Interminable

The footfall patter ascending the stairs, though soft, was not to be mistaken by one who waited. Just a mere glimpse of the lock of raven-dark hair crested the bannister, and then the tall, willowy form rose to her feet.

 

"You're home, Khun Phi."

"Sophee..."

 

"I've been waiting since the evening. No one has the heart to tell me you'd be late." Her words accompanied a sweet grin as she offered her hand to take his briefcase. However, the man passed it to Saen instead, instructing him to store it away. Left with the hand hovering awkwardly, she quickly shifted to adjusting the hem of her dress to cover the embarrassment.

 

"I had an errand to see to. But why do I find you here, waiting for me at this house?"

 

"I haven't seen you return to the manor for dinner. I was afraid you might fall ill, so I brought you some food and medicine. Aren't I allowed to come?" The end of the sentence carried a hint of reproach, resulting in the shake of the head from the master of the house.

 

"Thank you. But if I truly fell ill, Nanny Yam is here to tend to me. You don't have to bother to come by yourself."

 

"How could you say that? Of course, I must come when-"

 

"Master, Nanny Yam has already finished preparing the meal. Shall we set the table now?" Saen stepped out of the workroom and cut in. Sophee turned to him with a disapproving glare, but since he didn't consider her his madam, Saen didn't see why he should scare her. The young aristocrat nodded in acknowledgement at Saen before resuming his gaze on Sophee.

 

"I shall have someone see you to the main house in a moment."

 

"I can return myself!" The sweet voice snapped. Barely had she arrived when she was already being dismissed! How could she not feel crestfallen?

 

"Aren't you here with Phi Som? Even though the main house is just a stone's throw away, it's already dark. I suggest having a man accompany you. Saen, tell Khem to see Sophee home." 

 

The tall man instructed the young servant as he handed over the lady's small handbag. "Please let your father know I shall call upon him tomorrow morning."

With just that tender smile and a slight concern, Sophee's resentment was almost entirely dispelled. She gave an approval nod, raised her hands in a respectful wai, and walked down the stairs.

 

"Tell Nanny Yam to put the supper away. I'm not hungry."

 

"But, sir..." The young servant hesitated to comply; his master kept wearing a woebegone look ever since returning from the small house of that performer lady. The look of disappointment in his sorrowful eyes made Saen on the verge of tears from sympathy toward his young lord. As cruel as fate, to be blessed by love at first sight, but once he pursued her, she wasn't the one who ever crossed his path.

 

"I shall bathe and retire for the night. Go and have your supper unless you might be unwell."

 

"What about yourself, sir? If you don't have your supper, you might also be unwell." Saen countered with the same phrase, leaving the former demander frozen.

 

"I said I'm not hungry."

"But..."

 

"Saen!"

"...Very well, my lord." The young lad took heed in a low spirit. He did it out of worry, but all he received was a mere scolding from his master.

 

The imposing figure sank onto the bed with a sigh. The faint scent of night-blooming jasmine drifted into the room. In other nights gone by, the fragrance might have lulled him into a peaceful slumber. But tonight, his thoughts churned and stormed so that he found it hard to lull himself to sleep.

Where are you?

 

Those obsidian eyes, enticing, silky skin, not to mention those plumping lips when she smiled-every detail of her was still vivid in his recollection. He still held on to the high hope that if they ever met again, he'd love to grow acquainted with the very woman who, upon their first exchange of glances, found her way into the innermost chamber of his heart. But is this just the end of his endeavour?

 

Despite the presence of hope, the truth forced him to retreat. Retreat? ...How could he, when his heart had already been stolen, taken in full by the one behind those

eyes? If he wished to reclaim it, he would need to seek her once more and plead for her heart in kind so that they might be made equal.

 

All else may wane and turn to dust,

Yet love for thee remains a must.

All else others were made to break,

Yet love for thee, / cannot forsake.

 

"What is it, hmm, Saen?" The aged, hoarse voice inquired, peering to find the other person who should have accompanied Saen.

 

"Khun Yai told me to put the meal away. He said he wasn't hungry."

