for that second, I forced myself to believe.

I heard the sound of the door closing and the king walking slowly towards where I stood. His expression was the same as when he left, but I knew and felt that it was different.

―We will have guests soon,― he mentioned out of nowhere, but since none of it affected me, I did nothing. What he said next unsettled me, though. ―My brother is coming. And we must hold a celebration ceremony in your honor―

I couldn't discern if that bothered him, but I felt nervous. It was indeed the first time he had truly mentioned his brother.

―The news that you are still alive is already spreading throughout the kingdom, and apart from celebrating my brother's return, we must make your official presentation according to the precepts established in this monarchy―

Suddenly, I imagined myself surrounded by many aristocrats and feeling like a fly swimming in a bowl of milk.

―I don't want to. But I am obliged by decree,― he said, and I wondered if he didn't want to because I seemed too insignificant to exhibit as his surviving spouse. 

But perhaps he sensed that was what I thought, because he took the trouble to explain what he had refused to explain for all those days. 

―We have certain indications that your poisoning was actually aimed at me,― he said after a few moments. I struggled to believe him, but surely there was more. ―Making a public appearance with my consort may help me discover some weakness in the security breach that allowed the poison into the royal chamber. We have to be present.―

―My condition... won't they notice that I'm not fully recovered? Will that affect your plan?―

―You can use makeup. I'll make sure you're feeling better health-wise on that day ― 

―When… will this event take place?― I asked, and my nerves activated again when he responded that it would be in three days.

I had only three days to come to terms with the fact that I would be in front of a bunch of people I only saw when our wedding ceremony took place.

―Do you think this is a good idea?― I asked, unable to not say it, and noticed his gaze becoming somewhat resolved.

―You have nothing to worry about. I will protect you ― once again, that phrase that twisted my guts with discomfort and joy at the same time.

―Will your life be at risk?―

I don't know why, of all the questions in my head that took the form of words and came out of my mouth as voice, that was precisely the one that did. To me it was clear that it would be better not to know too much. Maybe the king would send me to a dungeon for being impertinent, sooner rather than later.

―No. Knight will not allow it. And I trust him, ― the king said with assurance.

The prospects of a celebration night also excited me apart from the nerves. At least the ones I had once in the village did. They were entertaining, and the closest thing I had after that was my wedding ceremony, which I didn’t enjoy for fear of dying. I nodded and looked towards the dawn again without knowing what would happen next.

The silence continued until the first rays of sunlight appeared on the horizon. The king did not ask me to continue and I knew that for the moment the story would be on hold.

That morning, the king helped me bathe and after that the apothecary, whom I finally learned was called Vor, gave me a series of potions in different states of ripeness and color. Some I had already tried but others not. After that I felt a little more energetic which came in handy for the other visitor that day, a tailor who started taking measurements because new clothes were needed for the event.

I tried not to get too excited, but the king's slow smile when he caught me looking and my excitement gave me away. It was as if suddenly I was in a dream where I was the protagonist and all the attention was focused on me. When my clothes were ready, the next day some of the servants helped me dress, smiling at my excitement and seeming to smile also because of my presence in the palace and when I was finally dressed they left me alone in the dressing room, where there was a full-length mirror with a frame carved with Bengal tigers.

I evaluated my appearance trying not to notice that I had lost some weight compared to how I looked in a similar mirror when I got married. Even the expression on my face changed, from terrified to excited.

Someone knocked on the door of the huge dressing room and a boy I had never seen before came in and as soon as he saw me he made a funny bow of greeting with his hands together. He was as tall as King Wichapas and I stood paralyzed, waiting for the next move. The boy looked at me for long seconds and a movement of his hand revealed the royal emblem in the form of a gold bracelet carved in the shape of a snake. I made a less graceful bow than his in a sign of respect but the boy's giggle made me realize that I was superior in rank, although I didn't really feel that way, and I shouldn't greet him in that way.

―I'm sorry― I apologized, unsure of what else to say. The boy shook his head.

―My brother's scolding is worth it. But I couldn't wait for tomorrow night's presentation―  He smiled broadly, showing all his teeth, which gave me some confidence. ―I'm Ta, the first prince of the kingdom―

―Ja... Jakapan― I said, clearing my throat, and at the same time the boy performed the proper bow of greeting to a consort.

―King Jakapan― he said while making the gesture.

―That... isn't necessary― I cautioned, trying to stop him. His youth made me want to treat him like the children from my village, but I didn't have enough confidence for that.

―In that case...― he approached, bouncing and fluttering around me ―I must offer you my utmost thanks. I don't know who you are, where you come from, or where you're going, but I'm incredibly glad you're here― My eyes must have asked him the reason for his joy, because he kept speaking like a word-making machine ―Haven't you noticed? Of course not. Aside from the obvious fact that you're still alive, you've changed my brother. There's something different about him. I noticed it when I saw him from afar the moment I arrived. I can't say he's the same brother I saw six months ago, the last time I was here―

Could it be that I didn't notice because the king had been with me all the time? I was about to ask Prince Ta what he meant when the door opened without a prior knock, and King Wichapas entered with a slightly irritated expression upon noticing his brother in the same room as me.

Briefly, I wondered what change Prince Ta was referring to when I saw the same irritable king as always.

―I told you to wait for me in the study― hissed the king, and Prince Ta responded with one of those giggles that, like mine, almost closed his eyes.

―Oh, come on. Did you expect me to stay there while you hid this treasure?― He gestured with his head to indicate me, and I felt my cheeks start to burn. Just for that, I wished my paleness would help cover it up.

―Nosy― muttered the king.

―Guilty as charged. But I'm glad I disobeyed you. You're very lucky― declared the prince, looking at me with something I identified as flirtation, although I didn't really know what that was.

―Are you going to stay here, staring at him, or are you going to settle into your room?― the king said pointedly.

―I'm leaving, I'm leaving― said the prince. He turned to me and performed a farewell bow accompanied by a wink that made the king click his tongue and threaten to hit him on the head.

He left me alone with the king, who looked at me with a furrowed brow that soon relaxed, and his dark eyes scanned me from head to toe.

Not being a particularly thoughtful creature, I turned slowly so he could evaluate me,  with a confidence I didn't feel.

I did it so he would evaluate my outfit and waited eagerly for his verdict. When I stood before him again, I realized he had approached stealthily and wasn't evaluating me but simply staring into my eyes.

―Why do you smile at my brother like that and not at me?―

I swallowed hard, almost choking. I coughed to cover it up and tried to come up with a smart enough response. Or one good enough to avoid his scolding.

―Don't say it. Ta is a fool. He's been one since he was little,― he stopped me from saying more, but I decided to speak before the king decided to leave me there with plenty of unanswered questions.

―He thinks you're lucky to keep me alive and says you've changed from what you were six months ago.― I suspected the king had heard that last part. I said all this quickly and then turned back to the mirror, expecting the inevitable laughter I thought I would hear at the sentence I pronounced.

However, I noticed the presence of the king materializing in the mirror, standing behind me.

―I guess we'll find out whether Ta is right or not.―

I wanted to tell him that in my eyes he was still the same as weeks ago. But I would be lying. Either way, it would be presumptuous of me.

―Is this the outfit you'll wear tomorrow?― he asked, and I noticed how his warm fingers brushed against the lace sleeve covering my right arm.

―Y-yes,― I stuttered because the fabric was not enough protection to prevent his touch from evoking sensations in me.

―It looks good,― he praised the clothes and not me. I shouldn't feel disappointed. Not at all. ―It matches my own clothes.―

From what I gathered during our time together, he liked to wear dark colors, so if he decided to dress the same for the event, we would indeed create a curious contrast. I wondered if that was his intention after everything he said about his plan. If I were his enemy, he would surely give me something to think about.

In a movement so fast I couldn't foresee it, I felt his cold lips land on the exposed skin of my neck (I had my hair pulled back in a ponytail), giving me a quick and strange kiss. Then, without saying anything else, he turned around and left.

When he opened the door, I heard a sound like someone stumbling, and I heard the unbelieving laughter of the boy I had met before. It seemed that in being nosy, the king described his brother perfectly. It also made me wonder if all this strange interaction happened because the king knew his brother was listening.

―Nosy!― I heard him call out again before the door closed.

An involuntary smile crept onto my cheeks as I witnessed that amusing interaction.

I remembered my own family and felt a pang of nostalgia, but I held it back. In moments like these, I had to preserve all my composure and not let nostalgia overshadow the best of me.

King Wichapas

When Knight called me for a private conversation at that hour, I knew he had found something. His determined face confirmed it when I closed the door to my room behind me.

―The Varijenat,― he said simply, and I understood. I remembered perfectly well that they were Naphat's family, who became my bitter enemies since what happened with their son. They were behind the attempted assassination of Jakapan. Not only did I have clues from the way they tried to kill him (a consumable version, highly lethal and difficult to cleanse of scorpion venom), but also from the new activity in their family's movements.

They were among the most influential in the kingdom, and if they wanted to overthrow me, they wouldn't find it too difficult. As far as we knew, Naphat was their only son, but he was cherished by every branch of his family tree. In fact, before all my tradition arose, they devised a plan for Naphat to kill me and seize the throne by succession. A marriage and the possibility of adopting a non-Naphat child would mean they would lose the line of succession.

The fact that I killed everyone I married must have been a relief to them. The fact that Jakapan was still alive was an obstacle. They must want revenge for Naphat's death and to kill Jakapan to eliminate the possibility of inheriting the throne.

―We can establish a trial in court and convict them,―Knight said with gleaming eyes. ―We can prove that the assassination attempt failed.―

―If they don't already know,― I said, considering if it was sensible to expose our security like this. But I was good at spying, and Knight even more so. If they wanted to kill Jakapan, this could be as good an opportunity as any. ―We must be prepared. We can't risk anything happening to him. But we also can't let Jakapan know. According to the apothecary, it's better for him to continue believing that the poisoning was aimed at me.―

I felt that this protection I provided was also about keeping him away from any situation that could unsettle him. The apothecary was emphatic that stressful emotions could negatively affect Jakapan's health. In short, fear, stress, or anything of that kind could harm his health. 

One more reason to exert my protection over him.

―It's also a good time to inform Prince Ta,― Knight mentioned, and I almost hit my forehead remembering that Ta was due to arrive that day. ―He will arrive on the third day, but I didn't allow myself to inform you earlier because I noticed the king was telling you ... the stories. I preferred not to interrupt.―

―You did well,― I said, thinking of what I somehow knew would happen, because the brief time between the soldier and the genie was coming to an end. They didn't even belong to the same species and by nature, just as it started, they weren't destined to be together.

'"Nim... in my second life it will be as painful to separate as in the first."

I shook my head to hear that whisper and thought I imagined it all. I focused on what was happening in the present and the inevitable visit from my brother. But on the other hand, the presence of that spoiled brat could help me portray the perfect family security image I wanted to show to the Varijenat family and any enemy who decided to join them in their mission.

―Where is Ta?―

―The messenger eagle sent a message from the Avijah Valley. He should be here by the night of the second day.―

I nodded, feeling some nostalgia. My brother, the only family I had left and my successor if I died.

―Good. Make arrangements for his arrival.―

I returned to the chambers and informed Jakapan of everything, at least everything he needed to know, feeling fully aware that he didn't believe many of my superficial words. But the only thing I cared about him believing was that I, Wichapas, was powerful enough to give him the protection he needed... and deserved.

I noticed his eyes gleam at the prospect of the presentation Soiree. In the past, those things also got me excited. Maybe I would enjoy it all again in the company of my personal storyteller by my side.

I didn't miss the preparations, because although I had Knight's information, I saw some furniture in different places and even the palace decoration itself was festive.

I selected the clothing I would wear and urged the royal tailor about the appropriate colors for Jakapan. Somehow, seeing him dressed as described for the genie created a kind of longing in me, imagining how much it would highlight the beauty he possessed and seemed completely unaware of.

*

Ta arrived on the second night of the month, just as Knight had predicted. Disregarding all protocol (as he always did), he threw himself at me, saying he missed me. I believed him to some extent, but I knew rumors of my new husband's survival must have reached his mansion, and he must have been curious. Indeed, the first thing he did was ask about the one who convinced me not to kill him. I explained that he would meet him on the Soiree day, but I should have known my brother's curiosity would not allow him to wait that long.

When I decided to find Jakapan in the vast dressing room where the tailor was designing, I knew my brother had already introduced himself to him without my help. Neither of them realized I had heard them, and I could see them through the doors Ta had left ajar. My brother was naturally flirtatious. His distinctly childish features made people consider him trustworthy, and I was clear I had no reason to be jealous; Ta loved me, and Jakapan... Jakapan was my husband. 

I knew the reputation that preceded me did not generate trust and even less affection. And although I knew Jakapan was sensitive to me, what he felt for me could be the result of fear. But no. The innocent ardor he demonstrated in his eyes when he looked at me was not something that could be feigned. I knew everything about pretending, and Jakapan did not have enough malice in his veins to deceive anyone. 

Still, my greedy interior wanted Jakapan's smiles only for me, even if they were directed at my brother, whom I had cared for, raised, and protected since he was young. I was probably behaving like an idiot, and I knew it, I just didn't care. I also didn't need Ta's knowing eyes looking at me and telling me with that penetrating gaze that he knew there was something more between Jakapan and me than we let show. 

He left when I reminded him how nosy he was, and mentally, I prepared for the inquisition that awaited me when I visited his rooms later. I focused my attention on Jakapan, who looked magnificent, just as I had hoped, in the evening clothes designed by the tailor. He bore such a resemblance to the genie from the story that I couldn't help but approach him. The scent of lavender was not enough to hide Jakapan's natural essence, and I immersed myself in it while reproaching him as a jealous husband for smiling at my brother. 

Finally, I kissed his exposed neck due to his ponytail, and I left before doing something stupid. I noticed his eyes opening wide through the mirror, but I didn't owe him any explanations for my actions, even though he deserved them fully.

Ta was in the book room leafing through an old book. I closed the door, and he looked up. His bright and knowing eyes made me feel somewhat uncomfortable, but I didn't let myself be intimidated, or so I thought.

―If you have something to say, say it now,― I sat in the chair next to the window, where the last lights of the evening were disappearing.

―Who is he?― was his direct approach.

―He was collected in the husband hunt,― I said dismissively, suddenly wondering what my life would be like now if I hadn't decided to accompany Knight in the search for my new husband. It was almost as if destiny, in which I didn't believe, had been determined for me to find him.

―Did he come to you, or did you meet him later?―

―I accompanied Knight on the hunt. He was among the eligible candidates.―

―Why is he still alive?―

That was a quite personal question, but we were brothers. Few people, including Ta, knew what I was and what I had become. Ta had tried many times to convince me that my past could not be the architect of my cruel actions; he had also tried many times to stop me from not killing my consorts. I perfectly understood why for Ta it was so strange that Jakapan was still alive.

―He is...― I couldn't actually tell Ta what Jakapan was. A peasant with a boundless imagination and a wide memory, capable of reciting stories so realistically that it was almost magical. The fortunate one selected by a stranger to recount a series of strange stories where there were only two protagonists, whose characteristics resembled ours... ―He is... different.―

That was the only word I could think of. I couldn't even begin to enumerate to Ta what Jakapan meant in my life. ―He is someone I want to protect, someone who is slowly making his way into my heart that I thought was dead. The face in every protagonist of the stories...―

―I believe you,― Ta said, backing my assertion. ―If he weren't, you wouldn't keep him by your side.― His analytical ability and his statements were not surprising; Ta had always been like that. ―But I feel there is something more with him.― He looked towards the extinguished fireplace, where in an hour there would be a fire burning to further illuminate the room. ―Apart from the obvious, he seems something sick, as if surrounded by darkness―

His sixth sense warned him, and what he assumed he saw were the aftermath of Jakapan’s poisoning. 

―Just over a month ago, he fell victim to poisoning by the Varijenat,― I admitted, and Ta looked at me with some reproach, as if blaming me for allowing it. I recounted roughly what happened with Jakapan and what we discovered with Knight. I chose to omit the main reason for keeping Jakapan alive.

―So I arrived at a good time,― Ta said, taking in the plan I had also shared with much more enthusiasm than I expected. I knew I could count on him, and that excited me a little.

―I know Jakapan grew on you, so I’ll need your help to protect him,― I said.

―Count on it. Besides, he’s my brother-in-law. I’d protect him even if you didn’t ask. He’s like a little Kombu pastry,― Ta replied.

―He’s mine,― I warned, surprised by the aggression my own voice revealed. Ta smirked and raised both hands in surrender.

―Yes, I see. But he’s my brother-in-law. I can get close to him without you worrying that I’ll steal him away,― he said jokingly. But beneath it all, we both knew there was something more, tinged with truth. I trusted Ta, but I had feelings for Jakapan. And he knew it.

―Just make sure to stir up some sparks,― the cheeky Ta said.

―Ta…―I began, but he quickly changed the subject.

―Thanks for the accommodations,― he said, and I grumbled, somewhat taken aback by his audacity. For many years, I envied his freedom. I still did, because my role as a monarch was quite heavy. But that didn’t stop our fraternal relationship from remaining as it always was.

―So… will we have dinner together tonight?― he asked after updating me on how things were going in the principality he owned. Everything was under control, so there was nothing to worry about.

―No. I’ll dine with Jakapan. His food needs to be tasted,― I replied.

―Ah, a family dinner!― Ta exclaimed.

―You won’t be present,― I clarified.

Ta widened his eyes. 

―Of course, I understand. Marital privacy.― He raised his eyebrows in a gesture of lascivious jest and I wanted to throw one of the cushions I was leaning on in his face. 

I wasn't interested in talking about my intimacy with my brother, but when he said that, an image of Jakapan, naked, crossed my vision inopportunely. I had memories of his slender body quite well engraved in my memory after helping him bathe so many times. My instinct told me that I was the only one who should see that naked body and that had not changed. 

I didn't deny that that was what my body secretly wanted, but I still needed to listen to him telling me things, specifically stories. But on the other hand, if only then I could enjoy his voice, I didn't want to think about what it would be like the day I decided to consummate my marriage.

I felt a tingling all over my body and some tension in my pelvis. Miraculously, the demands of my body had not been a problem but just imagining it was enough to remember that it was the longest period of celibacy I had ever had. 

It would be a new experience to try to seduce my husband, for whom I had feelings and who, in turn and despite everything, had feelings for me. 

My body tensed even more and I forced myself to calm down without wanting to reveal my dark desires in front of my not-so-innocent brother. 

―Nosy― I murmured again and stood up to leave, wishing him a good rest of the night.

*

That night dinner arrived at our chambers. Jakapan was there after I arrived from visiting my brother and had already changed into his normal clothes. He was in the company of the apothecary and Knight who watched every movement. They were giving him the potion he had to take so that his body would not reject food. He always received them at night. 

When he finished drinking the potion I couldn't help but smile compassionately at his tender expression of disgust. 

―How much longer must I do this, Mr. Apothecary?― Jakapan asked with the eyes of a child throwing a tantrum. The apothecary looked at me surreptitiously because it was a recurring question, but his order was to keep the information on the consumption of the potions until the season of the herbs he needed to make the potion that would completely eliminate the poison was in full bloom.

―The poison in your body was very strong. You will need time to recover and that is what potions are for―

Jakapan sighed in resignation and I understood it because it was also the apothecary's usual response. Surely he wanted different information. He probably wanted to hear that he was going to be better soon. 

I nodded and when he drank the last potion. He walked to sit in his usual place, on the wide window sill while the apothecary bowed away and the kitchen staff entered with that night's food, kra pao among them. The other accompaniments were placed in order on my desk and left along with Knight.

