Niamph's POV

I burst into laughter when I saw Lucy struggling to hold Bubbly. The little rascal leapt out of her arms and darted behind the table, disappearing under it like a mischievous child hiding from trouble.

"This cat... why doesn't she let me hold her?" Lucy huffed, placing her hands on her hips in defeat.

I raised a brow, amused.

"She doesn't like being picked up. She's selective, you know."

Lucy plopped down beside me with a dramatic sigh.

"But she lets you carry her like she was born for your arms."

As if to prove her point, Bubbly padded out from under the table and hopped onto my lap. She curled up against me, nuzzling into my chest like I was her personal pillow.

Lucy pointed at bubbly like she is a traitor "See? Told you."

I grinned at Lucy.

I gently ran my fingers through her soft fur as she purred contentedly. The sound was soothing, almost healing-like a balm on the quiet wounds inside me.

Then I glanced at Lucy again, clearing my throat.

"Lucy..."

She immediately turned to me.

"Yes, Niamph madam?"

I hesitated, unsure if she would tell me the truth if I asked.

"Uh... can you take me to see my father? I want to know how he's doing."

I saw her face fall. I already knew what the answer would be. It wasn't her fault-she was just doing her job. But I had hoped, even just a little, that she might agree. I really wanted to see him. Even though he was somewhere inside this same mansion, he was in a completely different wing, and I had no idea where. That day, when he had taken me to see him, I had been too overwhelmed to remember the way.

Lucy gave me a sad smile, laced with helplessness.

"Niamph madam, I'm really sorry. I wish I could help you. But I don't know where he is either."

I looked down, trying to hide the tears pooling in my eyes. Bubbly, as if sensing my sadness, reached up and gently pawed at my chin.

Lucy quickly added, "But... I can give you one hundred percent assurance that he's receiving proper treatment."

I turned to her, my eyes filled with uncertainty.

"How can you be so sure?"

Lucy's eyes widened, her voice laced with truth.

"I just know... because if Czar wanted to kill him, he would've never bothered giving him the best treatment."

I thought about that. She had a point. After a moment, I nodded quietly.

I sighed softly and shifted Bubbly into my lap more comfortably before looking at Lucy.

"Tell me about your family," I asked gently.

Lucy smiled at me and said,

"I live with my uncle."

I raised my brows slightly.

"And your... parents?"

Lucy's smile faltered, her eyes lowering. I immediately reached out and held her palm.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to-"

She quickly stopped me.

"No, no, Niamph madam. It's fine."

I gave her a soft smile, touched by her grace. She continued,

"My parents left me when I was only five..."

My heart clenched painfully. I could feel the weight of her words. The ache of losing one's guardians was something I could deeply empathize with. Lucy shrugged, giving me a tight-lipped smile.

"Since then, I've lived with my uncle."

I could sense from her tone that life with him hadn't been easy. Gently, I squeezed her hand.

"Lucy, I won't force you to talk... but I do want to say something."

She looked at me, curious.

"You know... there's a verse in the Bible that says: those who go through hardships with heavy hearts will eventually return with joy and blessings."

Her eyes widened, as if I'd said something she'd never expected to hear.

I gave her a soft smile.

Suddenly, Lucy burst into tears. I was surprised and instantly concerned. Did I say something wrong? How foolish of me-I shouldn't have asked her anything. I quickly reached for her shoulder, but Lucy threw her arms around me.

I froze for a moment, taken aback, then hugged her tightly in return and gently rubbed her back.

"Niamph madam... you're so good... hic..." she sobbed, hiccuping between her words.

"I... I've never been spoken to so kindly before. People either scold me or order me around... but you... you're an angel."

Her words shattered something in me. This sweet girl had endured so much loneliness. I held her closer and continued to rub her back in slow, soothing circles.

She broke the hug after a while, and I gently wiped her tears with my fingertips.

“Niamph madam… actually, my uncle always used to ask me for money…”

My brows furrowed with pain. Lucy sniffled softly.

“And you know… once, I bought a dress for myself with my own savings—because all my clothes had become rags…”

I looked at her, urging her silently to continue.

“And…” she met my eyes, voice trembling, “when my uncle saw it, he dumped an entire bucket of colored water on me… completely destroying the dress.”

My heart twisted painfully, and a storm of anger brewed inside me.

"Where does your uncle live?"

I asked her with concern.

Lucy wiped her nose and looked at me.

"He lives here. In the servant quarters."

Her eyes widened, as if she just remembered something.

"Oh no…"

Her sudden reaction made me anxious.

"What happened, Lucy?"

She looked at me, face pale with fear.

"He’s going to come again today. It's the first week of the month."

Lucy started fidgeting with her fingers.

"I was thinking of buying a phone this time… but maybe that’s not possible anymore."

I swallowed hard, my heart aching for her. I wanted to help her—desperately. But how could I?

I couldn’t fight.

I couldn’t provide.

I couldn’t even protect myself.

