"And you! Sir Det-wijit—have you known about this all along? Why did you allow your sister to bring such disgrace upon our family?"
Lord Krai's voice, filled with both fury and disappointment, echoed through the room.
.
.
Sir Det-Wijit, already pale with fear, felt sweat trickling down his temple. His body trembled as he knelt beside his younger sister, knowing full well there was no escape from the inevitable.
"Father, I was wrong," he confessed, bowing his head so low that his forehead nearly touched the wooden floor. "Please, I beg you to forgive both of us." The weight of his guilt bore down on him, rendering him unable to meet his father's piercing gaze. His eyes remained fixed on the floor, as if searching for a refuge from the overwhelming storm of emotions crashing over him.
Phiengwad, upon witnessing her brother taking the blame, could not bear it. She could not let him suffer for something he had no part in.
"He did not know, Father," she interjected urgently. "I only told him last night. Please, do not place any blame upon him."
Her voice, though filled with sorrow, remained firm. She would take the full weight of her father's fury if it meant shielding her brother from it.
Lord Krai turned his furious gaze back to Phiengwad. His face was a mask of bitter disappointment and barely contained rage. His youngest daughter, once his pride, now knelt before him in disgrace, her head bowed as if awaiting her final judgment.
"Phiengwad! You are the most beautiful woman in all of Ayutthaya. You are the dream of every nobleman's son! The sons of the highest-ranking lords have sought your hand, and yet, the path you choose is with a woman? Why?!"
His voice was sharp and cutting, slicing through Phiengwad's heart like a blade. She had long known that her love for La-Orchan would be deemed a disgrace in her father's eyes, but the pain of hearing it from his lips still struck her like a crushing blow.
"I… I never intended for it to be this way, Father," she whispered through her tears. "But I cannot force my heart to love what it does not."
Her body quivered with fear and despair. The anguish in her voice was raw, yet it did nothing to soften her father's wrath. Lord Krai's expression remained rigid, his disapproval unwavering.
To him, the relationship between Phiengwad and La-Orchan was not just an unacceptable scandal—it was an unthinkable disgrace, an insult to their lineage, a stain upon their family's honor that he could never tolerate.
Sir Det-Wijit, desperate to ease the tension, attempted to mediate.
"Father, perhaps Phiengwad is still young," he suggested cautiously. "She may not yet fully understand love or propriety. In time, she will surely come to favor a nobleman, as is natural."
His tone was gentle, his words carefully chosen in an attempt to temper the flames of his father's fury.
But Phiengwad, listening to her brother's words, felt her heart ache. She understood his intentions, knew he only wished to protect her, but the implication of his words stung. It was as if her feelings—her love—were being dismissed as something fleeting, something that could be corrected.
She lifted her head, her tear-streaked face now resolute. Her dark eyes burned with quiet defiance.
"I understand everything perfectly well, Brother," she said softly, yet with unmistakable determination.
She turned to Lord Krai, summoning all the courage within her.
"I know what love is, and I know what my heart desires. And what it desires is not any of the noblemen you have named."
Her voice did not waver. There was no hesitation in her words, only an unwavering conviction that had been forged through all the suffering she had endured.
She knew this was her one chance—her only chance—to make her father truly understand.
.
.
Hearing Phiengwad's words, Lord Krai felt an unexpected surge of frustration toward his youngest daughter—the one he loved and cared for the most.
This was not the first time she had defied his expectations.
The veins on his temple throbbed visibly, his once-calm demeanor now barely concealing the fury he was struggling to suppress.
"I love La-Orchan with all my heart, Father,"
Phiengwad continued, her voice unwavering. She had made up her mind to face the truth and stand by her feelings, no matter the consequences.
"After you canceled my engagement with the youngest son of Lord Alongkorn, do you remember what you told me? You promised that I could choose my own spouse. Now, I have made my choice."
Her voice was firm, even though she knew these were not the words her father wanted to hear.
Lord Krai pressed his fingers against his temples, his patience wearing thin. He pushed himself up from his seat, his expression dark with frustration.
"I told you to choose a husband! Not a woman!" he bellowed, his voice booming through the hall.
Lady Dao-Rueang flinched at her husband's outburst, sitting silently in her seat, too afraid to speak against him.
But Phiengwad did not waver.
"I have never loved a man, Father. And I never will," she declared with clarity and courage.
She knew that her father could never understand the love she shared with La-Orchan, but this was the one truth she could not deny.
Lord Krai let out a long, exasperated sigh, his hand dropping from his forehead as he turned to Sir Det-Wijit, his eldest son, speaking in a tone that, though calmer, carried the weight of deep disappointment.
"It seems we must arrange for Phiengwad to be married to a man immediately," he muttered, weariness creeping into his voice.
To him, this was the only way to fix what he perceived as a grave mistake. Deep down, he knew his daughter would never accept it, but in his mind, there was no other solution.
Upon hearing those words, Phiengwad felt as though the walls were closing in on her.
If she let this moment pass without resistance, she knew she would be forced into something that would shatter her spirit.
Summoning every ounce of courage within her, she straightened her back and spoke with unshakable resolve.
"I will not marry anyone, Father. If you force me, I swear you will never see me again."
Phiengwad's words were like oil poured onto a raging fire. The moment they left her lips, Lord Krai trembled with fury, his barely contained rage erupting beyond control.