I approached to taste each food as I usually did. I looked at Jakapan, who watched me apprehensively as if expecting me to convulse right there. I was also apprehensive, but to prevent him from trying it and potentially facing death this time.

It tasted delicious and seemed clean, so Jakapan approached to prepare his plate, looking at me disapprovingly. I remained unaffected; my body could tolerate the poison because I regularly took potions and medicines that protected me.

Jakapan began to eat slowly, watching me do the same. Everything happened in silence, and when we finished, it was time to go to bed. But before everything happened, Jakapan offered once again to continue with the story.

My curiosity battled with my apprehension because, somehow, I knew what was coming. Each of us took our usual positions on these long nights; he sat by the window, gazing into the night, while I lay on the bed, eyes closed.

"Korn felt like his head was exploding. The last thing he remembered was the blow and how he tried to protect his genie, sensing somehow that something bad was going to happen to him.

―Wake up...― said a voice that the soldier immediately recognized. The darkness prevented him from clearly seeing this person, but he knew well who was speaking to him.

A palm made violent contact with his cheek, forcing him to become alert and try to assess the vulnerable position he was in with the throbbing pain at the back of his head.

Finally, amidst the darkness, he distinguished the light of a candle and the figure of Hem moving towards the entrance of what looked like a dungeon. Hem crouched down outside the prison and looked at him from there.

―What do you want? Why am I here?― he asked his fellow soldier, who looked at him impassively.

―Watching you,― Hem replied, unperturbed, not taking his eyes off him.

―Where is Katha?― was all he could ask. Hem clicked his tongue in annoyance.

―Where it needs to be,― the image of the lamp formed in Korn's mind, but Hem seemed to sense it. ―With its next master; Mr. Phis― When he mentioned the word “master" Korn knew Hem understood the true nature of his genie. ―I never thought you had the guts to take something that isn’t yours―

―What do you want?― Korn asked, struggling to sit up and leaning against the wall.

―You must relinquish ownership of that creature. If you don’t, you will die,― Hem said, unflinching.

―You... knew what we were going to find when we were ordered to wipe out the village?―

―Of course, it’s just that you were luckier than I was. All these weeks watching you, I wondered what I would have done if I’d gotten that artifact. Now, all I care about is that you surrender ownership and disappear from this country―

Korn tried to read Hem’s expression, but the distance and darkness made it impossible.

―Ask the creature for whatever you want, and you’ll be free to flee. No one will pursue you,― Hem said, as if reciting a well-studied script. Korn knew that mind had already been washed.

―I’m not going to ask him for anything. There’s nothing I want,― Korn sighed, leaning against the wall and touching his neck. Hem let out a disdainful laugh.

―Every human wants something. You can’t deny it. Eventually, you will yield―

“I wish for Katha to be free.”

But he didn’t say it aloud because he was sure neither Hem nor anyone behind this would understand.

Katha wouldn’t be free if Korn made a wish. He had confessed how to be liberated, and even though he had begged Korn to do it, the soldier made a decision. It was the only thing he could do for the genie and for what he felt for him. After all, the genie was the only creature, besides his grandmother, who truly loved him.

He heard the sound of a door opening, followed by the brighter light of a gas lamp. The person carrying it entered the dungeon and brought the light closer to Korn’s face.

―Being a deserter isn’t good in these times.― The general of his battalion looked at him with a far more disdainful expression than Hem’s.

―How did you know?―Korn didn’t specify what he was talking about, knowing the general would understand perfectly.

―I have my sources. But more important than how I knew is how you’re going to make the creature obey me.― Korn tried to stand up and managed with difficulty; it felt like his ankle was fractured, and his whole leg ached.

―I said I won’t ask for anything. I don’t want anything.― The general laughed and exchanged a knowing glance with Hem.

―We’ll see about that.―

He gestured to Hem, who stepped forward to help Korn walk out of the cell, tying his hands first to prevent him from doing anything stupid. He was led outside, through a dense forest, until they finally arrived at a clearing where a series of symbols were drawn in a circle.

Looking to the right, Korn noticed Katha on his knees, a silver chain around his neck, his expression one of resignation and pain―indicators of an unmanageable situation for a creature like him. 

Korn could see bruises and burns on his neck from the rope that bound him, as if he were a dog. He remained a slave to magic, which outraged Korn; no one deserved to be treated like that. Someone kicked him in the shins, forcing him to fall to his knees in the center of the rune circle. Korn felt that, even though no one was around, he had entered a kind of magical prison.

―Make the wishes, quickly,― the general urged, looking around as if waiting for someone he didn’t want to see, almost manically. ―Make them!―

Something else was happening. 

Hem observed the general’s deranged demeanor and his eagerness for Korn to make his wishes to relinquish ownership of Katha. It was as if he didn’t want to keep the creature to hand it over to Phis, but for himself, before Phis arrived.

The general planned to appropriate the lamp. 

A strange breeze began to envelope the entire place and the general must have felt it because he quickly took out his weapon and pointed it at Korn's head, making Katha try to stand up to come and protect him but being completely diminished by the force of what surrounded his neck. 

―Make wishes or I'll blow your brains out,― said the general. That man's hair moved strangely again like all the air between them.  Korn looked at the barrel of the gun pointed at him, feeling how his heart, instead of beating faster, made it slower, resignedly accepting his fate. Undeterred by changing it.

―No! ―Katha gasped when the trigger of the gun was activated―Ask me anything, please!―the genie shouted again, apparently ready to continue his life of slavery. 

―I don't want anything,― Korn said, looking away from the gun and observing the genie he fell in love with without realizing it.

―Ask for something!― said another voice next to the general and Korn noticed that Hem's voice was not indifferent. 

Korn looked at Hem who in turn looked at him with something very different from before; as if he wanted him to be saved at all costs even though he was probably the one who handed them over. 

He ignored Hem's incongruous request and turned to see Katha again who, although could not cry, had a miserable expression on his face. 

―I don't want anything,― he stated as if it were his mantra and the genie closed his eyes, unable to believe what was happening. That was not his intention when he spoke about this with Master Korn. He never expected a human to be willing to do that.

If he could cry, he probably would at that moment. 

―Do you want to die?― asked the general, placing the gun against Korn's temple. 

―We will all die at some point,― Korn said without caring about anything other than fulfilling what he promised himself. ―If this is the moment of my death so be it―

―You can ask for money, prestige, even immortality,― the general insisted as if with these superficialities he could convince him.  Again Korn fixed his eyes on Katha and felt greater pressure from the weapon on his head. 

―If you don't spend your wishes I will shoot you here and now―

That was actually what Korn wanted and he closed his eyes waiting for the moment. 

When he thought that he was finally going to say goodbye to the world and that no one else could oppress the will of his genie he felt like he was pushed to the side and the pain in his ankle caused him to lose his balance, feeling as if the circle of runes itself had tried to reject him.  At the same second the sound of the gun firing was heard and Korn, who did not feel pain in his head nor died at that moment, opened his eyes quickly. He tried to stand up but all he could see was the limp body of someone next to him. 

Hem's empty gaze returned his sight along with the hole in his forehead, where the bullet aimed at Korn entered. He had sacrificed his life for him.  The general raised the gun after shooting Hem and pointed it at Korn who simply closed his eyes and awaited his fate. 

"Make a wish. Ask for it. Ask me to save you. Ask for it." The voice in Korn's head said but he unconsciously denied it so that the genie and the general who was holding him could see it. Korn would not ask for anything because he swore, he swore that he would not make any wishes so that the genie would be free. 

If he asked for something, the genie and his circuit of servitude would remain in this world and he did not want that.  All Korn wanted was for Katha to be free... And Katha was, at that moment, a prisoner of higher magic, because he couldn't move or fight. He was imprisoned by the reins that the general gave him and which was cursed. 

―You're an Idiot. All this power in your hands and you were never able to use it. This is why the weak will never rule the world,― said the general with dementia vibrating in every pore of his skin and in his reddened eyes. 

Master Phis told the general the properties of the genie and the lamp it inhabited, and now he would take it for himself and conquer the world. He was not interested in anyone else knowing about this power or replicating it as Master Phis always wanted. Master Phis who would be reduced to dust when the general took complete control over the lamp and the creature that inhabited it.

The general wanted it all for himself. 

"Master Korn... I don't want you to die." 

Korn smiled sadly, fully aware of what his fate was. He had long since realized that he would die young and that was fine. He endured psychological torture and refused to make wishes to save the genie. But the general did not know why he did it. He just thought he refused to make wishes because he was an idiot. 

But the truth... the truth was different. Because Katha told him a few hours ago. 

In his sight he quickly passed that afternoon where he took Katha to the sea to watch a sunset. The genie held his hand tightly as dark eyes filled with something akin to nostalgia for the beautiful panorama. Katha asked him to make his wish at that moment, as many times before, but Korn refused. So Katha pretended to be Korn and asked that they never be separated. As if he sensed what was coming. 

"If you continue refusing to make my wishes, you are going to free me," Katha said after a few moments.

"And that's bad?" Korn asked with the deer-like sun shining in his pupils. 

"If I'm free... can we be together"

Korn did not know the answer to that question, because he did not know the rules that governed the magical world where the genie must come from.

"If I'm free, are you going to stay with me?" the genie asked again.

Korn finally looked at him. He didn't know, he didn't know an answer and he assumed that the genie was asking him because of his mortal condition.

"Can I do something to free you?"

Katha seemed reluctant to tell him and Korn noticed. He learned to know every gesture of the genius without needing the power that the genius itself held; read minds. 

"You know you can tell me," he murmured and the genie nodded in confirmation. 

Katha told part by part what the magic consisted of; If a master wanted to free the genie from the curse of servility, he had to refuse to make wishes and be willing to die for the creature he wanted to free.

When Korn heard that, he understood why Katha was reluctant to say it. 

"The master will sacrifice his life and the restrictive magic will fade"

"So die," Korn said, breathing deeply. 

"But you're never going to die," Katha quickly appeased, looking at Korn with frightened eyes. 

"Katha..."

"I will save you. If you ask me to save you, I will and it won't count as a wish"

The genie said that, but both, human and creature, knew that it was not true. Anything Korn asked Katha would count as a wish and the general would win. 

―Please...― said Katha's anguished voice, feeling how what the master called  heart began to hurt in his own chest.

The general activated the weapon, completely convinced that Korn's death would mean the release of the genie to be his master. 

The bullet pierced Korn's skull and the body fell motionless next to Hem's as the genie screamed and the wave of sound that came out of his mouth made the entire environment shake, frightening the general who turned to see Phis entering the clearing forest, walking slowly and looking at the genius and his suffering with shining eyes.

―General... what have you done?― he asked and Katha knew that Phis was aware of the general's true intentions. But he couldn't care less about anything because he had just seen his beloved master, his beloved human, die at the hands of that evil lord. 

―I...― the general said, quickly raising his hand to point it at Phis before he got any closer. ―I'm not going to let anyone keep the lamp. I have killed the owner of the artifact. Now it is mine―

Phis looked at Katha, who had his gaze fixed on Korn's body and was trying to get closer but he was damned and couldn't even stand up. 

―Later I will deal with you, human traitor― Disdaining the general and causing the weapon to melt with a wave of his hand, Phis ignored the general's cries of pain and walked until he faced Katha. ―Long time no see, Katha,― he greeted with all the joy that someone so dark could feel. 

Katha looked up with difficulty, so much so that Phis overlooked that the burns and bruises on the genie's neck disappeared the moment Korn left that world. 

―You know what you have to do. Come with me and I will make it as painless as possible―

They both knew that was a lie. Fusing genies cores was an immensely complicated and indeed painful process. 

―Let me bring Master Korn back, and I'll go with you.―

―Why do you call him master? He is already dead, his ownership over you is zero. Now you are mine. The runes determine it so,― said Phis, gesturing towards the circle where the runes had begun to shine. Where Korn and Hem's bodies were. 

―Let me bring Master Korn back, and I'll go with you,― the genie's muffled voice said again and Phis, showing something resembling compassion, took the reins and forced Katha to stand up. 

―Go... try something other than bringing him back from death and I will fuse with you in the most painful way possible―

Katha looked at Phis and nodded. Phis felt something strange coming from the genie. He supposed that his former master finally had to use a wish and that was to ask him not to let him die. Likewise for the runes it was clear that Katha... was his.

With the silver rein trailing, Katha walked almost floating towards the circle of runes and knelt next to Korn's head, from where the thread of blood produced by the general's shot came out.

Death. 

Katha never really thought about the fragility of the human body and at the same time the mind strength they could possess. But he witnessed that at that moment and also what humans were capable of doing for power... and for love. 

The books could not describe that terrible and at the same time wonderful feeling, nor did they have words to describe the destructive power that that emotion had. Because although being free had a price, he never wish for it to be that. 

He raised his index finger and with his other hand he grabbed Korn's, making a movement that made the master's wrist begin to bleed.  It was not a strong flow of blood because the heart was slowly losing strength due to having a dead brain. But it sprouted in the same way. It was enough for Katha to move his other index finger on his own wrist and a silver-colored fluid, his own blood, began to flow.

His blood began to mix with Korn's, causing the soldier's circulatory system to turn silver and his body to begin to glow. Katha's blood began to spill over Korn's body so it turned into silver ropes that completely twisted itself around Korn's  inert form and began to rise slowly to be positioned on Katha's back, who, carrying master Korn, stood up,  looking at Phis with undisguised hatred. 

A hatred that a creature should not feel but that filled Katha irremediably. 

The magical rein broke at the same time that a dome of translucent silver covered the circle of runes, generating a force field. Phis shouted angrily but Katha didn't hear him. He only made Hem's body fade into millions of lights and he pressed Korn's body closer against his back, raising his right hand and directing it towards the night sky where, suddenly, the stars began to shine brighter. 

―Stop, demon!― Phis shouted, raising his hand and trying to break the force field created by Katha, but he couldn't do it, the power of that magic was much stronger than what he could manifest. ―You're mine, you can't do this! ―

Phis didn't know what was happening, only that he couldn't approach Katha and merge with him as he had initially intended. 

Katha raised his other hand and the energy field began to fill with a silver dust that began to spin around and around, creating a glow similar to that of snow bathed in the sun. 

What good was freedom if you couldn't have what you wanted?

Master Korn surely did not think about that, he did not think that Katha would resent his absence and love him even though he sacrificed his life to give him that freedom that he now held.  The freedom to hate and take revenge. The freedom to do what he wanted at that moment. 

He couldn't bring Master Korn to life because he didn't ask him to. But he could destroy that world where neither of them fit. 

―Let's go home... Korn,― he said with a strangled voice as the force within the field began to gain speed and Katha felt how his core, the one he was willing to take out, began to burn in his chest. 

From somewhere he became convinced that Master Korn was seeing all this and although he did not agree, he simply gave him the go-ahead to do...what his genie heart dictated. And he promised him that they would see each other again.

―Don't do it!― Phis shouted when he understood Katha's intention, trying to counteract it with his powers again without success.

But it was too late for that. Katha's core began to burn and the genie, holding Korn's hand, closed his eyes and exploded in a wave of energy that disintegrated everything in its path. 

The world... has just been destroyed. 

For a genie who, for the rest of history, was known as the d’jinn who destroyed the world... for love."

Chapter Text

16

King Jakapan

I was grateful to be looking towards the last remnants of the night because, just like when I first heard the story, this separation was so painful that it brought me to tears. I never understood why it affected me so personally, but it did. I became so immersed in what the two of them were experiencing that sometimes I felt as if it had happened to me. But this association of events shouldn’t have occurred; because it was a sign that perhaps I was losing my own reason.

I waited and discreetly wiped my tears. Once done, I turned my gaze back to the large bed where the king’s figure lay on his side, looking at me.

—So Katha destroyed the world?— I nodded in confirmation.

—The stranger said that the power of his pain was stronger than the magic contained in his core, so, without magic to contain it, the core of the genie extinguished and evaporated everything in its path—

King Wichapas had his penetrating gaze fixed on me, absorbing what I had said. Perhaps he didn’t believe that emotions had such an influence, but I tried to put myself in the genie's shoes and had to admit that, if I had powers of that magnitude, I would have done the same. I knew myself, and even though I was usually calm, something told me that within me was a kind of strength that, if triggered, couldn’t be controlled. Or maybe I was just being ridiculous and trying to live life as best I could.

I looked out the window again, observing the stars, which immediately reminded me of the next story. The stranger mentioned things that, evidently and truly, would never happen. They involved space travelers and what occurred among them in that inhospitable and poorly explored environment.

—I think you’ll like the next story much more— I said, trying not to be overcome by sadness and unable to think of any other way to help myself.

—I don’t doubt it. But you need to rest and then prepare— said the king.

He was right. I managed to sleep for about five hours before being woken up for a bath, as always provided by the king. He gently chided me for having swollen eyelids, but I had fallen asleep crying after remembering the story and thinking about the pain that still awaited them. 

I didn’t know why I felt the accidental touch of his fingers as if it were tripled, as if the sensitivity of my mind had transferred to my body. He probably noticed because the potions slightly improved the appearance of my skin, and my cheeks could generate some warmth.

My mind wouldn’t let me forget that I found this kind of contact very enticing. As if my body had been asleep all this time and decided to awaken to these new sensations.

In my village, people my age often talked about a kind of intimacy that I was never attracted to. And just as the king was bathing me, the memory of those words came to my mind, making me desire the king, not just in a platonic way. I felt like I was digging my own grave and no one would come to take the shovel away from me.

No matter how hard I tried to see something negative in letting my feelings for the king grow, nothing materialized in my reasoning because I was becoming inexorably attached to him. There was no Jakapan in my head questioning what the hell I was doing or if I had truly lost my mind.

The king’s actions that day were not limited to bathing me; he stayed with me for most of the remaining morning and afternoon until it was time to dress for the evening.

I also noticed the festive atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the sense of unease that could also be felt, as if a celebration and a war were about to take place, which didn’t make much sense. I hoped it was just my volatile imagination and that I could enjoy this type of event in a palace like this.

The staff assisting me with my clothes also seemed quite enthusiastic and helped me look unrecognizable. I recognized them because they were the same people who dressed me on my wedding day. The treatment for this night was the same, a kind of backup process, depilating me and making my skin shine with all sorts of lotions and essences.

Aside from the ponytail in which they gathered my hair, they adorned it with gemstone decorations that looked like jade and all kinds of jewelry with precious stones whose names I didn’t know but whose colors I liked very much.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was amazed at what well-applied makeup could do. It made me look like the healthiest person in the kingdom, even though it wasn’t true, and I was grateful for it. It would have been a shame to wear these beautiful clothes with a sickly face. This gave me some courage and self-esteem to face anyone I encountered that night.

I wouldn’t look out of place next to the king. The image of us walking among a crowd shouldn’t give me such a feeling of satisfaction, but it did. And before I knew it, night had arrived at my favorite window to look outside.

The door to the chambers opened, and the king crossed the threshold dressed in black, just as I had expected, but looking so magnificent that anyone watching us from outside would think we were exactly what we wanted to represent: dressed versions of Yin and Yang. 

This made me believe that our marriage could be something much more mystical.

“Enough with the destiny stuff,” I said, or I would end up going completely mad.

The king continued to gaze at me for long minutes, and I wished I had the ability to read his thoughts just to know what he truly thought of me at that moment. He must have had a rather complex mind.

But I didn’t have time to dwell on it because he lifted his long, white hand and offered it to me. I anticipated that touch because it was always this way whenever he touched me, and when our skin made contact, it felt as though something inside me clicked into place.

