They say curiosity killed the cat.
In my case, curiosity was about to ruin what little peace I had left.
Back at my apartment, the Shadow Queen was sprawled across the couch again like it was her personal throne. Her legs dangled lazily off the side, and she stirred her half-empty bubble tea cup with the straw, watching the pearls swirl like some ancient oracle reading the future.
Her eyes flicked toward me.
"Still wondering about my real name, aren't you, Caretaker?"
I nearly tripped over my own feet. "Wha—N-No! I'm not that nosy!"
She let out a low, dangerous chuckle.
"Be careful, Liam. There's a reason names have power. Guess wrong… and you may invoke a curse."
I froze. "A… curse?"
She sat up slowly, the playful glint in her eyes now replaced by something far more serious.
"In the Shadow Realm, to speak the true name of a sovereign without permission is to bind your fate to them. Utter my name in vain… and you will experience my 'special punishment.'"
I gulped. "Define… 'special punishment.'"
She smiled sweetly. Too sweet. Far too dangerous.
"Let's just say… it involves a week of personal service, nonstop. Cooking, cleaning, massages… Oh, and wearing this."
She reached into thin air—literally, pulled open a shadow portal like it was a kitchen drawer—and yanked out…
A frilly pink maid outfit.
I stumbled back like I'd just seen a ghost.
"NO WAY! There's no universe where I'm wearing that!"
She held it up, inspecting it thoughtfully.
"Hmm, I think the lace would suit you. It'll really bring out your helplessness."
I backed into the wall, waving my hands frantically.
"Okay! I'm not guessing! I swear I won't even think about your name again!"
She leaned back against the couch, laughing softly.
"Good. For your sake, Liam… I hope you mean that."
But the problem was… now I couldn't stop thinking about it.
What kind of name would a Shadow Queen even have?
Something dark and powerful? Like Lilith or Selene?
Or something deceptively cute? Like… Mochi?
I sat on my bed that night, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about it… but of course, that's all my brain wanted to do.
The next morning…
I walked into the kitchen, and she was already there—perched on the counter like a cat, sipping coffee she somehow made despite never using my kitchen properly.
Her lips curled into that deadly smile again.
"Good morning… Caretaker. Sleep well?"
I didn't. At all.
And the worst part?
My lips almost betrayed me. I almost said a name.
But I caught myself just in time.
Barely.
This woman was dangerous in ways I wasn't even prepared for.
To be continued…