"Your Majesty, everything is ready."
"Excellent. Then we move out." Siriporn stared at his reflection in the mirror, fastening his sword and adjusting his armor.
"Yes, sir." The man, clad in military gear, bowed and left the hall with brisk strides.
The door opened again immediately, echoing with the sharp clacking of heels.
"Your Majesty." The young woman, who had been nearly running, stopped two steps away. "I thought I wouldn't make it in time to see You. Why didn't You tell me You were departing today?"
"I specifically ordered that you not be told," came the rather cold reply.
She instantly regretted asking. Never ask a question if the answer might hurt.
"This is for you. For luck." Deciding to simply change the subject and pretending that everything was fine, the young woman held out a beautifully decorated small box. "Return safe and sound."
Siriporn's gaze lingered on the gift, and he accepted it. Restrained, without the slightest hint of a smile, not even for the sake of propriety.
"I thank you for the gift, Lady Darika." The man nodded in a gesture of gratitude. "I will certainly return with victory. But please, no need for more gifts. I have the support of my people and blessings from above—that is more than sufficient."
Another nod, this time in farewell. Then, with an even, confident gait, the man left the hall.
"He is always like this," Darika watched him go, her gaze filled with sorrow. "Cold and stern…" A heavy sigh followed.
Despite the fact that the entire court spoke of and expected their imminent union, Siriporn himself did not share these views. Although a marriage to Lady Darika Niran would have definitively strengthened his position among the nobility. The young King was also renowned for his appearance: handsome, tall, well-built, as well as intelligent and skilled. He was the most eligible bachelor of the neighboring kingdoms and beyond; any ruler would consider Siriporn first and foremost as a match for his daughter-princess.
Lady Darika had harbored feelings for His Majesty for a very long time and prayed every day for a speedy wedding, though loving the young King was not easy: constantly running into an indifferent tone and coldness in his voice—there was no talk of any courtship whatsoever. Despair sometimes seized the young lady, but, as is well known, hope dies last.
Siriporn made it clear that this marriage did not interest him, but he was King, and sooner or later he would have to marry—if only for the sake of an heir.
"Even if it is only a political marriage, even if only I love—that is enough for me."
Darika approached the window: the King was mounting his horse and giving orders.
"Return soon, my King."
The girl kept hoping Siriporn would notice her silhouette in the window, that he would glance at her one last time. But he did not look back.
******************
The military campaign into the lands of Luang was crowned with success—the very outcome King Novasit had hoped to prevent when he issued his challenge. Siriporn had expected greater resistance and was even somewhat perplexed by how quickly the victory was won. He returned home a victor to his people, but conquered—by someone else.
News of the King's return traveled fast. Darika immediately hastened to the palace, only to be met with a mysterious atmosphere and curious, furtive glances cast in her direction.
Had Siriporn finally decided to announce their engagement? Had he returned with victory and planned to hold a double celebration? Did everyone already know—was that why they were looking at her like that?
"I won't show that I've guessed."
Anticipating the cherished moment, and feeling incredible joy and overflowing happiness, Darika tried to appear as unruffled as possible. She entered the throne room, but it turned out to be empty. The servants said the King was in the South Wing.
"What is he doing there? I don't recall His Majesty ever visiting that wing."
In the corridor opposite one of the doors, the young woman met a maid and learned that entry was forbidden. The King had a guest—someone who had arrived with him from the campaign.
Upon hearing this, she was seized by a sudden, inexplicable dread; she sensed something was wrong, and a heaviness immediately settled in her heart.
When she finally saw Siriporn, she was met with the same old indifference, while the mysterious guest raised more and more questions and suspicions—questions the King refused to answer.
But rumors spread like wildfire. Thus, Darika learned that a stranger had arrived at the palace with the King. Servants who saw him that day said he looked twenty at most—just a youth, noticeably pale and skinny, so that his clothes hung loosely on him like a sack. The stranger was immediately given a separate room, one of the best in the palace. The King assigned servants to him and ordered the finest clothes in the kingdom to be brought. No outsiders were to be admitted.
Whispers began to circulate through the palace instantly.
"Who is he?"
"The lad isn't bad looking, did you see how clear his face is?"
"Is our King… you know?"
"Has he lost his mind?"
"What else is there to think? He brings home god-knows-who—and treats him like that immediately."
"Now it makes sense why he was dragging his feet with Lady Niran's engagement."
"Hush! Someone might hear…"
From the very first day, the boy was shown special attention by the King: it was ordered that he be treated as the most precious and important guest.
The court nobility was losing its mind, and young Lady Darika could find no peace, sinking deeper into sorrow with each passing day as she observed the behavior of the man she loved.
Everyone noticed the changes. King Siriporn watched over Athit - as his name was later revealed to be - like the apple of his eye.
It became clear to everyone: the King is in love. But with whom?
The boy had neither noble lineage nor statusnothing. He was a native of the State of Luang, lands that now belonged to Siriporn. He was a subject, a conquered one, yet his sovereign treated him like a fragile treasure. It was mind-boggling!
"Your Majesty, you are making a terrible mistake!"
Siriporn remained silent. He understood perfectly well where his actions might lead. Now that the marriage to Darika Niran would obviously not happen—and amidst such a scandal—his position would be severely undermined.
"For the sake of all the gods, Your Majesty," Noravit, the Royal Advisor, would not let up. "Announce the engagement to Lady Niran already, and do whatever you want with your… ahem… behind closed doors. What kind of ruler will you be in the eyes of your people and allies? Do not sow discord, please."
"What you are suggesting does not suit me," the King replied seriously. "I do not want to hide Athit from everyone, to have him live in the shadows. Furthermore, Lady Niran does not deserve that either. A political marriage is one thing, but serving merely as a cover is quite another. I do not wish to use her, knowing her feelings for me."
"Your Majesty, you do not live in a fairy tale where people marry solely for love and to whomever they want. You have become too soft and dreamy. That is what love does to people—it makes them weak. Everything was decided for you before you were even born, and your duty is to live the destiny of a King: including marrying for political calculation. You have obligations as a King—to your lineage, your people, the court, and yourself."
"In that case," Siriporn paused, "I will rewrite the rules, and my destiny as well."
The advisor's eyes widened in surprise.
"What are you planning?" he asked with a narrowed gaze. "Or have you forgotten what WE had to go through? Are you prepared to risk everything for this boy?"
"I will risk it. Both myself and my title, if required. If I cannot protect the person I hold dear, then how can I protect my people?"
"Do not do anything foolish, Your Majesty." It sounded more like a warning than a request. "I wish you only the best, you know that."
"Of course, Advisor."