 

"How so? What's wrong?" The wrinkled hands passed the rice bowl and the rest of the supper toward the young man.

 

"The Master is heartbroken," Saen spoke, lifting the bowl of rice only to let out a sigh and place it back down without taking a bite.

 

"What are you talking about? Khun Yai is heartbroken? If Khun Sophee overheard, it would definitely cause a tempest." Nanny Yam reproached while Saen writhed his mouth in disapproval.

 

"She's already gone back to the main house, Nanny, but I must confess I can't condone her behaviour. How could a young lady act so unbecoming?" 

 

WHACK! The young man failed to dodge in time before Nanny Yam's palm landed on his knee. "Nanny, that hurts!"

 

"Good! It's supposed to! You've got quite the mouth on you, daring to speak ill of Khun Sophee like that. Just you wait! If someone overhears you, you'll be whipped until your back peels off, and even Khun Yai can't save you." Nanny Yam's sharp glare pierced through him, making the boy wince for the second time.

 

"I'm only being truthful, Nanny. It was unladylike, especially when Khun Yai..."

 

"And so? Who are you to meddle in this matter? Whether Khun Yai wishes to act or not, when has it ever been his choice to make? If it weren't for the mercy of His Lordship, even you yourself would be ploughing somewhere in the field under the burning sun."

 

Saen pressed his lips together. As much as it stung to admit, Nanny Yam was so right. Even with much sympathy for his young lord, the fact that he couldn't do anything to help vexed him.

 

"We're nothing but servants, Saen. After all the generosity we've received, what else could you ask for more?"

 

"I know..."

 

"Well. For this moment, do what you please to help Khun Yai achieve whatever he desires. But keep in mind -it'll always be Khun Sophee at the end of the day." 

 

Nanny Yam let out a sigh before rising to return to her quarters, leaving the young man to exhale heavily as he pondered: how could he help his young lord, with those sorrowful eyes, find his smile again? A sweet yet doleful flute melody wafted through the air...

 

Saen lifted his gaze toward Khun Phra Nai's chamber, his brow pinched. Rarely did his master play the flute for the other to hear. This must be because of what had happened earlier in the evening. Saen shifted to sit outside the room, waiting patiently until the melody ended before tapping lightly on the door and speaking in a gentle voice.

 

"Khun Yai, would you care for a walk and enjoy the night air?"

 

"No. You can go to bed, Saen."

 

"Very well, sir." Saen sighed. By tomorrow, he may have to see about doing something.

 

The young lad stole a glance over his shoulder and exhaled. Right after the young lord paid his respects to His Excellency, who was also his father-in-law, he took the meal prepared by the manor house and departed for his duties. Saen could tell how uneasy his master had felt from dining with His Excellency's wife, her son, and her daughter. But even still, his master never let his composure go astray. On the contrary, that chiselled face looking out of the window now drifting betrayed a saddened gloom, even more lifeless than the expression he had this morning.

 

"Stop!"

 

"Yes?" The driver arched an eyebrow, but his foot did not yet touch the brake. The tall aristocrat straightened, looking back before barking out again.

 

"Stop the car!"

 

"Yes, sir." The driver could barely stamp on the brakes after clearly perceiving the order. No sooner had Saen asked why than the young lord yanked the door open and bolted out of the vehicle.

 

"Khun Yai!" Saen gave chase, but in mere moments, the broad back of his master vanished into the teeming crowd. Frozen in place, the young servant thought. What was his master chasing after?

 

The morning market was bustling with life. People jostling shoulder to shoulder with a noisy hubbub. The nobleman scanned the crowd feverishly, searching for a familiar face. It wasn't a trick of the eye, even if only for a fleeting moment from the car. That ebony hair, that delicate face-there was no way he could be mistaken. But where could that person have disappeared?

 

The young lord halted in his tracks, sweeping his gaze left and right amidst the tumult. His heart raced as though a battle drum, so loud and fierce that it left a dull ache in his chest. The pair of sharp, exquisite eyes swept over in search of the petite figure, even if no shadow was found. Those thick brows tensed tightly with concern.

