At 23, Hwang Hyunjin is no stranger to bloodshed. A lethal mafia member known for his precision and loyalty, he’s seen as a weapon rather than a man. But everything shifts when he’s hired as the personal bodyguard to a royal—one who just so happens to be his childhood best friend, Prince Kim Seungmin.

Seungmin, 20, may seem delicate, with porcelain skin and a soft-spoken voice, but beneath that fragile exterior lies a spirit forged in quiet fury. The youngest of the three royal children—behind crown prince Kim Soohyun and assertive princess Kim Minji—Seungmin has lived a life shielded from the world, except for Hyunjin, the only boy who truly saw him.

Now, Hyunjin returns, dressed in black and hiding a past soaked in crime, to protect the very boy he once held under the stars as they made promises neither of them kept. But the palace is a cage of secrets, and loyalty here cuts deeper than any knife. And while Hyunjin stands guard with a cold gaze, Seungmin’s mere presence threatens to melt every wall he’s built.

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A long obsidian table stretched down the heart of the royal dining hall, bathed in warm gold light from the crystal chandelier above. It gleamed like oil under fire. Plates of grilled sea bass, plum-glazed duck, and shimmering slices of dragon fruit sat untouched before the royal family.

Queen Kim sat at the head, calm but stern, sipping a glass of elderflower wine. Beside her, King Kim scrolled through a folder presented by his advisor, not even glancing at the food. Prince Soohyun, the eldest, sat upright, back straight as a blade, eyes flicking from the king to his younger siblings with subtle calculation. Princess Minji, bored and bold as always, prodded her food with her fork while making sarcastic remarks about a duke’s failed wedding.

And then—at the far end, curled slightly into himself in a velvet chair—was Prince Kim Seungmin.

He looked otherworldly tonight, dressed in a soft white button-up with faint silver embroidery. His soft brown hair fell over his eyes, and he hadn’t touched his plate. Instead, his attention was completely on the phone glowing in his lap, thumbs tapping rapidly. His lips were pursed slightly in concentration.

Hyunjin stood beside him, dressed in a black suit—no tie, shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal a sliver of his tattoo ink climbing from his collarbone. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the room like he expected someone to lunge across the table with a knife. The mafia had taught him to expect worse in places that looked this peaceful.

From behind, Hyunjin glanced at Seungmin’s screen. Messaging app.

“Still glued to your phone, Your Highness?” Hyunjin murmured, voice low but edged with teasing.

Seungmin didn’t look up. “Minji’s group chat is on fire right now. Someone leaked that she got into another fight with Duchess Rina.”

Minji scowled. “She threw wine at me. You weren’t even there.”

Queen Kim raised an eyebrow. “Children, we’re eating.”

King Kim finally spoke without looking up. “Seungmin, put it away.”