The king led us down a palace corridor I didn’t know, one that exuded luxury and had that special illumination that only torches could provide. Our steps were muffled by the fabric-tipped slippers we wore. Walking next to him finally gave me another great satisfaction. For the first time since being by his side, we were making this kind of gesture. It was... addictive. Suddenly, I wanted to walk beside him for the rest of my life and have nothing stop me.

As we approached where I assumed the main event would take place, the murmur of indistinct conversations from various people grew louder, and almost instinctively, I tightened my grip on the king’s arm to keep my balance. I had never tested my dramatic skills and didn’t know if I would perform well in large crowds. I guessed I would find out tonight.

Two enormous doors stood before us, and the traditional hall’s interior welcomed us. We were at the top of a carved wooden staircase that divided into two, encircling a sacred figure. Everyone below us turned to look as soon as they became aware of our presence. The king looked at me, and when he saw the slight nod I gave, he moved forward, delicately leading me by the arm. Always walking by his side, no longer behind him.

It was curious. I knew that every pair of eyes in the room was on us, on me, and the murmurs did not cease as we crossed the hall along the central aisle. Finally, we reached the platform where our thrones awaited.

When we were in front of our chairs, the king made a gesture, and a band began to play a slow, traditional melody.

It seemed it wasn’t yet time for my official introduction, but every guest needed to know who I was. Prince Ta was standing to the right of King Wichapas’s throne, and apparently, only I noticed the wink he gave me. I smiled involuntarily, recalling his childish argument with the king.

I sat on my throne with all the grace I could muster and looked straight ahead, avoiding focusing on anyone in particular. Perhaps I would have enjoyed that attention a bit if it weren’t for the underlying fear. It was as if my own body was warning me not to relax entirely in this environment, and I confirmed this when my eyes traveled around the room and stopped on a group of people dressed in a distinctive color, as if they all belonged to the same family.

A hand took mine and squeezed it gently. The king had noticed where I was looking and seemed to be trying to give me encouragement.

When the traditional band stopped playing, the king stood and offered me his hand to position myself by his side. Although there were so many people, the gesture of us standing made everyone fall silent, almost eerily so. The king began to speak. I hadn’t expected a special speech, and I was satisfied that he limited my introduction to:

—Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Jakapan, Consort King of Thailand—    

It was more or less the same introduction as on the day we got married, but now there were many more people. I received wai greetings from everyone except for the group dressed in a different color in the corner of the hall. The king gave a nod of acknowledgment to that group, but even so, they did not adhere to the supposed protocol. They looked away, not out of discomfort, but to make a clear statement of their displeasure with the situation. Could these people be the ones mentioned in secret, those who hated the king’s position? The disapproval they radiated convinced me of it.

One of the members of the group, an older man, stepped forward and spoke.

—He is not our king; we should not show him any reverence—

The hall fell silent again, and the king beside me tensed slightly but disguised it perfectly, especially when the elder spoke again.

—When will you execute him?—

Murmurs of poorly disguised curiosity filled the silence. It seemed that my continued existence had surpassed the boundaries of the walls where the king and I interacted. The question was a challenge, but I assumed the king would not be intimidated.

—Good evening, Khun Varijenat— the king said calmly— I did not expect your presence tonight—

—We are... family— the elder spat with contempt.

—Since Naphat’s death, I thought our family ties were quite... strained—

Naphat. 

Would he be the same person everyone said the king loved dearly?

—Surely you understand that when someone tries to kill another person... family bonds become secondary.—

Family... because of the consort king?

—And what are you waiting for to kill this... peasant?—

King Wichapas slowly wiped the smile from his face, giving way to a cruel expression.

—You see, since he hasn’t tried to kill me, I’ve grown quite fond of him—

—And what about those before him? Surely everyone present remembers how he sought out young men to kill for sport—

—Your son almost decapitated me with a weapon provided by your family. It’s only logical to think that anyone approaching me, like him, would want to kill me. Besides, he didn’t try to stop me back then, nor did he offer a proper apology—

—You lost your mind after Naphat. You are not fit to rule— The elder’s words silenced the room again, and he looked around at the whole hall, waiting for approval he did not receive, at least not openly.

—There is no comparison between Naphat and the new king. Naphat was just a hired assassin. I can trust my new husband—

I felt foolishly proud that he said this aloud, even though I couldn’t be sure it was what he truly believed. —All those who came after Naphat were... collateral damage—

—Cousin Ohm, do you really want to do this right now?— Prince Ta interjected, speaking over King Wichapas’s shoulder— Everyone in this room, and I mean EVERYONE, knows that my new brother-in-law is special. We are not to blame for cousin Naphat’s preference for power over love. Though he may have been influenced by someone else— he sighed dramatically and snorted— Instead of questioning the king, you should enjoy this lovely party—

The guests began to murmur again, and the one who had challenged the king decided to remain silent for the moment and return to his group of defiant faces. Was regicide something more than usual among these families?

We sat down, and the distribution of food and drinks was ordered. The indistinct chatter of the attendees and the clinking of spoons and forks filled the ambiance along with the orchestra.

I dared to lean slightly towards the king over the food I was hesitant to touch for fear of making a scene. I was going to ask him directly if that family was responsible for the poisoning I accidentally consumed. He looked at me for several seconds when my weak voice made that thought audible. Perhaps he was surprised by the tone of intimacy I used, but I couldn’t think of another way to do it. He finally gave a nod of confirmation.

—They are the family of my first husband. For a long time, they have been looking for a way to overthrow me—

—And is there no way to bring them to the royal court and judge them?— I asked, not understanding why someone who openly wanted to harm him had the freedom to walk around.

—There is no solid evidence. And even if I could accuse them due to family ties, they renounced Naphat’s paternity and the authorship of his actions when they were discovered and tried, sentenced to death. Still, they resent his death and think that by overthrowing me, they would access the throne more quickly—

He spoke as if he didn’t care, but I could tell that the issue affected him deeply.

—Impertinent— murmured Ta, who was now sitting next to the king and biting into a green apple with gusto— Still trying to question you when it was Naphat who...—

—Ta...— the king interrupted him with a tone of warning, and the prince rolled his eyes at me.

—Yes, yes, I know. But I was so looking forward to enjoying the celebration and then these people come and...—

—The best way to respond is... by enjoying, I suppose— said the king, agreeing with his younger brother. Then he looked at me with bright eyes, as if I were going to become his source of entertainment, which, I sadly admitted, I would love.— We will enjoy this celebration, and the kingdom will know that... the consort is still alive—

He looked at Ta with a malicious smile. He stood up, leaving his food behind, and made a gesture with his hand. The orchestra stopped playing, and the king, standing, turned to me, offering his hand as he had done since we left our quarters a few hours ago. I quickly took his hand so that no one would notice my confusion and fear of making a fool of myself. My fear intensified when the king walked slowly with me to the center of the traditional hall while everyone bowed in greeting. The murmurs overflowed with excitement as if seeing us together was... thrilling. As if they, like me, found our marriage or union (whatever they wanted to call it) something destined to happen.

When we reached the center of the hall, the king turned to face me and held my hands in the traditional position to start a dance.

Mom always told me I was born with the ability to dance in my veins, but I didn’t know if this kind of dance would be easy for me as well. As soon as King Wichapas began to move, I followed his movements with innate skill, realizing that even in this, we were compatible.

I let the satisfaction of that realization envelop me during those minutes of the dance. I was happy, as if many events in my life had led me to this point.

I looked at no one but the king. I seemed trapped in his gaze, and I didn't want or could look away. We twirled following the diagram drawn on the floor as a guide, holding each other. One of his hands gripped my waist while my hand clung tightly to his shoulder, as if my own body was trying to convince itself that this was all real.

I wasn’t in a story, but I had to remind myself even though it was difficult to separate those two realities at that moment. Our faces were so close that I could feel his sweet breath. I was gasping, forcing myself to breathe normally so I could keep up with the rhythm of the traditional dance and not faint.

The music came to an end, and I couldn’t help but let a smile spread across my face, leaning on the king more than necessary because my weak body felt slightly exhausted. I noticed the king’s gaze, but he wasn’t as open as I was in showing his pleasure. Neutrality was his strong suit, and I shouldn’t have been surprised. The king bore some of my weight as we walked back to our thrones. He seemed intent on us continuing to act naturally, and so I did.

I was relieved to sit down, even though I would have preferred to continue dancing with the king for the rest of the night. I didn’t dwell on the fact that the guests applauded our performance.

—You’re pale, brother-in-law,— Prince Ta said, and for the first time, I noticed his tone was not filled with humor but genuine concern. I smiled and told him I was fine. I didn’t want the celebration to end because of me, and I was going to endure like the country boy I was. Enough of being a damsel.

The king offered me a drink, and I gratefully accepted, thinking it was wine or something equally delicious. However, although it was wine, it had the jasmine scent characteristic of the potion that gave me energy to keep living. The king had noticed my discomfort and had a reserve potion, which he discreetly provided by giving me wine, something that could be considered common.

—Thank you,— I said quietly and took a generous sip. The sweet taste of the potion and the bitterness of the wine was perfect, and I enjoyed it. Of course, I wasn’t going to say that, lest they offer me this potion with wine from now on and I end up becoming some sort of alcoholic. Moments later, I felt the urge to go to the bathroom, so I asked for permission to leave.

The king made a gesture to Knight, and he walked with me, leading me in the right direction.

As we moved away from the hall, I was able to relax my neutral expression a little and frown at the discomfort. I didn’t think I would feel so unwell after dancing, especially since I had managed to cope with some of those strange symptoms these days. It was as if something was triggering it, and I had to lean against the wall before continuing with Knight, who asked if I was alright.

Before I could even respond, Knight grabbed my arm roughly and pushed me quickly against the wall, which, somehow, turned around completely, leaving us in a hidden chamber and only a small space. I wanted to protest but made a gesture to stay silent (the typical finger on the lips) while he peered through. I was surprised to see that this wall wasn’t a wall but a passage. I wanted to open my mouth to ask, but I stayed silent as Knight had ordered and waited.

Steps were heard on the other side, along with another sound I couldn’t identify. Knight observed everything with concentration through the small slit, which appeared as a normal picture. The steps were accompanied by the sound of glass clinking and rubbing against each other, and Knight made a gesture and muttered an obscene word.

I heard the noise twice, and in seconds, my stomach started to hurt.

—Knight...—I said, trying to get his attention and tell him I wasn’t feeling well.

He didn’t hear me because I must have spoken too softly, and I tried again when I felt something climbing from my stomach to my throat.

Knight slowly drew his sword while I called him again.

—Remain silent, Your Highness,— he whispered, and I clutched my stomach with my arms to alleviate the horrible discomfort that started to afflict me, which the potion didn’t relieve at all.

As Knight pushed the false wall, he emerged with his sword and, brandishing it, struck once, severing the hand of a figure I could identify as someone tall, covered in a long black cloak. The hand that Knight cut off, by the movement, released two glass balls, which I noticed behind Knight’s shoulder, as he shielded me with his body. Something black and liquid was moving inside them, and the person who had them tried to scream. But they couldn’t, for some reason, the voice sounded muffled, and Knight raised his sword again but stopped at the last moment when he heard Prince Ta’s voice.

Before fully registering the prince’s presence, I bent over and vomited. It was nothing I hadn’t done before, except this time what came out of me wasn’t the potion but a whitish egg that made me recoil in horror. I stumbled and fell into my brother-in-law’s arms, who held me as the horror filled me with panic.

—Don’t kill him; he must be interrogated,— Ta said, pointing to the figure who continued to scream silently.

—Yes, my lord— Knight said and turned towards the figure.

—I’ll take the king. Inform my brother.—

—Yes, my lord,— Knight said, and the prince took me away while I continued to have retching impulses purely out of reflex because whatever I vomited was what had climbed from my stomach.

I wanted to ask what it was, but the prince stopped me every time I opened my mouth until we finally reached the bathroom where I had to sit on one of the wooden stools and try to breathe to accept the fact that I had vomited what looked like an egg of something.

—I... I...— I said through coughs and tears, and the prince gently patted my back to calm me.

—It’s over,— he said soothingly, but I couldn’t forget it, nor could I forget that the fact that the egg came from me had something to do with the black balls that person in the black cloak had in the hand that Knight severed.

—It was... an egg...—

—The apothecary is coming. Calm down...— the prince tried to soothe me, but I don’t think I’d ever forget it.

The bathroom door opened, and the apothecary and the king entered. As the apothecary approached me, the prince moved closer to the king and whispered something in his ear, which I assumed was what had happened.

The apothecary gave me something colorless that tasted like water. But it couldn’t be because immediately another round of retching attacked me, and I had to vomit whether I wanted to or not.

I lost consciousness soon, and I just hoped to wake up.

King Wichapas

—Thank you for your visit. King Jakapan will receive your regards,— I said as a formal communication, bringing an end to the night I had wished could have lasted longer but which had helped me understand a few things.

I couldn't raise an accusatory finger, though I had the urge. When I saw Jakapan leave, I knew something was going to go wrong, even though I sent him off with Knight. The plan had worked in so far as we had unsettled the Varijenat, but I should have guessed they wouldn't just sit idly by in the face of such an affront in front of the courtiers.

They were moving, and time was against us. The guards’ messaging service gave me the alert I needed to know that something had happened on the way to the bathrooms, and I wasn’t mistaken. I left the hall and walked towards the bathrooms, finding a rather disturbing scene as soon as I entered and saw my husband, his face mortally pale and the smell of burnt almonds in the air.

From what Ta explained, the person Knight attacked was a sorcerer. Such a profession was forbidden in the kingdom, but that didn't stop the sorcerer from attempting to work with the remnants of poison that clung to Jakapan's body. The apothecary, after administering a sedative potion to Jakapan, confirmed that the sorcerer had used his abilities to accelerate the process of the poison inside the body. Hence the eggs in Jakapan's vomit.

Once the poison evolved, Jakapan's body would harbor living scorpions that would kill him slowly.

I cursed in my mind but trusted the apothecary's knowledge to try and delay the process until it was possible to bring the herbs needed to save my husband to this kingdom.

My husband... the one I defended in front of the Varijenat, who had likely hired this sorcerer to find out whose body the poison was in—mine or someone else's. Knight assured me that the sorcerer hadn't seen what happened to Jakapan when he attempted to accelerate the poison's effect, as Knight had severed his hand and then the sorcerer was only aware of the pain.

But now I had a mute sorcerer prisoner who, I was sure, wouldn't talk. They were a culture too loyal and would likely die of starvation within a week, no matter how much we tortured them for information.

Sure, it was the perfect strategy, but that didn't make me feel any better. My husband was growing poisonous scorpion eggs inside him and would die if we didn't do something soon.

After we finished sorting everything out, I returned to the hall to excuse the king's absence, saying he was tired. I made up an excuse involving bedroom activities to prevent anyone else from prying, and I noticed the Varijenat family talking among themselves, likely sharing information or plans, whatever they might be.

I wanted to approach them or have them executed on the spot, but without evidence, it would be impossible. Even though I was king, it would lead to court. If I wanted to bring them to trial, I needed concrete evidence.

The glass vials containing the poison's activator might hold some evidence, but until the apothecary analyzed them, I couldn't do anything, and that would take days.

When all the guests had left, I almost ran to my quarters where Ta was with Jakapan, applying cold towels to his forehead. I wanted to hug my brother for taking the task of caring for his brother-in-law so seriously, as he called him. I knew I had to thank Ta for going after Knight and him, as if he had foreseen that something bad would happen.

—You didn't say it was scorpion poison he consumed,— Ta said without looking at me.

—I did not considered it necessary.—

—I thought this was all because of Naphat, but I realize now that the Varijenat are more than willing to prevent you from adopting anyone to inherit the throne. And they won't turn against me because I'm not in the line of succession.—

I nodded, sitting at the foot of the bed. By now, Ta must have known that, indeed, Jakapan was the intended target of the poison, not me.

—When does the apothecary need to go gather the herbs?—

I forgot that Ta had studied herbalism during his travels around the world. He probably knew as much about poisons as the apothecary did.

—In two months. The seasons have to be precise, you know that well.—

—Hmm,— he nodded, changing the towel. He had a wooden bowl with some ice in it and was soaking the towel before placing it on Jakapan's forehead. —I'm sorry, we should have been faster,— he apologized, but I knew I had no right to demand anything from him or Knight. It was enough.

—You signed up for this mission to keep him alive. You won't be able to return to the principality unless we unmask the Varijenat.—

—Bah, I like being here and you know it. The principality is nice but your life is full of setbacks and it's entertaining. Besides, since... what happened, I hate them. They should never have tried to kill you with such a low strategy,— he said with his usual humor, and I knew I had a new ally. I had to find a way to repay him. And he was probably referring to the fact that Naphat used my feelings for him as a weakening method to try to kill me. —Although... you still have a secret you haven't told me. It's not like you can hide it much longer. Even if you don't tell me, I know what you told the cousins is true... you trust my brother-in-law.—

I was afraid to tell Ta what was really happening with Jakapan and for him to consider me a madman for believing in mysticism and revealing dreams. I couldn’t do it at that moment, not while I couldn’t even identify what was happening, who or what was binding me to Jakapan more strongly each time.

—I think... you feel something for my brother-in-law. That's why you're keeping him alive. — He wasn't wrong, but that wasn't all there was to it.

—Enough— I said, not wanting to argue with him about it. Ta understood my momentary reluctance, but I knew he wouldn't give up. Once something got into his head, just like me, nothing could get it out.

—Well, I think I'll go to bed. I don’t think anything extraordinary will happen again for the rest of the night—

I nodded as well and we said our goodbyes at the door.

After he left, I sighed heavily and sat back on the edge of the bed, thinking about what I needed to do to ease the situation. I wasn’t blaming myself for not protecting him at that moment, as I had already accepted that reality the first time he took the poison, but now I understood that things could worsen quickly, and I had to do something to prevent Jakapan from suffering.

I relieved Ta from the task of reducing the fever caused by the poison attack. I briefly wondered why that voice in my head wasn’t telling me what to do, why the silence now when it was needed. I didn’t need it to tell me to protect him, but how could I protect him when he was slowly dying from the poison he consumed?

Jakapan was delirious all night. I had enough time to change clothes and continue watching over him, trying to calm him when his delirium became harder to bear. Eventually, sleep overtook me, and I lost track of both of us until the early hours of the morning.

Chapter Text

17

King Jakapan

Definitely, getting sick was not something I would volunteer for. When I opened my eyes, I thought it had all been a dream—well, a nightmare, because those kinds of dreams could be nothing else.

As I expected, I was back in the huge bed where I had spent so much of my time during those long weeks. The bitter taste in my mouth told me that I wouldn't be enjoying food but rather the taste of potions.

My hand was resting on something soft, and when I looked down, I noticed my fingers were tangled in the king’s hair, his head resting on his arms propped up on the mattress. I entertained my fingers in the black hair, hoping he wouldn't wake up and discover me in that position. I had wanted to do that for a long time, and only now was I getting the chance. The peace of that contact lasted only a few seconds because my mind was flooded with unpleasant memories of the last thing I saw before losing consciousness.

Something like eggs came out of me, and Knight tried to protect me from someone—or something.

I wasn’t told everything about the poisoning, and that hurt a bit because it completely blurred the sense of well-being I had accumulated when the king said he trusted me. Was the truth so important that it needed to be kept from me?

I tried not to dwell on it too much, wanting to believe he would tell me someday, but I knew myself and knew I wouldn’t hesitate to ask him, expecting his usual refusal.

My optimistic brain began to believe that the king was trying to protect me from a much darker truth, but that didn't make sense.

"This person is going to drive me crazy," I thought with irritation, slowly removing my hand so as not to disturb the king’s sleep. I needed answers but didn’t know where to get them. I was a prisoner but at the same time, I wasn’t.