 

Let me search for you a little longer; I must be sure my eyes aren't deceiving me, or that I'm missing you too much.

 

A sigh escaped as the tall frame found no trace of the one who filled his thoughts. Resolving to leave, he retraced his steps. His pace was languid, as though clinging to the faint hope that one of them might lead him to someone. But if only he had cast his eyes downward...

 

If only he had taken just a few more steps forward and turned his gaze slightly to his side, He would have met the one who haunted his every thought.

 

The wee frame, clad in a chaste white outfit, was prattling on a bargain with a middle-aged vendor in a cheery voice. She fiddled with the elegant straw hat in her hands, then adopted a pleading expression, until the vendor finally conceded and reduced the price by nearly half, cutting deeply into her profits.

 

"Thank you, Auntie," she said, laying a pretty hat atop to cover the indigo tresses that had been haphazardly curled from its long length. The owner of the ravishing hair beamed at the vendor, who sent an unremitted glare, so she extended a small bundle in return.

 

"These are filling sweets, Auntie. A little thank-you for your discount."

 

"All right, all right." Feigning displeasure, the vendor's hand took the sweets, nonetheless. She waved her hand dismissively, shooing away the persistent customer whose face she had grown familiar with. The petite figure straightened to her full height and walked away in the opposite direction from a person nearby.

Had that wee frame only turned, perhaps those eyes would have met a person who longed for none but this soul alone.

 

Had the steps been slower, the path might have crossed with sorrow-laden eyes searching for no one else. Had Kaewta halted her feet and stopped by just one more shop...the owner of that heart that beat like a war drum would have finally been found.

 

Khun Yai, handsome noble of the grand palace, the bearer of those dolorous eyes.

 

"Thank you with all my heart, Phi Chai."

"Don't mention it. I'm willing to help. 

 

Besides, it's been my plan to offer gallery space while I wait for other exhibits." The man smiled at the one before him. Chai was here today to invite Kaewta to display the boy's work in his newly opened gallery, as per his sister, Ruedee's suggestion.

 

"So, would you like to take a glance at those arts first?" The boy asked. At least the finest piece should be selected for display. He never wanted to disgrace his close friend's elder brother.

 

"Sure, I'd love to." The taller man followed, his heart swelling. It looked like Kaewta had started to let his guard down around him. The boy rose to his feet to guide him toward the hall; out of nowhere, Saen appeared from some unknown corner, halting them in their tracks, almost making Kaewta jump in fright.

 

"Would it not be better for me to bring your work here, master?"

 

"Oh, heavens, Saen! You startled me!" Kaewta sent a glare in dissatisfaction. Yet Saen only replied with an impassive face. His gaze was still fixed on the one behind rather than on the boy.

 

"There are too many artworks for you to carry them all alone, Saen."

 

The other person's name was spoken outright, as if to a close acquaintance, after Saen requested that the word "Khun" be omitted and that he be called by his name alone. It had felt slightly peculiar at first, but Kaewta had relented after Saen firmly insisted and had requested Saen to call him just Kaew in return. Judging from Saen's appearance, they didn't seem to be much different in age, yet Saen had consistently called him Khun before his name every time. Thus, he used the ultimate defence by calling Khun Saen. A reprimanding look and a firm objection were all he received until he tired himself out and defaulted to a formal pronoun as if Kaewta were his master.

 

"I will carry it over, Master," Saen insisted, still standing firm in their way, his eyes locked unwaveringly on Chai.

 

"As you wish!" The boy spun around and stomped his feet back to his seat. Chai glanced at Saen in bafflement, yet he held his tongue and sat down as well.

 

Saen relocated all of Kaewta's artworks to the pavilion, surprising everyone with the swiftness and the fact that he carried them all alone. Even so, Kaewta refused to meet Saen's gaze, nevertheless. Chai resolved to bring the drawing, with the artist himself lending a hand. Yet, Saen remained the one who had moved most of them, and Kaewta scarcely lifted a muscle. Once Chai had left, the boy returned to the kitchen to help his mother prepare the pre-dawn desserts.

