***

Time passed indifferently, as did the white liquid of Zetak’s tears and frustration. It had been eleven months since he’d started taking the medicine. In a few days it would be a full year, and he mourned in silence. Occasionally, in moments of seething frustration, he would pretend to stumble and spill tea on Jaibid’s face. But even such acts did little to assuage his resentment. 

Resentful as he was, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of joy.

‘He who falls in love first, loses.’

Someone had once said. Zetak felt the truth of that saying in every fibre of his being.

It had been almost four years since Zetak had begun living with Jaibid. Although he was still often referred to by others as “the corpse“, Jaibid had always been kind to Zetak. There were even rumours that Jaibid was particularly fond of him, confirming that it wasn’t just Zetak’s imagination. 

“His Highness seems very fond of this young servant.”

It was an ordinary day like any other. A casual remark from one of the concubines to Jaibid changed everything. Those simple words set the wheels of change in motion. After hearing them, Jaibid’s usual demeanour changed and he spoke less. Do I really care for this boy? The question began to take root in him. He asked himself over and over again, but no answer came. Why had this concubine said such a thing to him? 

The question aroused curiosity, and curiosity demanded an answer.

A brazier with hot coals, brought by another servant at his request, sat nearby. Beside it, Jaibid looked at Zetak.

“Come closer.”

The boy, oblivious to everything, eagerly approached his master with a bright expression on his face. Jaibid stroked Zetak’s hair slowly, his touch unusually tender. Confused but happy, Zetak’s cheeks flushed under the gentle caress. Jaibid stared at him intently. Do I really care for this boy? He tightened his grip on the hair he had caressed. He searched for an answer, driven by the need to know.

***

‘So he’s been discovered. He knows I’m a spy.’ 

That was the first thought that crossed Zetak’s mind when he was cast out. As he lay in the cold, damp underground prison, he cried and cried. But his tears weren’t from his twisted face or the pain in his body. 

‘His Highness must be so disappointed. What if he never wants to see me again? Your Highness. Your Highness. Please.’ 

The tears flowed endlessly. 

Zetak had always known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this day would come. He was well aware that he hadn’t entered the palace by normal means. He knew that if his secret was ever discovered, Jaibid would cast him aside. 

But deep down there was also a glimmer of confidence. Not confidence that he wouldn’t be discovered, but a belief – irrational and unfounded – that even if the truth were revealed, His Highness would forgive him. That if he apologised sincerely and begged, Jaibid would let him stay by his side. 

It was a foolish, unfounded belief, but Zetak had believed it with all his heart.

One of the main reasons Zetak had come to believe this was Jaibid’s behaviour. Someone who had been called a corpse by others had shown him infinite kindness.

‘His Highness would never cast me aside. Please, please, please.’

Perhaps it wasn’t confidence, but rather a desperate plea and a fragile hope.

His fingernails and toenails were torn off, one by one. In the midst of this agony, the truth he was beginning to understand drove him to despair. He wasn’t being cast out because they had discovered he was a spy. No, it was because Jaibid wanted to satisfy his curiosity, even if it meant trampling on others. It was the same thing Zetak had endured in the basement of the orphanage. From a normal point of view, Jaibid wasn’t sane. Normal people don’t crush others just to satisfy their curiosity.

But perhaps the one who wasn’t normal was Zetak himself.

‘It is all right. I can take it. If it’s His Highness, it doesn’t matter what he does to me.’

To Zetak, Jaibid was that kind of person.

‘If it weren’t for him, I’d still be in that basement, being experimented on. I’d have died long ago and been buried in the ground.’

That’s what Zetak believed. So if it was Jaibid, it didn’t matter what was done to him. As long as it ended with him at Jaibid’s side, he felt he could bear anything.

Twisted emotions. A twisted sense of loyalty. It was an abnormal obsession, no doubt. But even that began to change, little by little. The endless lashes of the whip, the branding of slavery – it all had a purpose.

The curiosity of wondering when Zetak would begin to hate him was what finally drove him into the abyss. It uprooted and crushed Zetak’s will.

‘Am I no more than that, Your Highness? Am I someone so easily discarded, a fleeting object of curiosity?’

The questions he had tried so hard to deny now filled his mind. 

‘I thought you cared for me. If you did, why did you let me believe otherwise? Why did you show me kindness?’ 