I closed my eyes, silently chanting verses from the Bible, begging Jesus to show me a way—to help me to  help her.

I opened my eyes as an idea sparked in my mind. I nudged Lucy gently. She looked at me with her usual attentive gaze.

"I have an idea," I said, my voice serious.

Lucy blinked in confusion.

"What… I mean, what kind of idea?"

"Just trust me," I replied, more firmly this time.

I know I can’t fix everything, but maybe—just maybe—I can make her a little less sad.

Lucy stared at me for a few seconds, then nodded slowly.

I exhaled and smiled, feeling a strange surge of determination.

"That’s it," I whispered with a grin.

I leaned down and kissed Bubbly's fluffy head. He was already fast asleep, curled up like a ball of peace in my lap.

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"You think it's a good idea?"

Lucy asked as I kept mixing different colours in the bowl.

I glanced at her and nodded, wiping a little sweat from my forehead.

"Yes. He destroyed your dress, right?"

Lucy immediately nodded.

"Then let's also do the same—with him," I said, my tone bubbling with excitement.

Lucy giggled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. The sound warmed my heart. At least now, she looked happy.

"Pass me the dark blue colour," I said, pointing behind her.

She quickly handed it over. I emptied the entire bottle into the already thick, sticky mixture. Lucy stared at it for a moment.

"It looks… terrifying."

I looked at her.

"Because it is. I’ve only used dark colours in it."

We both burst into laughter, imagining the outcome.

I took the main ingredient out of my pocket and added the activator into the liquid mixture.

Lucy watched with curiosity.

"What is it?"

I emptied the tiny bottle and answered,

"It's borax. It thickens the texture and makes it slimy."

Lucy scrunched her face in disgust.

"Eww."

I laughed at her expression, then dipped my hand into the gooey mixture and held it out toward her face.

"You wanna try?"

Her eyes widened in horror and she quickly backed away.

"Hey—no way!"

I burst into more laughter, unable to hold it in.

I had learned to make slime when I visited an orphanage once. The kids there used to pull little pranks on the warden—especially the one who would beat them sometimes.

I looked at the slime and mumbled under my breath,

“Time for step two.”

. . . . .

I was carefully adjusting the bucket filled with colored slime on the top edge of the door. My fingers worked quickly as I tied the end of the rope to the door handle, making sure everything was secure.

“He’s going to come through this door, right?” I asked, glancing down.

Lucy, who was holding the ladder for me, nodded.

“Yes. He always uses this one. As a servant, he’s not allowed to enter through the main door.”

I examined the bucket’s position one more time to make sure it would fall just right. Then I climbed down from the ladder and we quickly moved it aside, hiding behind the pillar near the hallway.

“He always comes at this time?” I asked in a whisper.

Lucy nodded again.

“He does.”

We both turned our attention toward the entrance, eyes wide and alert, hearts thumping with anticipation. There was a strange mix of nervousness and excitement bubbling in my chest.

“Did you set up the speaker properly?” I asked.

“I did,” Lucy whispered back, barely able to contain her grin.

“Hmm.”

I tightened my grip on the remote in my hand. The moment the bucket lands on her uncle, I’m going to press the button and blast a funny, circus-style tune from the speaker.

Let the prank begin.

We heard footsteps from outside the door. Me and Lucy looked at each other, eyes sparkling with mischief. We were practically holding our breath in excitement.

Time suddenly decided to move in slow motion, like we were in some dramatic spy movie. After what felt like a lifetime, the door creaked open. Our eyes locked on the bucket, watching it tilt... just a little more... just a little...

"Yes... just a liiiittle more," I whispered like an evil genius.

And then—BOOM! The entire bucket of slimy doom dumped straight onto the poor soul’s head. The bucket landed so perfectly, it looked like a weird new helmet. I burst into laughter and smashed the play button on the remote.

Cue the music—

🎶 "I feel good... 🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶 I knew that I would now!" 🎶

It was hilarious. The dark, gooey slime oozed down from the bucket, sliding all over his shoulders and splattering onto the floor like some horror-movie shampoo gone wrong. His head was still stuck in the bucket like a lost turtle. I was losing it.

But then I noticed Lucy wasn’t laughing. She just stood there, staring at him with a frozen expression. Confused, I smacked her arm mid-giggle.

"Hey! Hahaha—what's wrong with you?"

She didn’t even blink. Her eyes were wide open like she’d just seen a ghost.

🎶 "I feel nice... like sugar and spice..." 🎶

She whispered, almost in horror,

"It’s not my uncle."

My laugh died mid-wheeze.

"What?"

We both stared as the man slowly lifted the bucket off his head.

And there he was. Huge. Intimidating. Muscles that looked like they were sculpted by a Greek god having a bad day.

🎶 "So nice! So nice! I got you!" 🎶

He wiped the slime off his face with a slow, terrifying grace. Then those icy blue eyes landed on me.

I stood there like a statue, internally screaming and praying for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

Let me know about your views on this chapter. Your comments use to make my day.

Your thoughts on our poor niamph.