 

"Have you had a proper look around the house yet, Khun Kaew?" Saen asked after lending a hand to Chan Pen and Kaewta in finishing their preparations. The boy, however, didn't reply. Saen chuckled softly before saying, "Do you know this house is called the White Manor? ..."The name, of course, came from its pure white exterior.

 

"How would I know?" The voice was sharply curt as he replied. Finally, Saen could capture the young man's interest. With a slight tilt of that flawless face, Kaewta took in the White Manor. Every inch, from its wooden panels to the roof, indicated the attention to detail, from the design of its structure to the choice of materials used in construction.

 

...The builder must have built this house out of love...

 

"This residence belonged to Chao Men Samur Jairatch, a noble during the reign of His Majesty King Rama VI. He was an adopted son of His Excellen-uh, Chao Phraya Narubodin..."

 

"But you said this house is mine, didn't you? When you brought my mother and me here." It wasn't that Kaewta was covetous, so he disputed it, but with honest puzzlement; what was the exact story behind this place?

 

"Khun Yai-Chao Meun Samur Jairatch, or Khun Phra Nai, was the one who built it, sir," Saen continued without satisfying his curiosity as if he hadn't heard that question at all.

 

"Khun Yai?" For some reason, Kaewta's heart stumbled over the rhythm after hearing that name-the familiarity, the warmth, and beyond that, a tense surge of yearning coiled within. A small pair of arms wrapped around himself when there was a breeze of wind fanning through. It wasn't chill; it was sad that he couldn't articulate.

 

"Yes. He built this house to share it with his loved one."

 

A wave of gloom and dismay crashed over him at the tale shared by the one at his side. Building this residence to share it with his loved one? Then why did he have to be depressed over it? The boy furrowed his brow as he couldn't quite grasp emotions within himself. However, that frown face and eyebrows drew another smile from Saen.

 

"But fate was cruel-they haven't yet moved in; this home became abandoned."

 

"Eh?" The pained tone made the young man lift his gaze.

 

"Though they loved each other so dearly, they were torn apart without even a word of farewell." Saen's ending sentence was so quivering that Kaewta could hear the grief through that voice.

 

"Torn apart?"

 

"Yes, but you can rest easy now-the two will gather again soon." Saen smiled widely as though he was filled with joy. His gaze met the smaller one's, full of hope, though Kaewta couldn't quite understand what Saen meant to convey.

 

"At the back of the White Manor, there's a garden blooming with flowers of every kind. Nanny Yam loves threading garlands, so Khun Yai ensured the flowers were planted to her heart's desire." The tall figure swivelled and resumed leading the way.

 

"You said as if you and Nanny Yam know Khun Phra Nai."

 

"Of course we do!"

"Eh?"

 

"Uh, I mean, our grandparents are."

"I see."

 

Saen guided the Keawta toward the flower beds, where the various hues of roses, oleanders, peonies, marigolds, and globe amaranths mingled with countless others whose names were too numerous to recall, spreading across the area. Unlike the front yard, the perennial flowering trees were planted to provide shade and aroma.

 

Since moving into this house, Kaewta had just now had time to explore the surroundings. The estate was far more expansive than he had thought, spacious enough to build another wooden house. The flower garden stretched along the edges of the house, and a riverside pavilion extended outward for leisure.

 

"There's another rehearsal pavilion at the back. Khun Yai said he built it for Khun Kae-l, his lover, to have a place to practice dancing in peace."

 

"Practice dancing?"

 

"Yes, sir. A Royal Court Music Department's dancer whose Chui Chai performance was so unrivalled that Khun Yai didn't wish it to be seen by anyone else."The deep-voiced man stifled his laughter, drawing a smile on the boy's face in response.

 

"That much?"

"Yes, sir. He's possessive about what is his."

 

"They must love each other so much," The soft voice faded at its ending.

"Yes. But before they could fall for each other, it caused quite a headache for every helping hand. And once they were in love, they made those who helped them green with envy." Saen laughed heartily when he told the story of his young lord and his beloved

 

"And... what kind of person is Khun Phra Nai's lover?" Kaewta couldn't fathom why he was so curious about that lucky individual, so the elegant white wooden house was clearly crafted with great care solely for her.