Panting with pain, Zetak looked at Jaibid. The eyes he had admired so much now looked down on him. But there was nothing in them. An empty shell of a man. The whispered gossip of the nobles pierced his heart once more. 

Jaibid watched Zetak lying before him in silence.

“As I thought…”

‘I feel nothing.’

Jaibid murmured inwardly. Without noticing, he pressed a hand to his chest.

Was it painful? Did his heart hurt? Did he feel like crying? These intense emotions never came. Instead, there was only a strange sensation, like a knife cutting into a part of his heart. But Jaibid didn’t understand what it was. He wasn’t aware of it. He was far too inexperienced to understand his feelings.

‘Do I care about this boy? No. I do not care about him.’

The answer was firm, unshakable. Jaibid was sure of it. And so he turned his back on Zetak.

Jaibid deliberately erased Zetak from his mind.

‘The boy means nothing to me. There is no need to remember him.’

Once misaligned, the gears could no longer turn and came to a halt.

Zetak listened as the sound of footsteps faded. There were no more tears. Lying on the cold stone floor, he stared endlessly at Jaibid’s retreating figure. His saviour. And the one he would one day kill. For Zetak, this was despair – a feeling like crawling willingly into a lightless void.

‘I was really nothing to him. Just enough to *rouse a passing curiosity, that’s all. He saw me as nothing more than a toy to play with.’

Zetak clawed at the stone floor. Blood dripped from his nail-less fingers, leaving crimson streaks.

‘If I truly meant nothing to him, then I’ll make myself someone he can never forget.’

A dark seed began to sprout from the depths of his heart.

*** 

Zetak opened his eyes gently. His pale grey irises revealed constricted pupils. A nightmare. A terrible past. Events he never wanted to relive. Shaking off the suffocating memory, Zetak tried to sit up – only to pause when he felt a weight on his arm. His previously tense expression softened as he glanced to the side. 

Jaibid. The one using his arm as a pillow was none other than Jaibid, fast asleep. Gently, Zetak lay down again and carefully pulled Jaibid into his arms. Feeling the warmth of his embrace, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Though the nightmare of the past had been harrowing, the reality he awoke to was sweet. Zetak stared at the worn ceiling of the inn in silent contemplation. It had been two years since he had impulsively left the royal palace. Memories from long ago surfaced – meeting Jaibid again in a theology class at the Academy felt as vivid as if it had been yesterday. But in reality, nine years had passed.

‘When did time go so fast?’ 

Zetak thought back to the moment in the temple when Jaibid had recognised him and saved him.

‘What would have happened if he hadn’t recognised me?’

Reaching out, Zetak brushed Jaibid’s hair away from his face, tracing his fingers along his forehead and gently caressing his cheek.

‘Sweet. Lovable. Lovable.’

These were words Zetak whispered to himself, words he would never dare say out loud.

What if he hadn’t spent those years at the Academy with Jaibid? The answer was obvious. He would have killed him. Killed Jaibid, then Karial, and taken his revenge to the bitter end. But even if he had taken all his revenge, the hatred inside him would have remained. Worse, Zetak believed he might have lived to regret killing Jaibid. That was the nature of the hatred he had carried so long ago.

Jaibid was a strange creature – at least to Zetak. Despite all the hatred he had harboured, Jaibid had somehow wormed his way in, eating away at him bit by bit. Slowly, steadily. He had eaten through that dark, festering mass, but not without raising Zetak’s blood pressure. When the hatred was finally stripped away, all that remained was the affection buried deep beneath. A single, stubborn shard of lingering attachment that Zetak could never quite let go of.

Even after being cast aside, he had no choice but to hold on to those faded emotions. Jaibid had saved him – in more ways than one. 

Zetak looked down at him in silence. The sight of Jaibid, fast asleep, made a dull pain rise in his stomach. Things were different now. If he wanted, he could reach out and touch him whenever he wanted.

“Your Highness.”

He called softly, but there was no answer. How cute, Zetak muttered to himself. Surely, Jaibid’s appearance was far from anything that could be called “cute”. If anything, his face deserved to be called cold, even intimidating. Zetak knew this too. And yet, to him, Jaibid looked unbearably adorable. Where could such a precious creature have come from? Hell, surely. A centipede from the demon realm. But Zetak didn’t care about the answer. To him, Jaibid was just… cute.