A strong hand grasped my wrist, and in a second, the king was fully awake, with sleepy eyes but an alert demeanor.

—How are you?— was his first question as he stifled a yawn.

—What happened? And please don’t insult my intelligence by telling me nothing happened and that everything is fine— I said before my courage faded away.

The king got up and moved away from me, stretching and successfully ignoring me.

“It’s not worth it,” my inner voice told me.

—We were attacked by the Varijenat family— he said after regaining his proper position.

—Did we?— I asked, though I had been told that the king was the target of those people who had disrupted the pleasant atmosphere of the presentation ball.

The king’s silence spoke volumes, and if I had the strength, I would have joined him.

—Your presentation has upset the leading members of that family. They know you're important because you're still alive—

—But... vomiting insect eggs isn’t exactly going to let me live for long— I said, somewhat disgusted. The king looked at me as if he had expected me to make that comment, but the gross memory had already returned to my mind, and I knew that nothing that had happened was normal. Also, it was an attack against me.

—I had hoped you wouldn’t remember that— the king murmured with a look of genuine regret.

—Are you going to tell me what really happened?— I said, sitting up in bed and trying to convince him— you said you trusted me. I can handle it— I tried not to sound as pleading as I felt, but I... had a right to know.

The king seemed to make a decision in his mind and turned toward me.

—If you drink all the potions without complaining, I will tell you the truth—

—The whole truth?—

—I can’t tell you the whole truth—

—That doesn’t make sense—

—You’re... quite stubborn— the king scolded me, and I inevitably thought of my home.

—If it has to do with me, I need to know— I insisted, both fearful and eager to get answers.

—The poison you consumed is scorpion venom— ah, I thought, that’s why the smell of burnt almonds — It’s a special poison that can’t be removed from the body by conventional means, like with starch derivatives—

I frowned, feeling annoyed but at the same time relieved that I was the one who had ingested the poison, not... him. There must have been more to it, but I wasn’t going to press for details just yet.

—To remove it completely, a series of herbs is required that only grow in a specific season and in a particular place.

—And in the meantime?— I said, trying not to imagine the answer.

—The poison will continue to circulate through your body, keeping you ill—

—Is that all?— I asked once more, and the king nodded, clearly unwilling to say more. —Wow...— I said as I processed those fragments of information.

What I felt most was the bitterness of those potions he had made me drink.

—Everything will be fine— the king said, apparently trying to encourage me, but I wasn’t sure if I could believe him — The apothecary’s instructions are clear. You will drink everything he gives you, and you will recover when we have the special antidote.

—Yes, sir— I said, not really knowing what I expected to hear.

The king ordered breakfast to be brought, and during our aimless conversation, I learned some details about his childhood with his brother that I didn’t know why he was sharing with me, but I found it quite pleasant.

Essentially, nothing changed because he stayed with me, accompanied me wherever I wanted to go that day, and finally, when night fell, the new path of the protagonists’ third life began: I could even call it their saga.

"In a distant future, very distant, humans will have the possibility of exploring outer space, that which we only see through the sky and try to identify the shapes formed by the stars. Yes, everyone believes it will be impossible, but if it weren’t, the story of Pete and Vegas wouldn’t exist..."

—Yes, I know. I had the same expression at that time— I said, smiling at the confusion on the king’s face. Neither of us likely believed it was or would be possible, but it was appealing to think of such a fantasy when the night sky looked so beautiful. I said this, and I think we agreed that we would go along with the story, trying not to find the many strange things that would appear in that arc too odd. We had to keep believing in the magic of this whole thing.

The stranger said that everything was possible when a soul divided into two bodies decided to find its other half beyond the mundane like time, magic, and what we consider impossible.

I coughed to clear my throat and continue telling the story as I heard it.

—The protagonists of this story are...— I wracked my brain to remember the name the stranger had given— Ah, yes. Astronauts...

King Wichapas chuckled.

—Of course... the stars— then he fell silent, urging me to continue.

"In the name of what will be known as science, humans in this story were able to travel first to the moon and then to space to ensure the survival of their species.

In this context, two humans were born in Thailand. From a young age, they looked at the stars and promised each other they would go there when they grew up, especially after their parents died in different and tragic circumstances.

They had known each other since childhood, one adopting the nickname Pete, and the other Vegas.

Vegas was serious and disciplined; Pete was cheerful and clumsy, but that didn’t prevent them from deciding in school that they could tolerate each other enough to remain friends.

Years passed. The young men grew up and were incredibly intelligent. They were the top of their class and particularly skilled in something called Physics. It was the natural science that studied the nature of fundamental components and phenomena of the universe, such as energy, matter, force, motion, space, and time.

As the 12th grade was ending, the young men’s teachers were aware of their special potential and were encouraged to study Physics after school and join the Royal Thai Air Force (Kong Thap Akat Thai). It was to this special academy that they went after graduating from school and where they proved that being the top of their education also translated to being top of the university. They learned everything needed to pilot machines that could fly at great speeds, trained physically to endure harsh environments, and always stayed together in this process. They were called the inseparables.

The day everything began, Vegas, at 20 years old, was lying on his wire bed, tossing a ball into the air and catching it with especially skilled movements when the mail officer entered, carrying all sorts of notices for the air force base. This officer threw two letters onto Vegas’s lap—one with the official seal of the Royal Air Force and another one he didn’t recognize.

Vegas set his ball aside and picked up the two documents with his heart pounding heavily. He and Pete had applied to a new university program that would allow them to fulfill their shared dream: exploring outer space, in the name of science. A notification had just arrived that would surely tell them whether they had been selected or not.

With slightly trembling fingers (he wasn’t used to letting his emotions get the best of him), Vegas opened the letter in his language and began to read. It congratulated him for his excellent performance and discharged him as an air force pilot so he could join the space program with an arranged transfer to another country. Vegas put down that letter and picked up the one in another language, reading that it said roughly the same thing, but welcomed him to something called the Aerospace Program.

Vegas had to stifle a cry of joy, and the first thing that came to his mind after processing this information was that he needed to find Pete in his barracks, who must be receiving his own notification.

He inwardly hoped that his friend had also been selected.

He ran toward the exit of his barracks and bumped head-on into a figure running in the opposite direction. As this was something that happened frequently, Vegas braced himself and managed to prevent the force of Pete’s collision from making him fall backward. Standing right in front of him was the person he had been thinking about seconds before, with his bright smile and the letters of the same color in his left hand. This told him everything he needed to know.

Both of them were going to space.

They hugged, sharing that joy, and moments later, they separated, a bit awkward from the enthusiastic display of their emotions—another reason why they were called inseparable everywhere. It had always been this way, though Pete was the more open one with his emotions.

But he was open because he had a secret he couldn’t reveal. A secret he would never reveal, and that secret was that he was in love with his friend Vegas. He appreciated him as a person and found him attractive as a man. Against everything that society of that time and place deemed acceptable. He never confessed it because he feared that once he did, their precious friendship would change. He preferred to live with unrequited love and accompany Vegas through all his adventures and life events.

They shared many similar interests and, from any angle, were perfect for each other, sharing the greater dream as well, since they were children.

Pete had received the same acceptance notification from the other country.

Both would become "astronauts."

The two friends shared their thoughts on what this new future would bring, and the first thing Pete said was that they had to celebrate. He said this while looking at Vegas, who was sitting by the bed, staring at his letter.

—Where do you want to go?— It wasn’t as if they could leave the barracks, but it was good to plan. Neither of them needed to say what they would do before embarking on an international journey; visit their hometown. They both knew they wouldn’t see it for a long time, and although they had the bitter memories of their lives, they also had good childhood memories.

—Chonburi it is. The captain will let us leave a day early—

—Very well— Vegas said, nodding in agreement.

It was true that they wanted to do this because they believed they wouldn’t see anything familiar for a long time. They didn’t know how true their premonitions were.

They packed their bags with the few things each of them had. They said goodbye to their schoolmates and headed to a terminal where they would be transported to their hometown by land.

—How do you think it will be there?— Pete asked, looking out at the fields passing by the window of their transport, which had more people than just them but was private enough for conversation.

—Chonburi?— Vegas asked.

—No, silly. Space— Pete added with a dreamy voice, as if he couldn’t wait to find out.

—Vast? Dark? Cold?— was all Vegas could respond, as he couldn’t think of another description, as that’s how he imagined it himself.

—Yeah, I guess. Though I don’t think it will be worse than our own planet—

—We won’t know until we get there—

—Are you scared?— Pete asked after a few moments of silence.

Finally, Vegas looked at Pete, and the pilot shivered from the penetrating dark gaze. It had always been this way, and Pete occasionally struggled to hide how much those eyes could intimidate him.

—No, I’m not scared. Are you?— he returned the question.

—What will you do if I say yes? It’s not like you can do anything. We’ve already been selected, and this opportunity is unique. Besides, I’m not going to let you go there alone and enjoy it without me— Pete said, laughing a little.

That was Pete, always smiling even when the occasion didn’t call for it. It was his way of facing problems even if it never solved anything. It was a trait that Vegas secretly admired.

—You have nothing to fear,— Vegas said with a confident voice and a firm look, traits from which Pete always drew courage and strength. —I will protect you.—

It was a promise that Vegas always kept because, even from a young age, he never allowed anything to happen to Pete, and he never would. Since their childhood, Vegas had taken on the role of protector, as they were both orphans and took care of each other. The bond they shared was quite strong. They... always protected each other" 

I stopped in silence, noticing the great similarity in all this protection, but I pretended to want a bit of water. The king handed it to me, not before tasting it himself. I drank the water while looking out the window, again wishing I could share the emotions of the two young men in physical science about the fact of traveling beyond the planet we walked on.

The studies of this kingdom where we lived were advanced enough for us to know that we were on a planet called Earth and that there were many things beyond the sky.

—I find this story confusing and fantastical,—

I wanted to ask him if the other stories seemed realistic enough for him to say that, but I restrained myself and smiled. That was something he had already mentioned when I started, and I couldn’t deny that I felt the same way when I heard it for the first time.

—I think in a distant future we might be able to do something like that.—

—You have too much imagination,—King Wichapas remarked.

—Don’t tell me you haven’t envisioned something like that. In the village, they say you are a king of science. The sky, the stars... their shapes and brightness...—

He didn’t deny it, because surely I was right. The kingdom was not a place where looking at the skies was prohibited. At least not yet.

—Maybe one day,— he admitted. I wasn’t sure if he was saying it just to go along with me or if he truly believed it. I smiled slightly before continuing.

“Both friends finally arrived in Chonburi amid the heat and the familiar smell. Both felt the nostalgia of their lives there, both the good and the bad memories. The friends knew that before visiting those places, they had to go to one place first: the graves of their families. Neither of them had parental ties. Perhaps that was also why they were so easily selected to leave the planet; because they had no attachments that would affect their performance.

With their backpacks, they went to the local cemetery where their families, so different in life, were now buried side by side, in the same ground. Each expressed their words and respects mentally. And they finished at the same time.

—Time for the good memories?— Pete asked, and Vegas, sighing in frustration, nodded.

They left their things at the house of Vegas’s family, which he, curiously, still kept, and headed to the tavern where they both had their first drunken experience. The bartender recognized them immediately and offered them the traditional drink with red cherry juice; Sato (rice wine).

They drank while talking about the past, the present, and the future, always with Pete’s smile and Vegas’s stern expression.

Of course, the alcohol made its way to Pete’s brain much faster than it did to Vegas’s, who tolerated alcohol as if he had two livers.

—Rain falls slowly on me...— Pete sang with surprisingly tuneful voice, raising his fiftieth glass of Sato with cherry juice. His voice, though tuneful, sounded as if his tongue was slurring, and it was a song he always sang when he was drunk.

—You’ll be able to love me off Earth...— Pete continued singing, but at that part of the song, he faltered a bit, and Vegas wasn’t sure he had heard that part of the song before since he knew Pete.

—What are you singing?— Vegas asked, taking his last sip of Sato, and Pete turned to look at him with slightly unfocused eyes, examining every inch of Vegas’s face.

—My truth,— Pete continued, losing control over his emotions because of the alcohol.

He always remained sober enough not to let loose, but the joy combined with nostalgia and other factors made him drink and lose many of his inhibitions, or his head, to be exact, without thinking if he was making a grave mistake (or not).

—I don’t think I know the title of that song.—

—How silly you are,— Pete said, laughing and resting his head on Vegas’s shoulder. —That song I made up.—

—I didn’t know you composed songs,— Vegas mentioned, noticing Pete’s tangled tongue.

—I only made that one. For you,— the young man said, sighing heavily and letting his sweet breath spill over Vegas’s neck, making his hairs stand on end due to the warmth of that breath and the deep intimacy it conveyed.

For Vegas, this behavior was far from normal because Pete, though smiling and sentimental, was not so passionate when he spoke drunk.

—And...— Vegas cleared his throat a bit and took another sip of his Sato without moving his shoulder where Pete kept resting his head. —..why just for me?— he dared to ask, only hoping that Pete would lose all traces of functional brain activity due to the alcohol.

—Don’t you know that I love you?— Pete whispered as if he were confessing a great state secret. Indeed, it was, except in his state, this for Vegas was nothing more than the ramblings of a drunk person. But still, he couldn’t help but feel unsettled because he never thought Pete would say something like that so openly. And at the same time, something he had hoped for a long time. The sad thing was that no one could assure him that it was anything more than just his imagination. No. Pete couldn’t love him, at least not in the way Vegas wanted; as a man. Maybe he loved him as a friend, or even more cruelly, as a brother. And in his drunken state, he couldn’t ask him.

—As a brother?— Vegas said, trying to suppress his own insecurity and not think of anything so fanciful. He noticed that Pete sighed heavily again, giving him that unsettling feeling on his neck.

—When we were kids, maybe. You were my Phi. I could see you as one, and nothing would happen. But when we grew up... you can’t be my brother, Vegas.—

Once Vegas had heard that the only humans who told the truth were drunk people and children. And at that moment, at least mentally, Pete was like a very drunk child.

—Aren’t we brothers?— Vegas asked, feeling his pulse increase in his temples because he had always wanted to disguise those dark and inappropriate feelings to avoid exposing himself.

Finally, Pete lifted his head from Vegas’s shoulder to look at him with those chocolate-colored eyes, sleepy from the alcohol.

—No, we can’t be brothers,— Pete said again, moving closer and breathing heavily over Vegas’s face, but his eyes weren’t looking at Vegas’s but at his mouth.

He didn’t believe that...

Pete kissed him lightly, but the subtle contact made Vegas’s brain disorder. It tasted of sweet alcohol and excess truth, which alerted Vegas.

A very dark part of him told him that it wasn’t right to take advantage of that situation to silence his hidden feelings, but he was struggling to contain himself before his drunken temptation.

He knew that such actions could end a friendship. Finally, he just let Pete keep his lips on his for as long as he wanted.

Since Vegas didn’t move or do anything, Pete eventually pulled away slowly, smiling with resignation. Seconds later, and before Vegas could say or do anything else or even react, his friend fell unconscious in his arms.

The bartender looked at them understandingly and helped Vegas get Pete on his back to take him back to Vegas’s family home.

When they arrived there, he entered with difficulty due to his drunk burden but managed to head to a usable room.

Vegas laid Pete’s body on a bed, and when he was about to get up, a hand grabbed his wrist with force, something that someone as unconscious from alcohol shouldn’t have. But Pete had the soul and body of a fighter, and his past as a wrestling expert must have given him that strength. Vegas tried to free himself, but Pete wouldn’t let go. With how easily his skin marked, the next day he would have all of his friend’s fingers imprinted on his forearm.

—Are you going to leave?— Pete said, and Vegas could barely understand him because of the weakness in his voice.

—I’ll go to another room. Sleep. You’ll have a terrible hangover tomorrow.—

—Why do you want to go to another room? This bed is big enough for both of us,— Pete murmured, pulling on Vegas’s hand to get him to sleep with him.

Vegas, who had slept in the same bed with Pete before, knew that his friend moved, kicked, and grabbed everything within reach of his body. It wouldn’t be a comfortable night. But he couldn’t refuse since he loved Pete so much, and the boy always found a way to convince him of anything.

—Hopefully you won’t remember this tomorrow. You’ll feel too silly,— Vegas murmured, climbing to the other side of the bed, making Pete release his wrist but knowing that his friend would jump on him to keep him from leaving if he made a move to go.

—I won’t,— Pete affirmed with a slurred voice, and Vegas only wondered if he would forget so flagrantly that they had kissed, something they had never done.

He didn’t want to think about what would happen the next day, so he simply lay on his back and jumped when Pete’s figure hugged him and rested"

Chapter Text

King Jakapan 

“Vegas was somewhat flabbergasted. He was near Pete before but never in such situation. 

"I will always protect you"

Protection. 

First instinct and the reason of mindless choices”

Back in reality, I looked at the king who was watching me.

—So they are in love with each other, but they don't know,— I said.

—Correct,—I nodded. —Lord Unknown said that it was sad when someone loved a person and believed that the feeling was unilateral.—

—I guess that is right,— mumbled the king, and while we remained silent, the customary sound of paradise birds surrounded us. —Those are the words that are not said and get us to regret.—

—Has it happened to you before?— I asked boldly, expecting his refusal. He looked at me, denying with a gesture.

—I always say what needs to be said.—

It wasn't true, and we both knew it. He kept hiding things from me, and my guess was that it was difficult for him to trust me, not even a little.

We kept looking at each other, and I was about to tell him why he was looking at me with such depth, but we were interrupted by soft knocks on the wooden door. The king spoke, and we were now looking at  Knight, whose face was dark and worried. He greeted us with a bow, but his face remained the same.

—My lord,— he addressed King Wichapas. —There is a matter that requires your presence immediately.—

At this hour and early in the morning, surely it was really important, and I could not help but notice the subtle looks exchanged between them. They were like talking with their looks and in a code I did not know. I just looked at them with curiosity.

The king left with Knight, saying he would be back soon.

I looked around at my precious cage, also known as a room, hoping everything would be okay.

King Wichapas

The dying face of the apothecary stared back at me as soon as I entered the healer's house. I took visual note of every detail from the macabre scene, trying to find any clue or something that would give me a light on the now more than obvious plot in my own palace. 

First the Varijenats and now this. My palace was supposed to be a safe place. My brother was already there, and in his hands, he had a tissue and a flask with a strong odor.

As I saw it, that was what the apothecary was holding when his body was found, and Ta said it smelled like an antidote. It seemed that the apothecary tried to ingest it to save his life, and Ta was whispering the ingredients. He was smelling, showing off his extensive studies in herbalism.

Then he passed the tissue over the apothecary’s now-black lips, trying to identify the poison he ingested, which, from what I saw, and unlike the one used on my husband, was of immediate effect. I didn't know what all this meant, but theories began to take shape in my active brain, full of suspicion of a plot to assassinate Jakapan and remove me from power. Another theory was the presence of a man brought into my ranks who had managed to infiltrate like a particularly forked and unreachable snake.

No one but the Knight, my brother, and I knew the importance of the apothecary at that time, especially with what had to do with saving Jakapan’s life. It seemed that this guy also found out and used the easiest method to kill the apothecary. He would not have drunk anything that no one he trusted offered him, which could say a lot about a spy and that he or she was someone known by the staff. I tried to ignore the recent pressure in my chest at the now more than materialized possibility of not being able to do anything about the progress of my husband’s poisoning disease. If I didn't do something, he would die, and I...

—P´Wichapas...— I heard my brother’s voice calling me. I was too engrossed in all the scenarios that presented themselves in my head, and they all involved the death of the consort. With all the imminence of the case, he held my hand moments before, and I was squeezing his too tightly. Then I let go of him right away, and the boy rubbed his fingers together.

