"OUT! OUT, YOU SHAMELESS SCOUNDREL!"
The palace maids scattered like frightened deer, their pointed ears twitching as they ran. Their footsteps echoed through the marble hallways as they spread the latest gossip about me.
By the time I managed to get dressed, the entire palace already knew the news: the Third Prince had done something perverted again.
"Perfect," I said to myself, pulling on my expensive silk tunic.
The clothes felt strange on my new elven body. Everything was so fancy here—gold buttons, intricate embroidery, fabric softer than anything I'd ever worn in my old life. But I was getting used to it.
I looked at myself in the mirror again. Even dressed normally, I was ridiculously handsome. No wonder this prince had been so confident in his perverted ways. When you look like this, you can probably get away with a lot.
But I had bigger plans than just being a simple pervert.
A bad reputation was actually useful. Nobody suspects the fool, and nobody fears the clown. Everyone would think I was harmless while I secretly worked toward my real goals.
And me? I was the biggest fool and clown in the entire kingdom.
That was going to be my greatest weapon.
---
"Brother, do you have to keep embarrassing our family like this?"
The angry words cut through the air like a sword.
I was sitting in the royal dining hall, a massive room with golden walls and crystal chandeliers. The table was long enough to seat fifty people, made from some kind of rare white wood that probably cost more than most people's houses.
My siblings sat around the table like perfect little statues. All of them had the same beautiful elven features—pointed ears, flawless skin, and hair that looked like it came from a shampoo commercial. They sat up straight, used the right forks, and never spoke with food in their mouths.
Then there was me, slouching in my chair with a big grin on my face.
The one yelling at me was my older brother, Prince Caldor. He was the First Prince, which meant he was next in line for the throne. Everything about him screamed "perfect royal heir"—golden hair, serious expression, and a voice that sounded like he practiced his speeches in front of a mirror.
He was also a complete stick-in-the-mud.
"Embarrass?" I said, grabbing a grape from the fancy silver plate in front of me. "I prefer to think of it as living life with passion."
"Passion?" My sister Princess Elara nearly choked on her wine. She was the Second Princess, beautiful and smart, but with a temper that could melt steel. "You call spying on the maids in the bath passion? You're disgusting!"
"The humans are laughing at us because of you," added my younger brother, Prince Dain. He was only a year younger than me but acted like he was fifty. "Every time diplomats visit, they ask about your latest scandal."
I popped the grape into my mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "Let them laugh. A kingdom that can laugh is a kingdom at peace. Think of me as... public entertainment."
My siblings looked like they wanted to throw their dinner plates at me.
"You're not entertainment," Elara snapped. "You're a walking disaster! Last week you got caught reading those horrible books in the library. The week before that, you tried to peek into the women's changing rooms at the tournament. And yesterday—"
"Yesterday was a masterpiece," I interrupted with a proud smile. "Though I still say that laundry room incident was blown way out of proportion."
The entire table went quiet. My siblings stared at me like I'd just announced I was going to burn down the palace.
But then the doors opened, and everyone's attention shifted.
Father had arrived.
---
King Aelthorn walked into the dining hall like he owned the world. Which, to be fair, he kind of did—at least the elven parts of it.
He was tall, even for an elf, with silver hair and the kind of presence that made you want to stand up straighter just by being in the same room. His crown wasn't the huge, flashy kind you see in human kingdoms. It was simple but elegant, made of some kind of green metal that matched his serious green eyes.
Those eyes could freeze fire and make grown warriors wet themselves. Right now, they were focused directly on me.
"Third Prince," he said in a voice that could cut diamonds. "We need to talk about the prophecy."
Oh boy. Here we go.
---
The entire dining hall went dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop on the marble floor.
Every elf in the kingdom knew about the prophecy. It was carved into the roots of the World Tree itself, written in the ancient language that even most elves couldn't read anymore. The translation had been passed down for thousands of years:
*"From the most depraved of elves shall rise either the kingdom's salvation... or its complete destruction."*
And guess who everyone thought was the "most depraved elf" in the kingdom?
That's right. Me.
The perverted Third Prince who couldn't go a week without causing some kind of sexual scandal.
My siblings were staring at me with a mixture of fear and disgust. Caldor looked like he was calculating how to have me quietly assassinated. Elara was gripping her fork so tight her knuckles were white. Even little Dain was shifting nervously in his chair.
"Father," I said, standing up and giving him a mocking bow. "If destiny says I'm supposed to save or destroy the kingdom, then I guess I'll have to rise to the occasion."
Everyone gasped. They weren't expecting me to take it seriously.
But then I ruined the dramatic moment by flashing my biggest, most perverted grin.
"Though to be honest," I added, "I'd rather rise into the women's bath house."
My siblings groaned so loud it echoed off the walls. King Aelthorn rubbed his forehead like he had a massive headache.
But I caught something in his eyes—a tiny flicker of worry. Maybe even suspicion.
Good. Let him wonder. Let them all wonder what I was really thinking.
The truth was, I was already planning my next move. This perverted prince act was just the beginning. While everyone was busy being disgusted by me, I'd be working on my real goal.
Taking over this kingdom.
And having a lot of fun doing it.