[First-person POV + two equally formidable leads + assassin × bodyguard + clearheaded, career-driven heroine + no golden finger]
An independent, resilient assassin who seems calm on the outside but has a whole monologue going on inside × a sharp-tongued, stone-faced bodyguard who moves like a ghost and stands as still as a post.
Here’s the blurb:
I’m a professional assassin, and I’ve taken a major job: kill the fourth prince, a hopeless romantic.
I didn’t expect the outsider bodyguard at his side to be just a tiny bit better than me at martial arts.
I poison him, the bodyguard switches the medicine. I try to assassinate him, the bodyguard takes the blade.
The fourth prince is so moved that his eyes brim with tears. “Yanyan, don’t risk your life for me!”
The bodyguard and I: “...”
Later, we were at each other’s throats, and I successfully dragged him into the mess. Why be a hidden guard? An open guard sounds much more respectable.
But why does it feel like things are getting out of hand? Wasn’t I an assassin? How did I end up on the team fighting for the throne? Fourth Prince, can you stop trying to get yourself killed? That doesn’t count toward my quota!
And you, bodyguard, whose side are you on? Who do you really answer to?
Reporting to my boss: can I quit now? I still have my missing dad at home... I mean, my healthy mom, and a whole family waiting to eat and drink well...
In short: Please, no! I only want money, not to lose my life!
Bodyguard: You dragged me into this and now you want to run? Is that how you do your job? But... I want to run too.
Me: Then what do we do? We can’t both run away. The fourth prince will wake up tomorrow morning and find his whole household has vanished...
(This story is set in a fictional version of history. All names, places, and events are fictional. Please note: It leans toward light comedy and includes modern expressions. Updates are at an average pace, so you may want to let the chapters build up.)