—Forgive me," I said, hoping he would understand, and by the look he gave me, he did.

—P´Wichapas... I could go in the apothecary’s place.—The refusal was on the tip of my tongue, but before I could say it, my brother spoke again. —You have no other choice. I could stay in the palace making potions for P'Brother-in-law with the remaining plants. I will then travel to Aitama when the right time comes,—he said all that with a security that comforted me in the middle of my anxiety attack. I was really thinking of risking the life of my baby brother in exchange for my husband’s, and I was feeling no regret at all.

Ta always said he was not a little boy anymore, and at this moment, he was just showing it to me. Dad scarred us in ways only we knew, but at the end of the day, we just had each other’s backs. Ta wanted to assume responsibility and risk, and even if I was worried about him, I was no one to stop him. He was of age 5 months ago.

—Knight, prepare an appropriate funeral, hiding his body. The official communication will be that he had a heart stroke. Give his family the appropriate compensation and make sure they will be fine for the rest of their lives,— I spoke quickly. —Ta, I...—

—Everything will be alright, Phi... I will stay here until winter, so you better give me the delicious food I deserv. In exchange I will keep P'Brother-in-law alive. Trust me.—

—I trust you.— Ta was right, and I knew that from now on I couldn't trust this mission to anyone else. I couldn't spare Knight's list now when the spy was getting closer.

Both Ta and I knew beforehand what the word trust meant to us.

Apart from Ta’s well-being and making the Varijenat pay for everything they were doing, my thoughts were addressed to Jakapan and my will to spend my time with him because I wouldn't have the time in the future to do so.

—Go with him, phi— mumbled Ta. —I will handle the rest with Knight.—

The captain looked at my brother for a second and then nodded, agreeing with him. I nodded, looking one last time at the clean room of the apothecary. I left before the smell of death and deception took the best of me. I had to stop and rub my chest when I felt my lack of air.

"He can’t die," the other person in me said, using my voice and transmitting his worry to my whole body. Even having the power of my rank, I couldn't do anything with this except feel the hate and desire for revenge joined with desperation.

What was the use of being a king if I was not omnipotent? Why was this title given to me if I couldn't even...?

Why did all this feel like destiny’s revenge for all the lives I took in the middle of my own pain?

Yes, I was a sinner. I knew that a long time ago I lost my place in paradise, but only now I was starting to enjoy, to really enjoy life. I cursed and hit the wall, almost breaking my hand.

Was it really worth it to fight against destiny?

The look of war, compassion, and decision in my brother's eyes told me yes, it was worth it. The soft eyes of Jakapan told me so, too.

—I am not going to lose you,— I told the air, and against the odds, I would make sure that Jakapan Puttha was happy. Step-by-step, even if I did not have time.

The whole plan was formed in my head.

"I am not going to lose you."

King Jakapan

King Wichapas still did not return. I had to accept that I missed him. I was so accustomed and addicted to his presence that I couldn't stand the fact that we were apart.

I had a coughing fit, and I held the tissue strongly against my mouth, trying to muffle the sound. The tissue had blood in it, blood that I thought came from my lungs. This had been happening to me for days. Now that I knew, or almost knew, what it was, I washed and cleaned my mouth, and I kept waiting for the king to tell him this new symptom. But the one I told was finally the other royal member that day who came into our room, Prince Ta. His royal clothes contrasted notably with the whole paraphernalia he had with him.

—Prince Ta...— I tried to ask him why he was here, and he just answered that he would replace the apothecary from now on. I didn't dare to question him. The old man, though meticulous, was not for  small talk , and I liked the prince. The thing was that it was weird, so I just decided to ask him at the right moment. He noticed the tissue with my blood in my hand. I noticed he was reluctant to tell me, but I learned from him that he was really sensitive to people begging him in a tender way, so I begged. He took his eyes off me and told me what I thought was the truth.

—The apothecary was murdered.—

I recoiled when I heard him, and in my head, I prayed for the old man, wondering who would kill someone like him. Prince Ta started to make a potion right there in silence while I assimilated what I just heard and started connecting the dots with the strange events happening now in my life.

—You do not look surprised,— Prince Ta commented while turning on a candle under the glass where he mixed some ingredients that the apothecary didn't use because he just got the potions from his room and then brought them here. I assumed that was easier for me to ingest the whole potion this way.

—I...— I was not sure about what I should say before the prince, because even if he was my husband's brother, we belonged to different ranks. He was at the top, and I was a mere consort. —The king told me that his family was plotting against him, and this apothecary's death makes me think that they are involved somehow. I also feel compassion for Mr. Apothecary’s family, and I wonder why someone would poison an old man like him.— I said no other word because I didn’t know or didn’t want to know the method by which he left this world. The prince looked at me seriously.

—I think it was an excellent choice of my brother to tell you all this. I am sorry to say this so frankly, but these attacks are not going to stop unless my brother's intervention. Only diplomacy stops him from doing so without solid proof.—

The prince must be referring to what the king said about not being able to take that family to judgment. I looked at my hands, holding strongly the velvet blanket that was protecting me from the cold.

—You are going to stay by my brother’s side, right?— he asked, leaving aside for a second his herbalist persona to ask me such a weird question.

—As long as I live,— that was meant to be my answer, but I held back. I felt empty, a feeling that had little to do with the fear or sorrow for the closeness of death but everything to do with shame.

—Maybe he does not want me to stay by his side,— I confessed, laughing falsely. —I think that since I am sick, I became more like a burden he has to deal with.—

The prince refused with his head. He turned off the candle and put the glass with my potion inside a cup of cold water.

—I don't think so, but even if I tell you, you will not believe me,— said the prince with an almost pragmatic tone, getting out the glass and offering it to me with kindness. I wanted to change topics because I wasn't strong enough to argue and definitely not strong enough to feel hope and then just get disappointed in a cycle without end.

The prince said that his brother was different because of me, and I believed him because I couldn't convince myself without feeling panic before all those intense emotions that all these events caused in my life.

I took the glass from his hands, bowing thanks, and I drank it, trying to control my face. It tasted really bitter. The prince smiled because of my face, and that smile, together with the thing getting into my body, gave me instant relief.

—Don’t worry about Mr. Apothecary. His family will be okay.—

So he realized my empathy and my growing fear for all the darkness that was growing over us. The king was affecting me, and not because I was his consort, but because the idea of him in danger was disturbing for me.

—I am scared,— I admitted before the prince who was putting his things in order.

—My brother...— he looked back at me, and I was prey to those penetrating eyes that both of them possessed. —He will protect you no matter what.–

The prince was talking about the future. He wanted me not to be afraid and to trust his brother. I could see he loved him dearly.

—I know,— I said, clearing my throat. —But I want him safe. I don’t want him to be hurt because of me.—

—You are just a couple of idiots,— the boy said, without respect and fully believing that I and his brother were just getting on his last nerve.

—I am sorry...—

—Well, I guess it’s true that reality hits harder,— he stood up and took his things. —I will leave now. Goodbye, P'Brother-in-law.—

And with all that nonsense, he left, leaving me with my head spinning and my body feeling lightly better.

With the potion, I stopped spitting blood.

I spent the rest of the day alone. A servant brought me some books and food that I ate gladly. He mentioned some details about the apothecary’s death but nothing really important that I didn't already know thanks to the prince. He also mentioned that my husband’s brother would be the new Royal physician.

—Where is the king?— I asked, failing to not seem anxious for the king’s absence.

—He is busy with the kingdom's chores. He will be back soon.—

I looked at my books and felt no interest in them. I wanted to go to the garden where I would have more possibilities of finding the king. I asked the Knight if it was safe to walk in the palace like before, and he denied with his head.

—No, sir. It is not safe right now.—

I felt alone because even if I had all these commodities in my golden cage, that same cage kept closing its walls around me.

Damned Vari-whatever.

The only thing I have left to do now is to wait for my only companion, the only person listening to me, and the person I feel something special for. I read for hours, but finally, I had to stop and think about the words of the prince, especially the thing he said about the king being different. Could the king really like me because of me and not for the stories I was telling?

I walked to clear my mind, and I decided to put in an extra effort with the clothes I would use tonight. If I wanted the king to like me, I should start by looking good, even if my whole clothes were beautiful and brand new. Putting in an extra effort was also a way to show the king that I appreciated, especially the time we spent together.

Ready, I looked at myself in the mirror, an object that surely would become my best friend from now on. Then I just waited.

King Wichapas

Keeping myself away from my main source of worry, at least for that day, was somewhat therapeutic. But I knew that the most therapeutic and relieving thing for me would be to go to his side and let myself be enveloped by the magic he possessed.

Finally, when I couldn't put it off any longer—whether it was because my own body urged me to go to him or my own anxiety wanted a little more time to assimilate that I had additional purposes to the ones I already decided—my steps led me towards the only solace I had found since I was a child.

I opened the door, and the first thing my eyes found was Jakapan's figure with his back to me, sitting on the window sill, looking absorbedly at the night sky while the strands of his long hair swayed by the action of the nightly breeze coming in through the window.

Immediately upon hearing me, he turned towards me, and I was able to drink in his adorable image, especially beautiful on that cool night. The paleness of his skin was much better hidden, but that didn't diminish his potential attractiveness in any way.

Without saying anything, I simply watched as he stood up and took slow steps toward me. He stopped when we were face to face, and his eyes looked at me as if they were asking for some kind of authorization. Since I did nothing but look at him and allow his scent to penetrate my nose, Jakapan hugged me by the waist. He didn't seem to be strong enough to hug me more tightly, but I could notice... longing and worry.

For me.

I let myself be enveloped by the strange sensation as well as by his arms and didn't think about what could have caused him to want this contact. I let my own arms wrap around him.

The atmosphere around us seemed to celebrate this closeness, and when it was politically incorrect for us to continue hugging, we separated a bit.

—Jakapan...—

—I missed you so much, my lord,— he said in a low voice. —I'm sorry...—

I could understand everything despite the thinness of his voice. He missed me. I didn't know if it was with the same passion that I missed him, but he admitted it.

—I'm sorry,— I murmured, returning his apology. —For everything.—

I didn't even know if we were talking about the same thing, but I wanted his indulgence so that the feeling that I was the one who dragged him into all of this would stop eating away at me a little.

Jakapan shook his head and, taking my arm, invited me to follow him to the place he claimed as his own, urging me to sit on the other side of the window sill.

—It's time,— he said in a tone of feigned warning, and adjusting myself as best I could, I let his ethereal image and my own imagination lead me through the nooks and crannies that Jakapan wanted.

“Pete felt like he had a monkey next to his head that was hammering his brain. He tried to open his eyes, but the daylight was as if someone were stabbing them. He let out a grunt and moved to get comfortable on the opposite side of the light.

—Damn,— he murmured.—When am I going to keep the promises I make to myself?—

What he was talking about was that he didn't tolerate alcohol well, and knowing this, he decided to ignore it and let nostalgia take away his goodwill... An image suddenly came to his memory, and it was Vegas's face very close to his own. Like when someone kisses someone.

Pete shook his head to clear the memory, and the only conclusion he came to, because of the way his head hurt, was that it was a dream or his vivid imagination. He didn't remember any foolishness he had done the night before and was mortified because he thought he surely put Vegas in an embarrassing condition.

"You're an idiot," he told himself. Now he would have to go through the embarrassment of asking his friend what kind of foolishness he did the night before.

He sat up, gathering the willpower he had left, and let himself be guided by his nose more than by his memories of that place.

It was Vegas's childhood home.

Just as he expected, he found Vegas in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, and he tried not to make a sound so as not to startle him, dedicating himself to looking at the most important person in his life, in more than one sense, but who would never know it.

With a broad back and precise movements, Vegas prepared what smelled like rice and chicken soup.

—Good morning,— Pete made his presence known and noticed that his friend's back became rigid and he stopped his movements.

"Oh, no," he thought. "I surely did something last night to embarrass him." That was the only thing Pete could think of while Vegas turned to return the greeting. His face was tense, and Pete had no choice but to offer a bow of apology.

—I'm so sorry for embarrassing you yesterday, for vomiting on you, and for you having to bring me home while I told you the whole way that I would never drink again.—

Vegas remained silent upon hearing this because that was indeed part of everything that happened. He wasn't apologizing for "everything."

At that moment, Vegas couldn't know if Pete remembered anything about what happened between them before he became a drunken mess. He wondered if he remembered that which was beyond the friendship they shared, but he wouldn't be the one to bring it up because he couldn't. Maybe not because he didn't want to, but because if what happened was only the fault of alcohol and Pete's clouded mind, nothing should change between them.

He just couldn't.

—Oh,— he said, trying to give the phrase the tone of unimportance that it required. —It's nothing. It's not like I've never seen you drunk before,— Vegas said in a monotone voice, turning back to continue cooking and trying to prevent his heart from jumping out of his throat or his voice from trembling and giving him away.

—I'm sorry. Whenever this happens, I say I won't touch a drop of alcohol again, and I end up like this.—

Vegas just made a sound of agreement and served the soup when it was ready.

Just as he thought, Pete didn't remember anything, and that was fine. Neither of them needed to delve into the other's feelings in those moments where the most important events of both of their lives would take place.

Perhaps, just perhaps, after fulfilling their mission, they would have enough time to think about their personal lives.

After their last day of rest, both men began their journey to the base of something called NASA, where they would be trained to leave the planet. It took them exactly one year to adapt their bodies to the conditions that awaited them outside. They were instructed on how to walk on a floor where nothing was stable, how to survive, and how to use different clothes that were special for that environment where you also couldn't breathe normally.

None of that was an impediment for the friends, as they had been preparing for anything that came their way.

The mission they had was to explore the surface of the planet Mars and take evidence of what was predicted to happen, an event called a planetary alignment that only takes place every few thousand years.

A unique opportunity.

The astronauts would orbit and extend their trips for seven months. Since no one else would go with them, they learned to handle the ship that would take them to their destination, and when the moment finally arrived, both friends were finishing dressing to enter their chosen method of travel.

During the training, Vegas dedicated himself to analyzing (even more) his friend, fostering what he considered unhealthy feelings. Pete's tenderness, combined with the gestures of affection towards Vegas and the need to be constantly by each other's side, made them closer and made the hidden feelings each one had for the other grow much stronger.

Destiny brought them together, and now both would leave the planet.

Both got on the ship while all the people around them finished doing all the last-minute checks to ensure it would be a safe trip.

Once inside, each man was secured to his chair because the speed used to leave the planet was too much. The launch off the planet would be coordinated from the ground. They would only pilot the ship once they were orbiting the planet.

Both friends looked at each other while everything below them began to vibrate as the ground crew carried out what they called the countdown.

The vibration grew stronger, and the voice of the leader saying to get ready filled the cabin where both friends were.

Pete closed his eyes because the launch was something that always scared him. Vegas, on the other hand, looked towards the black sky that awaited them.

The vibration was now not only below them but throughout the entire structure, and finally, they began to move. A series of flashes combined with fuel smoke was what could be made out from their windows. Finally, the two astronauts were pushing against the atmosphere so that the force of gravity would release them and allow them to leave the planet.

The ship was designed to withstand that kind of pressure, and finally, with their heads vibrating, the ship exited to the outside of Earth.

—Open your eyes, Pete,— said Vegas's muffled voice. Pete heard him and tried to obey, although it was a bit difficult. He felt that his stomach had stayed on Earth along with part of his courage. But he did what Vegas asked when their flight became stable.

Black...

Everything was black with many white dots that seemed to be those stars that both used to look at when they were on the planet. It wasn't until the ship turned that the bright, blue, and white contrast of the planet Earth jumped into view. Both men were left breathless contemplating the external beauty of the planet where they grew up and which was watching them move away. Suddenly, from their perspective, humans were so small and fragile, just like the beautiful planet.

Vegas noticed that Pete's eyes were slightly moist. They finally looked at each other and smiled in a similar way, thinking exactly the same thing.

Some things were worth it.

*

For three months, they had almost the same routine. They had to send photographs of their different positions in relation to the Earth's rotation and translation, studies of distances between the sun and the moon, forecasts about their arrival at Mars, and samples of everything that stuck to the outside of the ship.

Vegas and Pete took turns going outside, and when they were out at the same time, they played by floating around the ship, chasing each other within the limitations that their external space imposed on them. In space, there was nothing that kept humans stuck to the ground of Earth, so they had to be secured at all times with slings to avoid floating aimlessly. Orbiting the Earth allowed them to have a magnificent visual spectacle while they tried to reach each other.

This day would be the last that they would orbit the Earth. When they stopped facing the sun, they would begin their long journey of almost four months to the neighboring planet.
Pete was floating above the ship, his body secured to the sling preventing him from floating away. He looked into the infinite while Vegas finished changing a last-minute part.

Doing this was the only thing that worked for him to alleviate the headache he had been feeling for several days, which he had managed to hide very well from his friend. He didn't tell him because he knew he would worry, and that was the last thing he wanted to do, especially when all their concentration was on the success of this mission.

—What are you looking at?— Pete heard Vegas's voice on his intercom device, something that allowed them to communicate with each other when they were outside.

—Mars,— Pete said jokingly, a joke he knew Vegas wouldn't fall for because it wasn't true; they couldn't see Mars from where they were located.

—Be serious,— Vegas said. Pete heard him working on the corresponding part of the artifact that gave the ship direction.

—The color black?— Pete tried to say, hiding a bout of pain that assaulted his right temple.

—You don't like the color black,— Vegas murmured, seemingly concentrated on his task but attentive to everything Pete said.

Pete huffed, annoyed that Vegas knew him so well. He tried to think of something to convince him to stop asking and not fall into the temptation of telling him what was really happening to him.

—I just... I wonder what will happen when we get to Mars.—

That, in fact, was not even remotely what he was worried about, but for once, it worked.

—We will take the samples. We will return to Earth as heroes,— Vegas said as if he were reciting a perfectly learned poem.

—Do you think Mars could be our new home?— Pete asked, closing his eyes and hoping that the bout of pain would subside.

—I don't think I would mind, as long as we are both there,— Vegas commented almost distractedly, which made Pete open his eyes, temporarily forgetting his headache.
Since the trip began, Pete had noticed a change in Vegas.

He noticed that on more occasions than he could remember, his friend would say those phrases that inherently and almost romantically involved them.

None of that helped Pete's feelings for Vegas subside even a little. And since it always left him speechless when he did that, he didn't know exactly what to answer.

—Why do you say that?— Pete laughed, trying to play down the importance.

—Because you are my home.—

Pete wondered if Vegas was suffering from some kind of space dementia or something similar, because even though they were lifelong friends, Vegas had never used an adjective like that to refer to Pete. He did little to hide his confusion.

—You're crazy. How can I be your home? We're barely the same height,— he decided to play the role of the innocent who didn't want to see the hidden meaning of Vegas's phrase.

Vegas finished fitting the part and floated to where Pete was. He deliberately propelled his space suit in a way that he landed on top of Pete, without any kind of delicacy.

—What did I say? You're insane!— Pete exclaimed, holding him tightly to prevent Vegas from floating off into space. He secured him with his own sling and gave him a reprimanding punch in the ribs.

—Do you really not know what I mean when I say you are my home?— Vegas asked, adopting the same position as Pete, floating aimlessly and looking at the vast outer space.

—I guess it means you can't live without me,— Pete boasted, thinking only that he wanted to make it seem like a joke. But the seriousness of Vegas's response made him stop.

—Well, you're very smart. Because that's exactly it,— Vegas confessed openly, and finally, Pete looked him in the eyes as Vegas seemed to have been waiting for.