 

"That person was breathtakingly beautiful, master; that hair was silky and as black as a crow feather, those eyes sparkled like stars against the night sky, those lips were crimson without the touch of rouge, and that complexion was white as the heart of a banana stalk, with the form svelte and delicate." 

 

At those words, if it wasn't only Kaewta's whimsical imagination, Saen was staring at him as though hinting that person was him... or someone lookalike. Without any apparent cause, the boy's heart beat with wild fervour at the thought that he resembled the lover of Khun Phra Nai.

 

"But a real mischief-making one," Saen burst out in a loud laugh.

 

"From what I've heard until now, she didn't seem like any other woman at all," Kaewta's smile hinted at a kinship with that woman from bygone days.

 

"Indeed. That one was unlike the others. Those women who approached Khun Yai only cared for his looks, his wealth, and his status."

 

"You speak as if you knew her personally,"

 

"Only from stories passed down, sir. At first, the Master was despised to no end and even punched at one point." Kaewta's eyes widened at the backstory.

 

"Is that so?"

 

"Yes. There were times when that one climbed the trees just to avoid the Master or lure him into diving into the canal to fetch lotus flowers. Oh, you name it! Every prank in the book has been tried."

 

"With all those things, didn't the nobleman run away from such mischief?"

 

"Do you think he ran away, Khun Kaew?" 

Again, Saen's eyes threw Kaewta a question, and the boy knew that Saen had all the answers. His heart raced fast as if he were the one from the past that the man spoke of.

 

"l... I don't know. Perhaps not." Kaewta had almost blurted out, "He didn't run,' but he could twist his tongue in time.

 

"No, the Master didn't run. He did all he could to prove the depth of his devotion, even though..."

 

"Even though what?" Saen's gaze bore steadily on the one before him.

 

"Never mind, sir," said the man as he spun on his heels and left.

 

"Hmm?"

 

"There it is-the small house I mentioned," Saen said, pointing toward a door secured tightly with a sturdy lock. Kaewta's eyes followed the direction, putting aside his unresolved feelings for a while before positioning himself next to Saen.

 

"Here? Why is it locked down?"

"Would you like to take a look inside?"

 

If Kaewta had paid closer attention to Saen's tone, he might have heard how much delight and bubbling eagerness were hidden in those words.

 

"Can I?"

 

"Absolutely!" Saen reaffirmed and dove his hand into his shirt pocket. An ornate key was slid smoothly into the padlock. With a gentle twist of his wrist, the dream Saen had harboured for so long finally came true!

 

"What are you two doing here?" An ageing, raspy voice suddenly burst through, sending both men reeling.

 

"Nanny Yam," Saen's growl was deep.

 

"So, Kaew, is this where you've been hiding? Chan Pen has been searching for you," Nanny Yam said, shifting her gaze from Saen to the other young man.

 

"Does Mother have anything with me?"

"I heard she's going out to buy a dessert woven tray or something of the sort."

 

"If so, then I must go along to assist her," the boy said, casting a wistful glance at Saen. 

 

"We'll revisit this place another day, Saen." The name owner nodded in acknowledgement and said no more when the small-frame boy went out of sight.

 

"What exactly are you doing, huh, Saen?" Behind the boy's back, Nanny Yam yelled at the man who remained unmoved so loudly.

 

"I can't stay any more patient, Nanny," Saen explained.

 

"Then you thought of bringing him into that house?" Saen nodded. "Do you really think that's what the master wishes? Imbecile!" Nanny Yam's gaze still harboured her rage.

 

"Then what am I supposed to do, Nanny? Don't you see how much he suffers? Staying so close within reach yet can neither meet nor talk to!" The man's voice shook, softening the heart of the once-angry one.

 

"Do you think I don't sympathise with him? I do, but if Khun Kaew cannot recall or recognise him, what use is it to bring him into that room? He would only grow scared or perhaps even run for good,"

 

"Then what should I do, Nanny Yam? I only want Khun Yai to be with Khun Kaew very soon."

