Tam Cam Part 2: The Vengeful Spirits of the Palace

After the deaths of Cam and her mother, peace gradually seemed to return to the kingdom. Tam was restored to her position as Queen, and both the court and the people believed that all grudges had finally come to an end. The virtuous had been rewarded, while the wicked had received the punishment they deserved. Yet some hatreds do not disappear with death.

The old people believed that souls who died carrying deep resentment and unfinished grudges could never truly find peace. Cam had died consumed by anger. In her eyes, Tam had taken everything from her, from her place in the palace to her very life. As for her mother, before throwing herself into the cold river, her heart held nothing but grief for her daughter and hatred toward the stepdaughter she had tormented for so many years. Those feelings bound their spirits to the mortal world.

At first, no one noticed anything unusual. Before long, however, strange events began to occur throughout the royal palace. On the first night after Tam’s return as Queen, while she slept beside the King, she suddenly heard the sound of a young woman sobbing somewhere in the darkness of the royal chamber. The crying seemed to drift through the room, sometimes near, sometimes distant, sometimes sounding as if it were right beside her ear, and sometimes echoing from the far end of the corridor. Tam awoke in alarm and looked around, but there was no one there. Even so, the crying continued until dawn.

The same thing happened on the following nights. The mysterious sobbing became a constant torment. Then one evening, beneath the pale light of the moon, Tam saw a woman in white standing motionless at the end of a long palace corridor. Long black hair covered her face. Slowly, the figure lifted her head, and Tam recognized her immediately.

It was Cam.

Her face was as white as death, and her eyes were red from endless tears.

A cold voice echoed through the corridor.

“Sister… give me back my life…”

The words were filled with sorrow and resentment. Tam collapsed in terror. From that night onward, Cam appeared again and again. Sometimes she stood outside the window. Sometimes she sat silently before a bronze mirror. Sometimes she appeared only as a fleeting white shadow crossing the darkness. Yet wherever she appeared, the same haunting words followed.

“Sister… give me back my life…”

At first, the King believed these visions were merely the result of Tam’s exhaustion and grief. But as time passed, even he began to notice that something was terribly wrong within the palace. Candles would suddenly extinguish themselves in the middle of the night. Windows would burst open without warning despite being tightly shut. The royal chambers became unnaturally cold, even during the hottest days of summer. The King gradually began losing sleep, while Tam grew weaker with each passing day.

If Cam’s spirit brought sorrow and accusations, her mother’s spirit brought fear of another kind. Because she had died in the river, her ghost seemed forever connected to water. Soon after the hauntings began, Tam found herself repeatedly suffering strange accidents involving ponds, lakes, and water. On several occasions, the surface of the lotus pond suddenly erupted into waves despite the complete absence of wind. Once, while crossing a stone bridge in the royal garden, Tam inexplicably lost her footing and fell into the water. Had her attendants not rescued her in time, the consequences might have been severe.

Such incidents occurred again and again. Sometimes a bucket of water would mysteriously overturn above her without anyone touching it. On other nights, Tam would awaken to find her bed, blankets, and clothing soaked as though someone had poured water over them while she slept. No one in the palace could explain these occurrences.

Gradually, an overwhelming fear of water took hold of her. Tam no longer dared approach ponds or lakes. She avoided looking at water after dark, and even the sound of flowing water caused her heart to race uncontrollably. The royal physicians examined her repeatedly but found no physical illness. Yet her strength continued to fade as though an invisible force were draining her life away.

What caused Tam the deepest sorrow was her inability to bear an heir. Year after year passed, yet the palace remained silent, without the laughter of children. Whenever hope seemed possible, terrifying nightmares would follow. In her dreams, Cam stood beside her bed, staring at her with hatred burning in her eyes. Behind her stood the stepmother, her hair hanging wet and tangled, water dripping endlessly onto the stone floor with a chilling rhythm. The nightmares shattered Tam’s peace and exhausted her body. Every hope eventually slipped away.

Rumors soon spread throughout the palace. Some whispered that the Queen was being haunted by vengeful spirits. Others claimed that the events of the past had never truly ended and that Heaven itself was demanding justice. In the beginning, the King remained supportive. He summoned priests, monks, spiritual masters, and exorcists from every corner of the kingdom. Rituals were performed, prayers were offered, and ceremonies filled the palace halls.

Nothing worked.

The sobbing continued.

The nightmares remained.

The shadows never disappeared.

As the years passed, the King’s patience slowly wore away. He became exhausted by the heavy atmosphere surrounding Tam’s residence. Every visit seemed filled with sadness, fear, and misfortune. The smile that had once captivated him had vanished from Tam’s face. Their conversations became shorter and less frequent. An invisible distance gradually formed between them.

The King no longer visited her as often as before. Instead, he devoted himself to state affairs, hunting expeditions, and distractions beyond the palace walls. Some nights he chose to sleep elsewhere to avoid the restless and troubled atmosphere surrounding the Queen’s chambers.

This wounded Tam deeply.

She understood that the King was drifting away from her, yet she was powerless to stop it.

Once the most beloved woman in the palace, she gradually became a lonely figure living among magnificent halls and golden walls. Fear and sorrow consumed her day by day. Her health, already weakened by sleepless nights, continued to decline. Her once-radiant face grew pale, and dark circles formed beneath her eyes from endless nights without rest.

Meanwhile, the royal ministers repeatedly urged the King to take additional consorts and secure an heir for the kingdom. The pressure from the court and royal family grew stronger each year. Eventually, the King agreed.

Young and beautiful women from across the land were brought into the palace. Music, laughter, and celebration returned to the royal courts. New favorites appeared, and new hopes emerged.

But none of those hopes belonged to Tam.

From the window of her secluded residence, she watched the brightly lit halls where the new consorts lived. There were songs, laughter, youth, and dreams of the future. In contrast, her own chambers had become a place of silence and shadows.

Night after night, after the entire palace had fallen asleep, Tam would hear slow footsteps echoing through the corridor. Then came Cam’s sorrowful weeping, followed by the soft sound of water dripping onto cold stone—the unmistakable presence of her stepmother’s spirit. Together, those sounds served as a reminder that the past was not finished.

Tam slowly came to understand that the true battle was never the struggle for power within the palace. That conflict had ended long ago. The real battle was now between herself and the spirits who refused to release their hatred.

And if she could not find a way to end their vengeance, she feared that one day she would lose everything she had fought so hard to reclaim.

(To be continued…)