—What? You can't live without me?—

—Indeed,— the young Vegas admitted, and Pete didn't know what else to do. His heart was quite agitated, and that made his cheeks burn because the special suits that allowed them to be outside the ship had intercoms between them, and also vital signs monitors that could be heard by the other so that, in case something happened to one of them, the other could help. Vegas was surely hearing at that moment how Pete's heart was out of control.

Before Pete could open his mouth to defend the little dignity he still had, he noticed that something gray and of considerable size was approaching them, emitting a strange glow.

Pete held on to Vegas, and both floated as far as the sling allowed, moving them out of the way when something a little larger passed by and almost ran them over.

—What is that?— Pete asked. Both retrieved the sling and entered the ship while they heard as if a rain of stones was falling on them. They maneuvered the ship in an emergency to get out of the way of what seemed to be a rain of rocks large enough to see how they perforated the atmosphere in many places.

Pete was trying to communicate with the control center on Earth, but no one was answering, and both astronauts had to remain as spectators watching the planet under attack.

Approximately an hour later, they were able to communicate, and they were informed that it was a rain of space rocks, that nothing bad was happening, and that the mission should continue as scheduled. It seemed that it was just space junk.

But upon looking at each other, both friends came to the conclusion that it was something more. When the communication ended, Pete commented randomly.

—Knowing that we are here, they shouldn't hide information from us.—

Vegas agreed with him, and both knew that they had to find the truth one way or another.

Chapter Text

King Wichapas

I fell asleep at that point because exhaustion and worry had finally drained whatever it was that gave energy to my body. I would probably have to ask Jakapan later to resume the story from the moment sleep kept me from staying attentive.

In truth, I couldn’t rest very well because my worries carried over into my dreams, where the worst scenarios played out and my nightmares became more vivid. I opened my eyes to reality, feeling relief upon realizing that I was still in the present. I found myself lying in bed, clinging to the silk blanket that somehow still held Jakapan’s sweet scent.

Surely, in the insecurity of my sleep, the real-life version of me had looked for something to hold on to, so I wouldn’t feel like I had lost everything…

Where was Jakapan?

That was the first coherent question I could ask myself, because I was so used to waking up and having him by my side that the first thing my eyes looked for when I awoke was him — and not seeing him unsettled me.

I quickly sat up and walked briskly toward the chamber door, holding back just a little from calling out for Knight, because in the spacious area visible just beyond the rooms, there was a royal consort sitting comfortably on cushions, reading a book.

Without knowing exactly why (although I think I did know), I felt relieved — even more so when I noticed that his pallor had faded.

—I'm sorry,— he said when he noticed my sudden presence. He set the book aside and looked at me. —You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t dare make a sound—

—Are you bored?— was the first thing that came to mind when I noticed the book and the dark circles under his eyes. I remembered Knight had told me that Jakapan had asked about the gardens and whether it would be possible to visit them like before. He said he had refused, waiting for my directive. For now, the Varijenat were under control — or at least they would be while my men continued investigating the attack on the night of the ball.

I had never cared before if someone living in my palace felt like a prisoner, but even I could see that I couldn’t keep Jakapan in a glass box forever — even if, deep down, that was exactly what I wanted.

The uncertainty I saw in his eyes, mixed with a yearning for some freedom, made something in my chest tighten uncomfortably. I had never paid attention to the feeling of guilt, because I had never needed to. But when my stubborn mind wandered to how peaceful Jakapan’s life might have been if I had never interfered, I couldn’t stop feeling disturbed.

—I... it’s safer if...— he began to say, but I interrupted him.

—Come with me,— I offered my hand to help him stand, and when he did, I gestured for him to take my arm so we could walk.

I led us toward the gardens he apparently liked so much.

The morning sun gave everything a special hue, and the shine of the morning dew was still visible on the leaves.

I noticed the royal consort taking a deep breath, clearly trying to fill his lungs with fresh air. The smile that crept across his face made his dimples stand out unmistakably. I led us through the long winding paths of the garden, feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays. Nature exuded a kind of peace that, at least for me, I had long been yearning for.

It felt as though I, too, needed nature. As though it was in nature that I truly belonged.

—Did you sleep well?— Jakapan asked, and I finally forced myself to move from my current position, head tilted toward the sky, basking in the sunlight,  to look at him.

—Very well. I think I missed part of the story,— I confessed a little sheepishly. —I find your voice fascinating and relaxing.—

—I... you looked tired. I just wanted you to get a little more rest.—

Yes, maybe it was true that I was tired, but that physical exhaustion, combined with guilt and worry, had been the perfect potion to drag me into sleep.

I sighed, feeling foolish for wanting to continue this conversation — but my husband made the words I had kept hidden for so long come rushing to the surface.

—I'm... tired,— I admitted, though that word encompassed far more than I was willing to say aloud.

Suddenly I was tired of hiding my emotions for fear of being hurt. Tired of always playing the role of the demanding king no one could love the way I longed for. Tired of living under the constant threat of what I had built. Tired of pretending.

The more real the possibility of Jakapan’s death became, the more tired of everything I felt.

I noticed the look of compassion in his eyes, and only because it was him did I not feel uncomfortable. I had to admit it; I wanted, no, I yearned for Jakapan to feel something for me that wasn’t negative.

—I wish I could do something,— my husband said, and for a second, I wanted to shout at him that the only thing he could do for me was to stay alive but that would scare him, and that was the last thing I needed in that moment.

—You and your stories are all I need,— I said to the air, and the very air itself seemed to agree, wrapping around us almost comfortingly.

Jakapan’s laughter was like balm on a burn.

—If that is the king’s wish,— he said with a playful bow that, under different circumstances, I would have immediately taken as mockery but coming from him, I only felt strangely amused. I felt like I would do anything to protect that expression of joy.

If Ta could read my thoughts in that moment, he would surely have enough material to mock me for the rest of our lives.

—Sorry,— Jakapan apologized when he noticed I was staring at his face like a lovesick fool.

He smiled again, and we continued walking through the garden until my steps inevitably brought us to the ruins of my ancestors — the remnants of the palace I had once shown him before.

—It would be wonderful if this place could be restored...—

I believed I remembered him saying something similar before. I understood his reasoning — in its moment of glory, the structure must have been magnificent. Despite the rust and the encroachment of nature, the design could still be identified, and it was a shame that everything had been allowed to fall into ruin like this.

I had never asked my late parents, nor any of my other distant relatives, why our ancestors had let this place decay. But somehow, I had the feeling that even if I tried to restore it all, the very nature that had overtaken it would resist me.

—It’s not the right time,— I whispered, but despite the low tone, Jakapan seemed to hear me.

We arrived at the courtyard of the structure, where the fountain was covered in weeds and black vines, and the worn stone was hidden behind them.

Jakapan sat on the edge and smiled again, as if he felt more at ease here. I sat down as well, a little farther from him.

—We could make this place our refuge for storytelling,— He said, wanting to ask if I really liked it that much. —You could listen to me here, whenever you have time during the day.—

—Why do you like it here so much?— I asked.

—Don’t you?— he replied, with curiosity. I thought seriously about it, and only managed to come up with a response that was, at the very least, honest.

—It’s... rather gloomy.—

—It is,— Jakapan said, looking around  but those bright eyes contradicted the opinion entirely. —But there’s peace. When we’re here, it feels like we’re the only people on the planet.—

Yes, he was right. Even though it seemed that time and nature were still fighting to see which would destroy the place first, the silence broken only by the sounds of flora and fauna was all the background music we needed.

—When I listen to you... it feels that way.—

We looked at each other for a few moments, and once again I felt that strange electricity coursing through me, as if the very environment was reacting to our closeness.

"Vegas agreed, and both of them realized they needed to find the truth one way or another. Suddenly, the entire mission felt strange. Both were skilled in the art of uncovering lies except, apparently, when it came to themselves. That’s why it wasn’t hard to deceive one of the control technicians back on Earth, who gave them information the two astronauts should never have received, but somehow managed to obtain.

The planetary alignment opened a portal to another terrestrial plane, another universe, destroyed by 'the Exterminator.' This was an asteroid (a massive rocky celestial body) whose path hadn’t been stopped by the many planets it collided with in that alternate plane.

The energy produced by the aligned planetary cores in the solar system caused a rupture large enough for 'the Exterminator' to pass into their own universe, its course now set toward Earth.

What had fallen upon them in recent days were planetary debris accompanying the massive Exterminator. Its trajectory couldn’t be changed. It would crash into Earth.

When both friends received the full contents of the information, they looked at each other with expressions that ranged from confusion to horror. How was it possible that this information had been kept from them? Did Earth know all along this was happening?

Vegas wondered if he and his friend would’ve been so willing to go into space had they known what was really going on.

Silence reigned in the cabin as they both absorbed the truth. But wise minds began to contemplate their next move. Surely, the planet had some method to ensure the survival of the human race. It was just a matter of finding it.

*

As hours passed, Pete’s headache worsened. The young astronaut felt an increasing pressure behind his eyes, and it was getting harder to hide it from Vegas. He noticed his friend’s worried looks and hoped Vegas assumed it was because of Earth’s fate — not because Pete was ill.

Four days passed in that state, until finally they received an official transmission from Earth.

—The spacecraft you’re on is carrying something important. It’s equipment that will ensure the survival of the human race,— said the message, cryptic and convoluted.

—What does that mean?— Vegas asked, unconcerned with whether he was speaking to a high-ranking official. Whoever was giving them this information had an expression that didn’t sit right with Pete. 
As expected, that person wasn’t telling the truth. The official began speaking again:

—There’s nothing to be done for Earth. You must reach outer space and leave there the equipment loaded onto your ship into another planet.—

—Why didn’t anyone tell us this before?— Vegas demanded.

—You wouldn’t have agreed to go if you had known.—

It was logical — and blunt — but that didn’t make it any less grave.

—We won’t be able to return,— Pete said. It wasn’t a question  it was a statement, and the tremor in his voice told Vegas how frightened he was. The silence from the official said everything. There would be no planet left to return to. The Exterminator would have reduced it to dust by then. He and Vegas… would reach other planet to repopulate.

—Good night,— said the official, cutting off the transmission, and Vegas cursed loudly, trying to reestablish the connection.

—Everyone on Earth… are they going to die?—

Neither of them needed to say the answer out loud"

...—I don’t understand,— I interrupted, hoping my storyteller would get the message. Jakapan laughed, just like before, and finally confessed. The midday heat had turned into the soft breeze of the afternoon as I listened to Jakapan. But it was still clear enough to keep going, and I could allow myself this interruption. I looked at Jakapan’s smile, a little exasperated.

—You're just like me.—

—Huh?—

—I stopped the stranger at that exact moment too. I asked the mysterious man, and I think he smiled when I demanded an explanation. I’m not sure, though, the cloak he wore had a hood that covered half his face. Anyway, in the story, the two friends had been sent, without knowing it themselves, with special equipment to colonize a planet. Earth had always known about the Exterminator’s arrival, and no short, or medium-term plan had worked. The massive rock would crash into the planet. The final plan was never to save Earth, but to preserve the human species. Everyone who knew had already accepted that the Exterminator couldn’t be stopped.—

—So… everyone on the planet is going to die?— I asked, inevitably.

—Yes. That’s what was decided the moment they were sent.—

—But they wouldn’t let that happen,— I said with conviction, because I was sure Pete wouldn’t allow the planet to be destroyed just like that. And after all, both friends were soldiersm honor was in their blood.

Jakapan simply sighed and continued telling the story.

"Pete entered a device that could generate a specific report on his current health status. It was part of the equipment brought from Earth.

He did it because, as the hours passed, his headache kept getting worse  to the point of becoming unbearable. And it was even harder to bear now that he knew the full truth about their mission and the danger humanity was in. After the call with Earth, he began seeing blurry through his right eye, and Pete knew something was very wrong.

Vegas had gone to inspect the cargo mentioned by the official, while Pete stepped into the diagnostic device to have his entire anatomy scanned and find out what the real problem was.
Pete stayed completely still as the machine did its job.
'Let it be nothing serious,' he prayed. If he wanted to remain strong and healthy in this trial they were facing, the last thing he needed was a disease or anything that could weaken him.

Everything fell silent when the machine stopped, and Pete stepped out slowly, feeling like his head was about to explode.

When he looked at the images projected by the machine, Pete felt his spine go stiff, just as Vegas walked into the medical room containing all the health systems for space travelers.

Vegas had been searching for Pete for quite some time. His eyes inevitably turned to the large, high-resolution screen that was showing Pete’s internal body scans, specifically, what was lodged in his brain.

Pete froze as Vegas pinned him with that intense stare of his. Pete followed his friend’s steps as he approached the display and studied it.

Since both had the same academic and anatomical training, it didn’t take long for Vegas to reach the same conclusion as Pete.

Cancer.

Pete had something called cancer in his brain — a mass of malignant tissue and cells growing from the organ itself and consuming what was left of the healthy tissue.

Pete looked down, reaching the same conclusion as Vegas. It wasn’t a treatable disease  not in their situation, and definitely not in that location.

—I’m sorry,— was the only thing Pete could think to say. He had no way of knowing whether his delay in getting tested, despite having symptoms for months, could have changed the outcome. But honestly, he couldn’t see how it would’ve made any difference. A disease like that in the brain was difficult to treat even with resources on Earth.

—Since when?— Vegas asked in a hoarse voice, without taking his eyes off the scan of Pete’s body.

"Since when what?" was what Pete wanted to reply. He forced his aching brain to figure out what his friend was asking.

—I…—

—When did the symptoms start?—

Ah, Vegas.
The eternal worrier.

Without looking at him, Pete nervously rubbed his hands together, knowing there was no point in hiding it any longer.

—Around a month after we left Earth,— Pete admitted, mentally bracing for the scolding he knew was coming.

—Why didn’t you tell me?—

More than angry, Pete noticed the tone in Vegas’s voice, even though he wasn’t looking at him directly, was one of disappointment. And that made Pete feel worse, because deep down, Vegas had every reason to be disappointed. They had been friends since childhood. They told each other everything. But something had changed since that last night they spent together on Earth. Something shifted inside Pete that stopped him from sharing everything with Vegas like he used to.

—I…— he still couldn’t form a coherent sentence, or anything strong enough to justify his silence without hurting his beloved... friend. —I didn’t want to…—

—Do you not trust me?—

Now Vegas’s voice was so cold it terrified Pete. The sheer possibility of losing him overwhelmed him, as did the deadly, inescapable future that awaited him.

—Forgive me,— Pete whispered, staring down at the floor of the ship, fully aware that those words wouldn’t fix anything.

"Am I really going to die without telling the one person I care about how I truly feel?”

Vegas was about to leave. He couldn’t handle pressuring Pete like that, not after what he’d just seen. It was now clear what fate awaited the person he cared about most in this life.

—I didn’t want you to suffer— Pete said aloud. —I know you care about me. And I didn’t want… I don’t want you to suffer.—

Vegas tensed at the tone in Pete’s voice. It wasn’t brotherly at all — but it was just as binding.

It hurt.

—You’re the most important person to me. You’re happy with this mission. I didn’t want to ruin that. Because when you’re happy, I’m happy. I didn’t want you to be sad, especially not because of me.—

—And why would you think I’d feel any differently? You’re the most important person to me too.—

Yes… that was Vegas.

—You’re not going to like the answer.—

—Try me,— Vegas murmured, still not leaving, but not turning around either. His gaze stayed locked on the medical screen.

Pete walked over to the pilot’s seat because he honestly didn’t think his legs could hold him up much longer. He figured there was no point in hiding it anymore.

—I couldn’t tell you… because I love you. And that love makes me not want you to suffer because of me.—

He couldn’t look at him. He confessed his love without being entirely sure if Vegas would understand what kind of love he meant.

Pete wanted to cry  and to look at Vegas  but whatever little courage he had left was being drained by his headache.

—You love me… like a brother?— Vegas asked, his voice even hoarser than before.

Pete let out a soft exhale. Yes, as a kid he had called Vegas Hia, but the way he loved him had never been brotherly. Still, he wasn’t quite ready to admit that it was Vegas who had helped him discover his own masculinity.

Hell no.

—No. I don’t love you like a brother,— Pete managed to say, a little sad that that was the first thing Vegas assumed when he said he loved him. —I love you like a man. I find you attractive. I want to kiss you every time I see you. No, I’ve never loved you like a brother.—

Pete hadn’t realized when Vegas had stopped keeping his distance and moved closer. Opening his heart was draining him of strength, but he didn’t regret it — he was slowly beginning to accept his grim fate, and perhaps that’s why the regrets were surfacing. Regrets about not opening his heart sooner, even at the risk of being rejected.

It’s true what they say: you never know what you have until you lose it.

Vegas’s cold fingers grabbed Pete’s jaw firmly, a movement that clearly meant: Look at me.

Why? Why did opening your heart have to hurt so much? It hurt almost as much as trying to focus on Vegas’s face with a brain full of cancer. But finally, Pete summoned a bit of courage — just enough to look at Vegas one last time before he lost him. Before Vegas told him he hated him, or that he was insane and disgusting for feeling that way.

He gathered the last of his strength and finally met Vegas’s obsidian eyes with his own.

—This is new,— Vegas murmured, almost obsessively studying Pete’s face, which froze under such intense scrutiny. He was used to Vegas looking at him with teasing camaraderie, joy, even concern but never like this. —You’re not usually shy. You’re a complete shameless bastard most of the time.—

Wow.
Did Vegas really think he could even begin to be himself after what Pete had just confessed?

“You can’t expect me to be…”

“But on the other hand, this version of you is irresistibly attractive.”

Vegas’s fingers, though cold, burned against Pete’s skin. They still gripped his jaw, preventing him from turning his eyes—or any other part of himself—away from the intense moment that was unfolding.

“A…attractive?” Pete asked, confused, his words a bit strained by the firm hold Vegas kept on his face.

“That’s right. Probably just as attractive as you say I am.”

No.

That couldn’t be happening.

For someone who was supposed to be his friend, Vegas was taking what Pete felt to be a joke way too far. He wanted to protest, but trapped in those black eyes, it was far too pleasurable. A guilty kind of pleasure.

—Vegas, I… this isn’t funny,— Pete managed to say, and Vegas smiled—but it wasn’t a mocking smile.

It meant something else.
Something deeper.

—It isn’t funny. You're right. Even though we’re surrounded by nothing but darkness and vastness, and our planet is basically doomed… all I want right now is to tell you that I…— Vegas loosened his grip on Pete’s jaw slightly, but not enough to let him escape as Pete clearly wanted to. —…I can’t see you as a brother either.—

That meant a lot.
And yet… it meant nothing.
It could be interpreted in a thousand different ways.
Why was Vegas still playing with him? He wasn’t being compassionate at all.

—Stop,— Pete whispered, unable to take it anymore.

—Do you want me to stop, or are you finally going to look at me?—

—No. I don’t want you mocking me.—

Vegas exhaled sharply, wondering whether Pete really knew him at all—or if he’d just been pretending all this time.

—Do I need to spell it out for you?— Vegas said, exasperated.

—What the hell are you talking about?—

—I love you, Pete. I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to realize it.—

Surely it wasn’t normal for someone’s eyes to shine like that.
Not even this close to the stars.

No.

Pete shouldn’t be thinking about how, despite everything, their situation, the terminal illness threatening his life his happiness at hearing those words made him want to cry.

—Don’t tell me I’ve already started hallucinating,— Pete muttered to himself. It was a cruel joke to make, especially given the seriousness of his condition. But in the vast silence of space, where they were the only two living beings, nothing else mattered. Only them. Vegas and Pete.

Vegas didn’t laugh.
He didn’t say it was a dream.
He just looked at Pete, waiting for his logic to catch up to the only truth that mattered now: that Vegas, the unreachable friend, returned his feelings.