 

"And we can't make him stay at this house with us forever, too. Doing so would only hurt Khun Yai further."

 

"He doesn't want his spirit confined. He only wants to be loved wholly by Khun Kaew."

 

"Forget it, Saen. Let it run its course. I believe that's what Khun Yai might as well prefer."

 

"But..."

 

"Saen!" Nanny Yam's warning compelled the young man to give an inevitable nod. He lifted his gaze to the house and let it drift toward the wide veranda. There, the silhouette of someone stood, watching Kaewta's slim back go out of sight. Those eyes brimmed with melancholy longing and deep grief to the very core of the heart...

 

"I've made my decision, Nanny. I will do everything in my power to help Khun Kaew regain his memory soon!"

 

"Where are you now?"

 

"What is it, hmm, Chan Pen? You've been muttering since earlier," the elder woman asked, glancing up from her betel tray.

 

"It's Kaewta, Nanny. After returning from the market, he completely disappeared."

 

"He's probably gone up to rest. He seemed exhausted, complaining of a headache."

 

"Good grief! The sunlight must poke his eyes at this late evening," muttered Chan Pen, readying herself to check on her son.

 

"Leave him be, Pen. If the boy is unwell, you shouldn't disturb him."

 

"But if so, I feel the need to see him even more, Nanny Yam. Did he take medicine, I wonder?"

 

"I made sure he took it. You go on and make him something to eat. When he wakes, he'll have the meal waiting and ready to fall back to sleep to be well sooner."

 

"Is that a good idea, Nanny?"

 

"Leave it with me. I checked on him just now, and he was asleep. Why are you worried so much about him?"

 

With that, Chan Pen changed direction from the bedroom to the kitchen to prepare the fish porridge for her son. But without knowing why, when the food was ready, she forgot all about waking him. Nanny Yam, on the other hand, held her with a piquant until the night grew old. Losing track of time until nearly midnight, she retired to her room. The moment her head touched the pillow, she fell asleep soundly until the next morning light. The new dawn broke when she realised she had forgotten to check on her son the night before.

 

The pristine-faced boy lay still with his eyes closed. The steady heave of his breath revealed a sleep so deep that he was undisturbed by the arrival of someone. His vivid-hued lips parted slightly when he exhaled, sometimes curling into an unconscious smile and sometimes those slim brows tightening into a frown.

 

The shadowed figure dropped himself next to the small one. His glacial fingertip brushed softly against the smooth forehead, tracing to the tip of the button nose and taking a long pause at those full lips. Leaning forward, he let the tip of his nose lightly graze the other man's silken cheek with the longing that overwhelmed him. Even in such proximity, his thoughts whirled uncontrollably, refusing to quiet for even a second. Since their reunion, it was nothing but a frail barrier between them, nothing...but the thin air...

 

Moonlight shone through the window, reflecting the goodly but gloomy visage of the young lord, the White Manor owner. His finely arched brows furrowed tightly, hinting at his discontentment, yet no words escaped those lips. He simply sat there, watching the one he loved in quiet reverence. The magenta silk blanket was drawn up to the boy's chest, heaving up and down with the even rhythm of his breaths. The night air had grown colder than it had been at dusk, and the gentle scent of jasmine garlands that Nanny Yam placed on the side table floated in the air. 

 

From outside, the fresh fragrance of orange blossoms wafted in, yet it could not rival the sweet scent emanating from these blushing cheeks. 

 

By zephyr borne, the orange jasmine scent takes flight, Enrapturing the core with dewy scent reverie,

In wistful hush, I yearn for our past we once dreamed of,

That one night where intimate love still lives on.

The moon-blessed sky and paradise by a river,

The bloom unfurls, filling the air with sweet,

That flower, though, surrenders to your balm, soft cheeks

When I snivel my own jasmine,

It soothes and comforts my whole soul.

 

"He doesn't look well," said a low, tender voice laced with worry.

 

"Perhaps it's because he's been exposed to the sun and wind even before sunrise, sir. He went with Mother Chan Pen to buy goods at the crack of dawn and had to go out again in the afternoon," Saen answered with a faint voice—the speaker's form dissolved into the void of darkness. No one could barely feel his presence unless they heard his voice. He watched the figure lying long across the bed but made no move to approach.