"Phiengwad! You have grown far too insolent!"
His voice thundered through the hall, his entire body shaking with wrath. The veins on his temples pulsed visibly, a testament to the sheer force of his anger.
The intensity of his voice thickened the air with tension. Sir Det-Wijit, who had been sitting nearby, immediately recognized the danger in the situation. Without hesitation, he stepped forward to steady his father, attempting to pacify him with gentle words.
"Father, please calm yourself," he urged in a soothing tone.
But Lord Krai forcefully shook off his son's grip, his rage unyielding.
"Lock her in her chambers! She is not to leave until I say so!" he commanded, his voice cold and merciless.
This was not merely a punishment—it was an assertion of power. A declaration that he, as her father, would not allow his daughter to step beyond the boundaries of what was deemed proper.
Sir Det-Wijit stood frozen beside his father, his eyes filled with helpless concern as he glanced at his sister. But in this moment, he knew there was nothing he could do to protect her.
"I'm sorry, Phiengwad…" he whispered under his breath, his voice heavy with sorrow.
Phiengwad followed her brother without a word. She could feel the pain in his gaze, yet at the same time, she felt something shatter within her—something that had once connected her to her family. She pressed her lips together, refusing to speak. There was nothing she could say that would change anything now.
.
.
When they arrived at her chambers, Sir Det-Wijit opened the door for her. Phiengwad turned to glance at him one last time before stepping inside, her movements devoid of energy.
The door shut behind her with a quiet click, followed by the soft but resolute sound of the lock turning.
She stood motionless in the center of the room, her eyes flickering with emotions she couldn't quite name.
Tears welled up, threatening to spill, but she forced them back. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to suppress the overwhelming wave of despair surging within her.
Phiengwad slowly sank to the floor in the corner of the room, her body slumping with exhaustion.
She did not understand—why was the love she held for La-Orchan such a terrible crime? Why did something so pure feel like the greatest sin she had ever committed?
…
When Saiyood brought the devastating news to La-Orchan, it felt as if her entire world had collapsed in an instant. Her father was hastening the negotiations for her betrothal to Khun Ramdecha, pushing forward with an urgency that left no room for delay. But what shattered her heart even more was the news that Phiengwad, the woman she loved, was also being forced into marriage. Lord Krai was actively seeking a suitor whom he deemed worthy and suitable for Phiengwad, the woman who was La-Orchan's very reason for living.
It felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart, crushing it mercilessly within her chest. Every fragile hope she had ever dared to dream—of building a life with Phiengwad, of being by her side until their last breath—was shattered in an instant.
Her slender fingers clenched into tight fists, nails digging deep into her palms. La-Orchan staggered back a few steps before her legs gave way beneath her, and she collapsed onto the cold wooden floor, completely drained of strength. Tears poured from her eyes like an endless stream, and her broken sobs filled the once-quiet chamber.
Memories of Phiengwad flashed through her mind like a painting slowly fading into oblivion. The image of her radiant smile, the sound of her warm laughter, and the whispered promises of eternal devotion—they all surged forth, intensifying the grief that consumed her.
The pain and anguish La-Orchan had been suppressing for days had finally reached their breaking point. It was unbearable. It was suffocating. It felt as if the very ground beneath her had crumbled, leaving her with nothing to hold onto.
Her body trembled violently, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as a single, despairing thought echoed in her mind.
"I do not wish to live anymore..."
Her voice, broken and filled with unfathomable sorrow, was but a whisper against the silence of her empty world.…
.
.
In the stillness of the night, within the confines of the chamber where La-Orchan was imprisoned, she sat motionless, gazing blankly into the starless sky. Her sorrow-filled eyes shimmered with unshed tears before they finally spilled over, tracing a slow path down her pale cheeks. A cold wind drifted in through the wooden lattices, chilling her to the bone, yet the coldness that had taken root in her heart was far more unbearable than the one biting at her skin.
She drew in a deep breath, the weight of despair pressing heavily upon her chest. Each step she took felt impossibly heavy, as if unseen chains were dragging her down. With trembling fingers, she reached out toward the rope that had been prepared, tied securely to the wooden beam above.
As her fingertips brushed against the rough fibers, the tears flowing from her eyes were no longer just the remnants of grief—they were a testament to the depth of her hopelessness, the undeniable proof of a heart so shattered that it could no longer bear to go on. The anguish she had endured for far too long had finally become insurmountable. The suffocating pain, the unbearable torment—perhaps ending it all was the only way to escape.
Her fragile hands clenched tightly around the rope, her grip unsteady with hesitation yet firm with resignation. She closed her eyes, letting the final teardrop slip from her lashes and fall soundlessly to the floor.
A resolute decision had been made.
With one final breath, La-Orchan slipped the noose around her neck...
Ending her suffering in this lifetime, once and for all.
...
Writer Talk:
Hi everyone. Since it's the end of the month, I'm running a special promotion for The Curse of The Oath (English Version) E-book on the MEB app from today until March 7, 2026.
The price is reduced by 27%, from 520 THB to just 378 THB. Feel free to grab your copy while the sale lasts. The novel has 52 chapters in total, including NC-17 content.
Thank you so much for your support.
Since I'm unable to share a direct link, likely due to platform restrictions, you can search for the novel directly on the MEB app or visit www.mebmarket.com
...
Hojicha Writer
...