Pete tried to pull away when sudden fear surged through him. Vegas recognized the movement—it was Pete’s classic escape strategy when things became too overwhelming. But this time, Vegas wouldn’t allow it.
Not when both their fates were practically sealed.

He knew Pete well. And no matter how ill he was, he also knew that they both had a hero complex. They wouldn’t let the planet they were born on be destroyed.

Vegas wrapped Pete in his arms, and Pete struggled to break free—but his illness seemed to weaken him. He couldn’t escape.

—Enough…— Vegas whispered into Pete’s ear, and Pete kept trying, weakly, to free himself.

But suddenly… he went still.

—It’s unfair,— was the faint response, and Vegas didn’t need to ask what he meant—it was unfair that both of them had only just discovered their feelings now.

—I… couldn’t tell you either. But I don’t regret doing it now, in front of you. Maybe we lost precious time, but the only thing that matters is us.—

Pete understood the quiet acceptance of their fate in Vegas’s voice. It wasn’t in either of their natures to run from problems—and this delicate situation was no exception. Vegas pulled away just a little to cup Pete’s face in his hands. Pete’s eyes were clouded, and the way his eyebrows knit together spoke of the pain he felt—both physical and emotional. It was hard for either of them to accept… death.

Vegas made the first move because it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. His thumbs wiped away the tears that had spilled from Pete’s eyes just moments before, and at the gentle touch, Pete had no choice but to finally look at him.

—We live together, we die together,— he murmured against Pete’s parted, pale lips.

—I don’t want to die,— Pete admitted, innocently, like a child being denied a sweet. Vegas couldn’t help but smile and leaned in until their foreheads touched.

—We’re not going to die,— he said it with such conviction that Pete looked at him, surprised. —We won’t really die, because we’re meant to be together. It’s our destiny.—

Pete had never believed in destiny.
But he believed in Vegas.
He had nothing else to believe in.

—Our bodies may leave this plane. But our minds…— Yes, Vegas was an astronaut who believed in mind and soul.—…will live on through time.—

With a quiet “We’ll meet again,” Vegas finally kissed Pete. No alcohol, no confusion, no excuses. Just two people, two humans, discovering their feelings. Two lifelong friends who, in the end, finally came to know each other in the one way they never had.

To die..."

Jakapan’s voice fell silent.

Once again, time had passed, and the afternoon was giving way to dusk.

The blush on his cheeks told me that the strange man from the story had left parts untold—left them open to interpretation. And as an adult, I could understand the pieces he left out. Pete and Vegas had surely shared their bodies—being the only two human beings in the space they inhabited. Knowing the nature of those two friends, it had likely been something between passionate and tender.

The bitterness of knowing they were going to die never got easier, even if this was the third story.

Jakapan’s eyes were lost on the horizon, painted now in a reddish glow. This phenomenon was often mentioned at the palace, though I’d had few chances to see it myself. The color of the clouds—frightening and beautiful all at once.

Deer sun.

The clouds glowed in a mixture of red and orange that took your breath away.

But the most beautiful thing in front of me… was Jakapan.

—Can I kiss you?— slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Still, I realized I didn’t regret asking. Because it was what I truly wanted.

It was as if this place… this atmosphere… made it impossible to keep my feelings buried—no matter how hard I tried to suppress them out of sheer instinct for self-preservation.
My connection with him was becoming impossible to ignore.

Finally, he looked at me, a gentle smile on his soft lips.

—Can I ask you something in return?—

I knew what he wanted to ask. Or at least, I had an idea.
It was a question I would probably never be ready for.

—Do you like me?—

Knowing how shy he could be, that question must have cost him so much to ask.

But I didn’t retreat.

What could I say? Yes? That every day I feared time would slip away before I could tell him how I really felt? That maybe I loved him for his mind, for the way he acted, for how he told stories as if he were living them?

His very being drew not just my attention, but also something else—my honesty. An honesty I doubted I still possessed.

Maybe contemplating death so often in the stories made me doubt our own longevity?

I couldn’t say I loved him.

But something inside me whispered I wasn’t far from it.

I held back because I feared giving too much weight to those feelings—only for Jakapan to leave me.

To die.

I didn’t want to even think about that.

But those eyes demanded, gently, not rudely, a truthful answer.

—Yes. I like you.—

I saw something strange flash in his eyes. And I knew he wanted to ask the same thing anyone else would in that situation:
Since when?

Even I didn’t know. Maybe since always.

Since that first time he tried to hide to avoid being chosen as royal consort.

—But I don’t want to like you. I don’t want to like you because I can’t bear the thought of losing you.—

That was what I really meant. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud.
I didn’t want to give that kind of power away, even knowing Jakapan would never use it to hurt me.

Something like pain flickered across Jakapan’s eyes. And I realized how easily my words could be misunderstood.
I had to fix it. I prepared myself to say the first stupid thing that came to mind.

—I like you a lot, but I just… I don’t want to like you because I don’t want to— And just as I was about to say the most important part, of course, he beat me to it.

—You don’t want me to die?—

The almost-statement left Jakapan’s lips.

I could do nothing but stare at him.

Could he read my mind?

—How do you know that?—

—My soul tells me so. Amidst everything that has happened, I can only believe that’s why you haven’t done to me what you're so famously known for across these lands.—

—How could I?— I confessed. —Every time I look at you, I regret letting my hatred outweigh my common sense. I don’t want you to suffer, and yet I keep hurting you.—

Should I tell him what I knew the real reason behind my sudden concern?
Was it even reasonable for Jakapan to know the condition that affected him so personally?

—What are you afraid of?— he asked, once he noticed my hesitation.
No one ever asked someone like me what I feared but he did.

—You were poisoned by the Varijenat family. It’s a poison that can’t be undone by common methods. The antidote must be found during a very specific time of the year, and we can’t guarantee your survival until then.—

I suppose I expected some kind of reaction from him—panic, horror, hatred, maybe despair.

But none of that happened.

Jakapan simply smiled and took a deep breath, as if my telling him had lifted a great weight off his shoulders.

—I… thank you for telling me,— he finally said, approaching slowly.

Not knowing the reason behind his actions, I waited for him to close the distance.

Then he hugged me, perhaps to express his gratitude.

All I could think about was that he was thanking me for telling him he might die.

—How can you be so calm?—

—I’m not,— Jakapan whispered.

—But I feel that… at least a little, you trust me now.—

It wasn’t just about trust. Or maybe it was. I didn’t know anymore.

In just a few weeks, my life—and everything I had planned for it—was coming undone.

—Yes, I trust you. Just don’t betray me,— I admitted, asking something I’d never asked before.

—Not even if it means I can protect you?—

We looked into each other’s eyes, and I hoped he could see how deeply that question unsettled me.

—No. I don’t need you to protect me. I just don’t want you to ever lie to me.—

It seemed Jakapan’s eyes still held many secrets, but in that moment, secrets didn’t feel like lies.

—I… won’t die,— Jakapan said simply.

—Do you promise?—

We both knew that making a promise didn’t mean it would be fulfilled.

Without asking—but without needing my permission either—he hugged me tighter.

I didn’t have the courage to push him away.

Nor did I want to. Because it was exactly what I needed.

Knowing that, in my arms at least, I could protect him—from the outside threats, from my twisted family, from the cruel fate they had placed on him—made me feel a little more at peace.

It was a kind of embrace I hadn’t known I needed, but I welcomed it fully.

The warmth of Jakapan’s body was enough to thaw a soul I hadn’t even realized had grown cold.

—At the very least… I won’t die before telling you everything,— Jakapan whispered against my ear.

His words hit me deep inside. I was about to object, to say he wasn’t just here for his stories, but then he continued:

—Because it’s important to you… and to me as well.—

Still holding me, his voice softened like a snake charmer’s, slowly wrapping me around his little finger.

—The stranger said something that stayed with me beyond just his stories. ‘Stories must be told until the end,’ he said. Somehow, in that moment, I felt like he wasn’t just referring to the stories he told me, but to all stories. Maybe even the story he himself had lived.—

What he said unsettled me again—this growing familiarity between the stranger and myself.

Even thinking it felt absurd… but not entirely impossible.

When I could no longer keep holding him without other parts of me getting involved,

I forced myself to pull away and told him we had to go back.

And yet the truth was:

I didn’t want to leave.

I wouldn’t mind staying here forever—if it meant being by Jakapan’s side.

We returned to the palace, and I separated from him again, overtaken by a fear I couldn’t name.

The emotions I had exposed in the ruins terrified me. They were too intense.

It felt like some kind of obsession had taken hold of me, clouding my mind.

I told Jakapan I had matters to attend to.

But truthfully, I just needed space—to accept what I was feeling… and the fear of losing him.

In short, I needed distance.

—Don’t go,— I heard him say behind me just as I was about to leave.

But perhaps we were both tired of me running away.

—I can’t…— I said.

Then I felt him reach out and grab my hand tightly, a move that would’ve cost someone else days in the dungeons.

—Stay with me,— he begged.

And I couldn’t resist his plea, which tested every conviction I once held.

I didn’t understand why he wanted me to stay. But unlike the old version of myself, I turned around and took his face in my hands and kissed him, with the same strength he had used to hold my hand.

—Why are you doing this to me?— I whispered against his lips.

—Why don’t you want to stay with me?—

His reply to my question stunned me.

I watched as his pink tongue lightly wet his equally pink lips, which looked just as sweet as the question sounded.

—You said you liked me. Don’t you want to stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared.—

It was a tempting invitation. And everything inside me screamed to obey him and stay.

“He’s in danger,” said that inner voice that always appeared when Jakapan was near, a voice that sounded like my own and seemed bent on protecting him, just like I was.

In the end, I gave in.

Jakapan smiled faintly, as if I’d done exactly what he wanted.

Some of his happiness came from me, and oddly enough, that made me proud.

The internal voice urging me to protect him grew quiet.

Suddenly, it felt like fate itself wanted me to stay with him tonight.

And somehow, I couldn’t fight that desire, because deep down,

I wanted to stay with him too.

Chapter Text

20

King Jakapan

Once again, my desire not to be alone took its toll on me, particularly after that encounter in the old part of the palace. It was something within my soul that almost wanted to merge with the king and go with him everywhere. When I managed to convince him to stay with me, excitement took over, vividly reminding me of the way he looked at me when he answered my question about whether he liked me. In truth, I felt I wanted to be by his side because I longed to confess that I liked him too.

But I wasn't that brave, or at least, I didn’t feel brave enough in that moment. We looked at each other for several seconds, and finally, he said he would go change first. I opened my mouth to say I would go with him, but he gently clarified that he would change behind the ornate screen in the royal room, which I believed was an attempt to preserve my modesty—without knowing that that night, and with what I knew, I wouldn’t have cared at all about seeing him without clothes and seeing again that body, the image of which had become my comfort in the midst of the nightmares I had been having more frequently.

I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t listening, or at least not paying attention, to the sound of silk being removed from his body, nor did I want to believe that my body temperature was rising from the shame of awareness and from emotions I knew were far from innocent.

He said he liked me, and despite what I had known about him from the beginning, the truth was that I felt the same way. My initial fear had turned into what was happening now. Surely my whole face was red—or at least my ears—since I was never good at hiding my emotions and wasn’t exactly skilled in the art of lying. I supposed this was what someone new to this whole complex and unfamiliar universe of emotions felt like.

When the king stepped out from behind the screen, I couldn’t do anything but admire him. I always did, really—but knowing how he felt about me, I was surprised by how much he could affect me. And how much I liked him.

—It’s your turn,— he said, looking at me meaningfully—or at least that’s what it seemed like to me.

Oh no! I’d have to do the same? Was he wondering the same kind of stupid things I had just been thinking?

“Please don’t notice my red ears, please don’t.”

I didn’t know what was going through the king’s mind, but he had a lopsided smile on his face that made him look even more attractive than I already thought he was.

Oh no! He did notice.

I didn’t really feel offended, but I was deeply embarrassed. I grabbed the sleepwear, noticing how, curiously, the colors matched those of the king’s clothes.

I decided not to look at him anymore. If I kept doing that, I doubted I’d be able to change. I stepped behind the screen, and before undressing, I found myself thinking even more.

What was all of this really about?

I wished I knew more about these things, so I could at least interpret them the right way. I vividly remembered that the king and I had already seen each other naked—since that time in the Thai bath. There was nothing new on my body that the king hadn’t already seen.

Heat.

It was all I could think about. Not the heat of the weather—which, where we lived, was fairly common. I hadn’t known desire until that moment, and it was the only thing I could associate with everything I was feeling. And I also knew that the only one who could help me was him. The king—my husband, and the man I was more than in love with.

How did this happen?

Even though I had already picked up on the truth, accepting it was still hard—but it was the best thing I could do. I was afraid because of what he had confessed; my greatest fear was dying without experiencing any of what love was supposed to be.

Finally, I stepped out from behind the screen and sat beside the king on our canopy bed.

Without warning—and probably because the heat on my face was beginning to move through the rest of my body—I grabbed the king by the shoulders and pushed him back with a bit of force, then immediately climbed on top of him. The king’s gaze was intense, dark, and intimidating, but even so, he didn’t stop me—and I didn’t let those obsidian eyes take my courage away. I was excited, but the truth was, I didn’t really know what I was doing. Just that there was more—more than everything I thought I could read in his face. In the king’s eyes, there was curiosity. He probably wanted to know how far I would go with this whole charade. Just like I wanted to know myself.

Still holding his shoulders, I leaned down and kissed him the way he had taught me, a way that somehow had become engraved in my mind, as if I had spent my whole life kissing the king. His lips tasted like almonds and honey or maybe that was just how I chose to describe them. And they were as soft now as mine had become.
The moment one of my hands left his shoulders, I lost a bit of my balance, and half my body fell onto his. My hand left his shoulder to gently close around his neck. My thumb slowly stroked there, feeling the hardness beneath it, as well as the rapid, erratic pulse on the side of his neck. It was a very rapid pulse, as if the king had been running.

Is that what he meant when he said he liked me? Was it my power to make his heart beat like that? I felt proud and somewhat daring, and I was also a little unfamiliar with myself because I was suddenly very curious about all this stuff I was suddenly beginning to explore. In the same way, I kept trying to reproduce the kind of kisses the king liked, where tongue and wetness were involved.

I moaned as a tingling sensation surged through my body when that kind of kiss began. The king, although lying down with half my body on top of his, responded to my kiss passionately, causing my own body to respond accordingly.

Even without really knowing what I was doing and feeling hotter by the second, I continued to indulge him with my tongue and lips without restraint while the lower part of my body took on a life of its own and climbed over the rest of the king's body. I foolishly thought it best not to have any silk pants on.

"You can always take them off," was my bold thought that answered.

The king didn't move my body from his; rather, he seemed to offer himself as a willing sacrifice for my delight, and I was beginning to realize how much I liked him too.

Through the silk that separated our bodies, I felt like I was sitting on something very hard, and I also sensed my own body becoming sensitive to the clothing. Even taking a breath wasn't a problem because in the warm contact, breathing became a completely secondary function. All I could think about was something pleasurable, and how my body tingled with something I didn't even know what it was.
Could the king be sensing this desperate need I felt for our bodies to be naked and our skin to rub against each other?

—Oh...— I moaned, separating my lips from his as the friction of his silky pants against my lower body became too much. My head fell back on the king's shoulder, my breathing was labored, and my strength was waning, perhaps due to the poison in me.

I felt frustrated. I wanted to experience so many things, and my own body was betraying me. I wanted to rub against the king as if the spirit of a cat had suddenly taken over. Should I ask him to help me?

—I... want...— I moaned, unsure of what to ask for and unable to speak the budding need in my body.

Suddenly, my body was removed from on top of the king, and I found myself in the same position he had been a few seconds ago: lying on the bed, waiting for whatever he wanted to give me.

—Don't stop me,— I heard the king whisper in a husky voice, and although I didn't know what he meant, I swore to myself that no matter what happened, I wouldn't stop him. The king's hands began to do what my weak and hesitant ones couldn't do at the time. The silk of my pajamas was as easy to handle as I was, so when the king's deft fingers removed it from my warm chest, the relief was instantaneous, though momentary. Another groan of hypersensitivity escaped my hoarse throat as the king removed his own silk robes, allowing me to look at him much more closely than usual.

The Jakapan inside me wanted to do much more than just observe him, less innocent things like running my tongue over his skin and knowing what that surface tasted like. Would that be bad? Was that curiosity something I would later regret?

The king laid on top of me, and our bare chests touched. His skin was a little cooler than mine, which I felt like it was going to combust at any moment.

—Ahhh...— I moaned as his sinuous movements brushed against our skin. I closed my eyes at the real sound as what was between my legs hardened, rubbing against the silk pajamas and the king's hips. —Kiss me...— I begged, gasping for air but wanting at the same time for him to take all my breath away with those kisses he loved to give, sucking on my lips and tongue.

—Where?— the king murmured in his dark voice, staring at my bare chest with what I thought was avidity. How could I ask that? If his lips were bigger, I'd tell him everywhere, but if hI could only ask for one place, I pointed to my mouth as I shuddered, and my crotch brushed against his thigh again. Would he misinterpret my dark intentions? I wanted him in my mouth, but in other parts of my body as well. Smirking, he leaned over me again until only my labored breathing separated us. —Why should I?—he asked, and I thought he was making fun of me.

—I'm feeling...heated,— in my feverish state, it was impractical to hide things from him, —and I think only you can help me,— I confessed, dying of embarrassment.

—I actually never imagined something like this would happen tonight,— the king said slowly. —So, you want me to kiss you?—

I nodded quickly, even putting my mouth in a pout to believe I was tempting. The king stuck out the tip of his tongue and ran it across my lips, making every hair on my body stand up.

—If I do this, what will you give me?—

I had nothing but myself, so I could only point at myself.

—Mhm, fair enough. I've wanted you for a long time,— the king said, making me even more nervous.

—It's just that I never...— It was best to say it, because I didn't know the ins and outs of what we would do, much less what the dynamics between two men were like. And although the thought made me jealous, he must have had experience.

—You're intriguing. Knowing that you want me and that you're so sincere about it... makes me hungry—

—Can you kiss me?— I said again, desperate.
—Could you just name a part of your body other than your mouth?— One of his white fingers now touched my wet lips and pressed them with some force, as if he wanted to kiss me but also to leave me without dignity.

—Don't do this to me,— I said, submissively in the feverish desperation of my body. It was truly a torture, not knowing how to express what I wanted.

Without warning, I felt the king's tongue lick my ear. I guessed I hadn't thought I was that sensitive, or maybe I was only sensitive for him. The touch made my body shudder, but I didn't knock him down. Instead, I waited as that wet contact began to move down to my neck.

This wasn't kissing, but it felt both good and wrong. I hoped only to be clean and tempting enough for that feeling to be pleasurable for him, and in my mind, I apologized if it wasn't.

—No...— But I really didn't want to stop him, not even when his tongue reached my chest and began licking one of its tips, as if he were very hungry. I didn't know about my sensitivity there either, and I began to feel dizzy from the pleasure and hypersensitivity. I felt my lower body harden. It shouldn't have been normal, but a need I'd never experienced when touched was heating up inside me. The touch through the pajamas seemed to not be enough, and I just wanted something. Something like release, and maybe a need to do the same to the king and hear him disarm himself, like he was doing to me now.

The warm lips that had been kissing me before now began to suckle my overstimulated breast, making me cry out loud enough to cover my mouth at the uncouth sound, while I felt him ease himself deeper, forcefully between my limbs where I felt he belonged to. How would it feel if he kissed me theres?