 

"Lucky enough that lately, he hasn't dreamed about... that forest." That sharp gaze flickered with a profound pity for the one before him.

 

"It's unavoidable, master. If he doesn't dream of that place, if he can't recall..."

 

"I know, Saen, I know. But when you see that face suffering, can you tolerate it?" Saen hung his head low in silence at those words. "If I could, I would take all the torment of that day upon myself."

 

"Khun Yai..."

 

"In this life, in this realm, and even in dreams, why is he fated to face it again?" His baritone voice quivered with emotion. 

 

"Am I too selfish, Saen?"

 

"You're not selfish, master!" The servant blurted out a loud denial in protest.

 

"I know I am, Saen. I am selfish, yet I cannot let go of waiting." Saen wept quietly to his master's despair, knowing that his lord... had shed too many tears that there were none left to fall.

 

"Look at those hands, so cracked and worn to this degree..." The man brought the small palm to his cheek, though his eyes were still locked on that face. Even before meeting him, he had known Kaewta's plight, working hand-to-mouth to pursue his higher education, all while bearing the weight of that tiny, exorbitantly priced rented house. If only he had found Kaewta since childhood, the other person wouldn't have had to endure such hardship.

 

"We've done all we could, master." The young man acknowledged Saen's remark with a nod. "As for the treasure hidden below the house..." Saen suggested, recalling what lay beneath this manor.

 

"Do you think he'd accept it?" The young man's disruption caused Saen to pause before shaking his head at the answer to his young lord.

 

"No, master. Not only did he reject it, he'd tell us off even before we could manage to run." Saen's words drew a quiet laugh from the young man.

"True enough. At worst, you might end up with a bruised chin from his fist."

"Just like you did."

 

"Yes, just like I did." The end of the line was soft as he walked into his past. A faint smile curved his lips, accentuating his sculpted features under the pale glow that dimmed the moonlight outside. His high-bridged nose lightly touched his scented cheek once more before retreating, steeped in longing.

 

To hold, though the other person remained oblivious.

To yearn for, though the feelings were yet unreturned.

 

What good was this love when the eyes he cherished were empty, reflecting none of him, just as they had in the yesteryears? And because of that, the pain still splintered within him. Slowly, he tried to urge the boy's fragments of memories they had shared, bit by bit, holding on to a promise he had been waiting for so long. So long...that he lost count...yet never ceased to wait…

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

The young lad hesitated at the doorway, mulling over what excuse he could use to coax the person inside to come away with him. But before he could decide, the office door burst open.

 

"Let's go, Saen." That hurried manner took the young lad by surprise.

"Go where, master?"

 

"To the house to change clothes." The lips were moving, and both feet didn't stop to stride, making the one behind hasten his pace to catch up.

 

"Change clothes? Why must we change them?"

 

"Unless you want to draw everyone's eyes when we head out searching for someone."

 

"Searching for someone?" Saen was baffled at first, but when he pondered back to the morning's event when his master had leapt from the carriage as if chasing someone, a smile spread across his face. "To go after that Lady Chui Chai?"

 

"And who else would I be looking for? Mother Payom?" His master's voice, mixed with stifled laughter, amused by his own jest, made Saen smile along.

Once they had changed into plain, unassuming clothes that betrayed no hint of rank, the two returned to the bustling market they knew, like the back of their hands, and spotted the figure they were looking for. But this time, the young nobleman took a stroll, measuredly scanning each shop with patience, unlike what he had done in the morning. His eyes searched around for the slender form etched in his mind. Saen followed close behind, assisting in the search.

 

"I was planning to visit Mother Payom this evening. They say she's been unwell for many days now. And as for Kaew, he's sung and danced so much he might as well belong to the Royal Court Ensemble by now."

 

Those words made the tall gentleman stop abruptly at the hat shop. Both the name Mother Payom and the mention of the Royal Court Ensemble caught his attention, for he had once sought someone and had only encountered a middle-aged woman who claimed the name Payom.