I felt him bite the tip of my nipple, and I cried out again because even though it hurt a lot, it felt good at the same time. Would it be wrong to want more of this?

I moaned in agony as he bit me again, and his other hand pinched the tip of my other breast with the same force, sending the sensation down my back and into my crotch. Aware of all this, I also noticed the wetness oozing from the tip of my sex, soaking the front of my silk pajama pants.

—Sir...— I managed to say as I lowered my gaze, raising my head slightly and looking at his, pressed against my breast, sucking hard. This sinful scene gave me so much pleasure that I raised my own hands to tangle them in his hair and push his head even closer to me, as if it were physically possible to bring him closer.

—That's what I'll do...— the king murmured sing-songly against my heated skin, and I realized I'd asked him to devour me out loud. He switched nipples, and I moaned again when he made the second as sensitive as the first. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my moans because no one else should hear what we were doing because it only concerned us and I was loud but he didn't seem to care because he didn't stop and just as promised I didn't ask him to stop.
His hands moved down to my waist and began to remove my silk trousers, where the evidence of my weakness must surely be quite evident. A mocking smile crept across his lips as I unconsciously shuddered the moment the cool night air touched my heated flesh, the tip of which was still oozing moisture.

His warm hand gripped it with the right firmness and strength, yet with enviable confidence. He caressed it slowly, and then his mouth left my breast and moved down to my navel.

—Give it to me...— he murmured against my skin.

I didn't understand what he wanted. If he was talking about my body, that was what I was doing, but he surely meant something more, especially when his hand closed more tightly around my sex and his thumb slowly and torturously stroked the tip, lubricating it with the moisture there.
—No... I don't know how,— I affirmed. It was true that I knew human anatomy from the books I'd once read, but unfortunately, they didn't detail anything about what was happening to me at that moment. I confessed my weakness, staring into space and breathing rapidly, not really understanding the need brewing in that core. 
—Help...me — I murmured as, in perfect synchrony, his mouth sucked on my nipple and his hand touched my shaft.

—Give it to me...— he murmured again, and I simply allowed him to continue touching me because I hoped it would all lead to what I deeply desired.

And, as I suspected, those actions were indeed leading me somewhere, as the heat of the friction increased and the force of the king's lips on my chest, a strong pressure was concentrating in my belly and groin. I would surely faint or my shaft would explode, but either way, none of it seemed to matter.

—Sir...— I murmured in a strangled voice. He was finally leading me to do what he asked me not to do, which was to ask him to stop because I didn't know what was happening to me and I was afraid. But I kept quiet. I promised him, and I would keep my promise... even if I died trying.
He groaned against my skin as my entire body suddenly tensed, and a maelstrom of painful and pleasurable sensations began. What I'd previously felt building in my belly finally exploded in the king's hand, which rubbed me tirelessly while I moaned and writhed uncontrollably, my body prey to his. It was a sensation I would later realize I could become addicted to.

I didn't even know how long it lasted. Only that the king was there, encouraging me with words I could only classify as hot. Yes, he encouraged me to release all my pleasure into his hand. There was no time for embarrassment, especially when the king looked at me with a crooked smile that I couldn't tell if it was mocking or something more. After looking at me, he looked at his hand, which was quite full of... me. 

That was all my pleasure. The king slowly licked his fingers, making my post-pleasure bliss intensify, as did my recovered shame, although I highly doubted I would have much of that feeling left after what had just happened.

—You are... delicious,— the king said, and I wished I could reach the silk sheets of the bed with my hands and hide under them for all eternity. How was I supposed to respond to that? How could I know what would happen from now on? Slowly, the king stripped me of my clothes and many of my inhibitions. But I still lacked the courage. And so, my first instinct was to respond in kind. I knew he was as hard as I had been minutes before.

As I watched him continue to slowly lick his hand, I wondered if it was dangerous for him to do that because of the poison in my blood, but he didn't seem to care. In fact, he seemed somewhat proud of what he managed to extract from my body.
I gathered all my remaining strength and threw myself at him, causing him to fall onto the bed.

—Does the same thing happen to you?— I asked him in what I hoped sounded like a firm voice even though I was just coming down from the heights he had brought me to.
—Have you never done this with anyone? Not even with yourself?— he murmured as I stared at his bare, immaculate chest where a damp stain of my seed still lingered. There was no point in denying it, so I didn't; I just focused on undoing the knot of the king's silk trousers.

—I didn't need to,— I murmured as the skin on his lower body continued to be exposed by my trembling fingers. —Not until I met the king.—
—You know, that's a beautiful confession.—
—Isn't it the same thing?— I asked, trying to reassure myself that sexual desire was compatible with the feeling of liking him.

—What? Desire? It can be a related feeling.—

Finally, I removed all the silk from his silk pants, revealing his body to my eyes for the second time, a body that I considered much more beautiful than my own.

"He has very white and fair skin" was the thought that crossed my mind, and I must have made a horrified face when I realized I'd said it out loud because the king laughed. I wanted to scold him, but something assured me he wasn't laughing mockingly, but rather found my complete lack of common sense endearing.

He didn't have another chance to laugh because the moment his naked body was revealed to my view, curiosity swept over my common sense once again. He was... how to put it? He was built the same way as me, arms, legs, a flat chest, and a genital organ. But I found him sinfully beautiful and far more attractive than myself.

The king remained still as I began to run the tips of my fingers down his forehead, moving down his temples to his neck, where I noticed, from the movement of his throat, how hard he was swallowing. I stopped because maybe he didn't want this, but when I looked into his eyes I noticed his silent acceptance, as if he were some kind of very willing sacrifice, laid out on the bed for my equally inexperienced curiosity.
I hoped he liked it the same way I liked it, and even if he didn't say it out loud, surely a king like him, if he didn't want this, would be within his rights to refuse.
The muscles in his chest were more defined than mine, likely due to the sports he played as a monarch. The skin beneath my hands was very hot, as if he had the fever that frequently affected me now.

Incredibly, as I touched him, I felt my own body trying to duplicate the myriad of sensations that had consumed me minutes before, but I stopped myself from allowing that need to consume me completely, because now it wasn't my turn. I looked down to also notice how much our bodies resembled each other.

Having never "in-depth" explore my own body, I couldn't tell which was larger, but the king's sexual organ seemed very beautiful to me. I did refrain from saying that out loud.

I finally placed my hand there, and it felt much warmer than the rest of his body. The king let out a hissing breath between his lips. I kept my hand still because I knew now what a touch of any kind felt like on that area of ​​the body.

—Touch me,— the king whispered, his voice still containing that sensual huskyness, as if he had difficulty using it.

—How you did it  to me?— I asked innocently, and he nodded, giving me permission. I didn't consider myself someone with a great memory, but I perfectly remembered every caress he gave my body.
I did the same, looking at his face and hoping to read how skilled I was.

He was so beautiful! His brows were furrowed, and the skin on his cheeks was red. But he didn't take his eyes off me. He wasn't looking at the movements of my hand, but specifically at my eyes. I sincerely hoped I was doing it right. The soft, hard flesh in my hand grew even hotter and harder, as if he, like me, was trying to hold back that passion.

I didn't stop, simply waiting until the king's body shook in a powerful spasm, a deep groan escaped his throat, and his own seed spilled from my hand. I stared at his face, fascinated, his features expressing pleasure in an almost agonizing way, giving me a deep satisfaction at having achieved this.

All of this was perfect, but I knew there must be something more. However, I didn't want to abuse my insatiable curiosity, not at that moment. The king would surely teach me the details when he wanted to.

We must both be a mess. 
I tried to get up to look for the cloth we used to dry our hands after washing them, but the king returned too quickly from his pleasure and stopped me.

—Don't wear that,— the king murmured in my ear as I was bending down, probably clumsily, to put on my silk pajama pants. I almost dropped the cloth in fear and didn't dare look at him when my mouth asked the reason.

—Warmth... let's sleep naked.—

It was funny how just that mention of it would probably make my ears blush, even after what we'd done. But I wasn't one to refute his command, and the truth was, I did want to feel all of his skin against mine.

Only one candle remained lit in the darkness of our room. Somehow, our bodies fit perfectly under the single silk sheet: me in his arms, my head resting on his bare chest, which I was now more than familiar with, and our breathing in sync.

—There's more, isn't there?—

He, who always seemed to read my mind, whispered, understanding perfectly what I meant.

—And one day, will you show me?—

—Of course. I think now that we know each other better, it won't be too long before I fervently desire to show you the many ways pleasure can be extracted from a body—

—And wouldn't you prefer me to tell you stories?— I asked, testing my own ground. He laughed and made our naked bodies touch more intimately under the silk sheet.

—It all comes with you; the order doesn't really matter.—

I was going to say something else, but suddenly I felt very sleepy and fell into his arms.

King Wichapas

"There is more..."

I felt my heart stuck in my throat when Jakapan asked that. I was still deeply overwhelmed by everything that had just happened between us, something I hadn’t expected to unfold so quickly, yet felt as natural as Jakapan’s presence in my life.

He was wonderful, inexperienced, and indescribable. It wasn’t something I hadn’t done before, and yet it felt as if my body were experiencing pleasure for the very first time. As if Jakapan’s skin alone had been chosen by fate to make me feel like I was drowning in the hell of heat and pleasure.

Our compatibility wasn’t normal but it was real. And just like Jakapan, it wasn’t something I planned to let slip away. His uneven breathing brought me back to reality a little. Next month, Ta would travel to Aitama to search for the flower, and until then, I would have to protect Jakapan, until his return.

"You should tell me how to protect him," I said to the duality in my mind. Up until now, I had done a terrible job, and I was afraid of continuing to fail. I wanted to fuse with Jakapan, never take my eyes off him. I had never cared to protect anyone but my brother. But I longed to protect Jakapan’s life. My feelings for him demanded it of me, just as the loyalty of the duality within me did too.
Jakapan’s body trembled slightly in my arms, bringing back to my mind the pleasant situation we found ourselves in. Sleep eventually overcame me too, even though I wished I could have stayed awake the rest of the night, just watching Jakapan sleep.

"Vegas woke up to the sound of an alarm. He didn’t need the device monitoring both of their vital signs on the ship to tell him Pete was having a seizure. His friend was moving his arms and legs abnormally, so Vegas quickly released the embrace he had him in and laid him on his side to prevent him from aspirating.

He jumped out of bed and rushed to get the medication that would stop Pete’s convulsions. Without wasting a second, he injected the drug into a venous access port inserted into Pete’s subclavian vein—a catheter he now wore permanently.

It had been two weeks since they had confessed their feelings to each other, and in the silence of outer space, they had decided to give in to those newly discovered emotions. Neither of them had expected that the vacuum of space and the pressure keeping them alive aboard the ship would make Pete’s brain cancer exponentially more aggressive. Pete was dying, and all Vegas could do was witness it—and care for him.

When the seizure passed, Vegas covered him up again, and once he was sure Pete was sleeping soundly, he walked to the command center of the ship, where the large window gave way to a chilling view.

Two days ago, they had encountered the Exterminator, and now they orbited behind the massive interstellar rock, waiting for the perfect moment to intercept it.

Everything was ready, but not for Vegas and Pete to go to another planet and repopulate. No. They were ready to buy Earth a little more time.

Through an untraceable communication channel, the planet’s Secretary of Defense had been informed of the situation and the decision made by the two astronauts. He had also revealed that, aside from the entire stockpile of human genetic material the ship was carrying, it also housed a nuclear payload—one powerful enough to destroy several entire planets.

The astronauts wouldn’t go as far as to destroy a planet. What they intended to destroy was an asteroid.

The ship’s special and artificial intelligence had been charting a route that would allow them to infiltrate the Exterminator and detonate the nuclear payload from inside, disintegrating it—along with themselves.

What a plan.
It was only a matter of time before the ship would indicate the route. Vegas looked over at Pete’s sedated figure. Time… they no longer had.

—Hurry,— he urged the Secretary of Defense. Pete wasn’t just dying—the Exterminator was getting dangerously close to the solar system's orbit, which would make the detonation even riskier.

Hours.

That was all it would take.

—Almost there,— Vegas whispered to himself—and to Pete. Soon, the suffering would end.

"In this life, I will help you."

A signal from the ship's computer finally flashed on the screen, displaying the exact coordinates and the precise point on the crater where they needed to insert the ship. The trajectory was one only highly skilled astronauts could fly—Vegas trusted himself to do it, even without Pete.

He walked over to where Pete lay and gently caressed his head, lowering himself until he was at eye level. He called his name softly—after a seizure, Pete’s ears were extremely sensitive. 

In other circumstances, he would have let him rest, but Pete had made him promise that no matter what happened, they would take the final flight together.

Pete’s groggy eyes met his a few seconds later.

—It’s time,— Vegas murmured. Pete looked around, trying to get his bearings until his neurons slowly began to respond again.

—Is it?— he asked, his tongue sluggish. Vegas nodded, understanding him perfectly. He brushed a few damp strands of hair from Pete’s forehead, helped him sit up, and slowly walked him to his usual spot: the co-pilot's chair.

Pete stared into the void that the Exterminator allowed them to see, then at Vegas, who was busy handling controls, buttons, and the ship’s electronic systems—completely ignoring the flurry of incoming calls on the only communication channel from Earth, desperately trying to dissuade them from the mission.

But saving the fate of those left behind on Earth was far more honorable than simply fleeing to another planet with the mission of preserving the human race.

It wasn’t time yet for the planet to die.

Vegas leaned over Pete’s seat and strapped him in with two safety belts, all the while feeling Pete’s chocolate-brown eyes fixed on him.

—I’m glad we’re doing this while I can still see you, smell you, talk to you, while the cancer hasn’t yet taken away everything from me.—

—And I’m glad you’re by my side.— Vegas tried to stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes.

-So… is now the time to be grateful for everything?— Pete asked with a touch of sarcasm. —Do you still believe we’ll find each other in another life?—
Vegas secured the final strap around Pete’s waist and finally looked him in the eyes.

—Yes, I believe it. This is only an interlude.—

—You’re far too innocent,— Pete murmured, raising his frail hand and brushing his fingers across the tears on Vegas’s cheeks.

—Then believe in my innocence,— Vegas whispered, —and picture us in another timeline—in a future together, where no one has the power to tear us apart.—

—When the moment comes, I will,— Pete promised, fully prepared to keep that vow, perhaps in the very last second before his body disintegrated. He would make sure to wish, with all his being, to see Vegas again in another life.

Vegas gave him one final kiss on the lips, then walked over to his own seat and strapped himself in quickly.

Initiating asteroid entry sequence.

Vegas began operating the controls—the same ones he had ensured long ago could no longer be accessed from Earth. As they drew closer to the Exterminator, the ship began to shake violently. Pete gripped his seat weakly, the jolt sending a sharp pain through his head.

A massive fissure beside a crater was their entrance. Darkness swallowed them whole, and Vegas navigated by the infrared mapping now glowing on the screen. The tremors intensified as they approached the asteroid’s core.

Vegas ran his fingers across one of the panels, and seconds later, a countdown began across the entire system. The countdown was death—drawing nearer for both astronauts.

The violent shaking caused Pete to lose consciousness briefly. Vegas let go of the steering controls with one hand and reached for Pete’s—limp and cold—grieving deeply that he hadn’t been able to protect him better.

"In another life… I’ll learn to protect you."

Flashes of light began to appear in front of and around the ship. Vegas’s knowledge of quantum physics told him that the nuclear charge had begun to fuse.

—Pete...— he whispered, longing to see those dark eyes one last time.
Pete, miraculously, answered his call—using the last of his strength to look at his Vegas.

"I love you," they thought at the same time.

The nuclear charge detonated, disintegrating 95 percent of the asteroid..."

I woke up with a crushing weight on my chest and ragged breath.

The person lying on top of me pulled away slightly to look at me.

—Are you okay?— asked Jakapan’s voice, and suddenly I realized—I wasn’t dreaming. Not really. Jakapan had been telling me the story, and I... I had been living it. As if I were up there in space, waiting for death.

—Pete… and Vegas...— I said slowly, touching my face. Among the sweat on my forehead, a few stray tears had made their way down.

Jakapan sat up slowly and nodded.

They died.

I cursed silently at the expected ending—but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. It was too tragic to even be called a story. And all of it... because of a curse.

Suddenly, I felt like a little child refusing to accept the end of a fairy tale—like the story of Mak and the turtle Mae Nam (see end of the chapter).

I even wondered if I’d be able to bear the rest of the stories, with the protagonists dying one after the other—each death a too-precise reminder of how close I was to losing the protagonist of my own story.
But even if fear was my greatest obstacle, now it was Jakapan who refused to stop telling them—as if reaching the end of it all had become one of his personal missions.

He had already told me: there were six stories.

And they died in all of them.

Once upon a time, talking about death so casually would’ve felt normal.

I tried again to hide my tears, but being so close to Jakapan, he noticed.

Still, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t laugh.

He simply raised his hand and wiped away the ones I hadn’t managed to stop after waking—as if crying over the fate of imaginary characters was something perfectly normal.

But even if they were imaginary characters, I felt a personal connection to them—an affinity so deep, it could’ve had me burned at the stake for heresy.

—Tell me the ending,— I asked, almost against my will as if skipping what came next might somehow protect me from it.

—You’re like a child,— was his only response.

—I also wanted to know the end. But later I understood—it’s not possible to skip them.—

—Why not?—

—That’s what the stranger said,— Jakapan replied, now seeming more like the child he accused me of being.

—And you just obeyed?— I asked, a bit sarcastic.
Jakapan nodded gently, and that seemed to seal his refusal.

The bell announcing the start of the palace’s daily activities began to ring, letting us know we had to get up...

STORY OF MAK AND THE TURTLE MAE NAM

In a lush forest in Thailand, where sunlight filtered through the enormous banana leaves, lived a small macaque named Mak. Mak was known throughout the animal kingdom for his boundless curiosity and his love for stories. Every evening, as the sky turned shades of orange and violet, he would sit at the riverbank, listening to the old legends told by the wisest turtle in the land—Mae Nam.

One night, Mae Nam told him about the Temple of the Eternal Moon, a mystical place that, according to legend, held an ancient treasure. Mae Nam warned him that the path was extremely dangerous, and that once inside, there would be no way back. But instead of scaring Mak, the warning only fueled his burning curiosity.

At dawn, without saying goodbye to anyone, Mak ventured deep into the heart of the forest. The journey was grueling. He dodged brightly colored snakes, climbed trees that reached into the clouds, and crossed rushing rivers of crystal-clear water. At last, he arrived at the temple’s entrance—a majestic place carved into the side of a mountain, with vines hanging like velvet curtains.

Ignoring the echo of Mae Nam’s warning, Mak stepped through the threshold. Inside, darkness reigned, broken only by faint glimmers along the walls. Mak pressed on, awestruck by the ancient carvings that adorned the stone. But the deeper he went, the heavier the silence became—a silence so thick it seemed to swallow the sound of his own footsteps.

Suddenly, a blinding light filled the chamber. It did not come from treasure, but from a central hall where the ceiling had collapsed, leaving a massive opening that revealed the sky above. The ancient treasure was not gold or jewels—but the view of the full moon and the stars through a natural skylight.

Mak stood frozen—not by the beauty of the spectacle, but by the gaping hole at his feet. The ground was broken in many places, and without realizing it, the macaque had taken a wrong step. His small body vanished into the darkness.
His curiosity, which had always driven him forward, had ultimately led him to a tragic end in the depths of the earth.

The next morning, the sun rose, and the animals in the forest wondered where Mak had gone—but the little macaque never returned. And though his name faded from the memory of most, the old turtle Mae Nam would always whisper the same words each night:

"Curiosity is a flame that, if left unchecked, can consume life itself."