 

The young nobleman cast a glance at Saen before quickening his steps toward the old, weather-beaten wooden house where he had been before and left with despondency that he had lain in a daze for days. This time, however, his heart was full of hope. Another young man, Saen, stretched his neck to peer ahead.

 

"Why just keep craning your neck, Saen?"

 

"Well, Khun Yai... What if Mother Payom throws us out again?" Saen replied, pouting.

 

"But I won't wait." The young man shoved Saen aside and made his way toward the woman, who was stringing flower garlands on the veranda. She looked up, frowning at the sight of such a strikingly handsome visitor. He sat down, offering her a wai so quick and respectful that she hardly had time to return it.

 

"What brings you here, young man?"

 

"You're Aunt Payom, aren't you?" He recognised her as Mother Payom, the one who had chased him and Saen away from this house on their last visit. However, she now appears to be in remission from her illness.

 

"Yes," Payom replied, unable to recognise the one before her.

 

"Well..." The deep-voiced man trailed off, unsure where to begin. Their earlier expulsion had been over questions about that Chui Chai performer.

"So, what is it, young man?" Payom's eyes were gentle as she gazed back. She wasn't an inherently heartless person. Quite the contrary, Payom was a patient and generous soul. Previously, it was only because she wasn't in good health, and the suspicious manner of these two compelled her to drive them away.

 

"Kaew..." The young lord tentatively ventured the name he'd heard in the market, thinking it might belong to the person he was searching for.

 

"Oh, you're looking for Kaew? Kaew's gone to the practice pavilion to bring a costume for mending and should be back shortly." His heart raced at her reply, and an exuberant smile spread across his face. He decided to wait. 

 

Payom brought out a large bowl of fresh rainwater floating with fragrant jasmine blossoms when she noticed another tall young man accompanying him. The young nobleman introduced himself as Yai. Saen, who hadn't met outright hostility just like the last time, took the chance to chat without pause. After a long while, they saw a slim figure make her way toward this house.

 

The gentleman rose to his full height, his calm heart once again racing. The man inwardly chuckled at himself for feeling this giddy about meeting one of his dreams as if a young boy, despite his age being well past such childlike excitement. But it was despite himself; his lips involuntarily unfurled into a smile, his captivating eyes sparkling as he envisioned that youthful face. That elegant figure glided so gracefully when she danced...And now, the one who seized his entire heart stood right before him.

 

"Hmm?" Those tapering brows knitted in confusion as a tall figure blocked the path. The other one looked up, puzzled by the wide smile he sent this way.

Khun Phra Nai was rendered speechless at such closeness. To meet her gaze...

It was close enough that he could catch the faint scented water emanating from her petite frame. Her pitch-black eyes refused to waver. Instead, her eyes met his with the same unyielding look, even if it meant craning her neck until it ached. Both arms clutched tightly to a basket brimming with garments of some sort.

 

This is the vision my heart designed,

Her form in faultlessness is enshrined.

Fair sprite, thy shape is sheer divine.

No maid in royal city like thine.

 

"Who is this? What do you want?" Asked the husky-voiced one, tone clipped.

 

"Uh..." Her face was sweet, contrary to her voice. The young nobleman's dark brows knit in puzzlement.

 

"l..."

 

"If there's nothing, move away." A smaller shoulder nudged past his sturdy frame to get into the house. But her arm was grabbed by a large hand. She turned around and drew a glare at that young lord so fiercely that the young nobleman let go of her in a split second, opposite to his wish in knowing that he shouldn't trespass on her in any way. Swallowing hard, he tried to suppress his excitement and the erratic rhythm of his heart to become sober again.

 

"Lady..."

"Huh?"

 

"Are you the one who performed the Chui Chai dance on royal court day?"

His deep voice quivered, much like the rhythm of his heart, and his expectant eyes flickered from the longing to hear an exact answer escape her lips...

 

"Yes, it's me who performed the Chui Chai dance that day!" The sweet voice was short and curt. The indignation in her voice was so loud it sounded like a shout, bringing the person inside the house rushing out to see what had happened. Payom gently patted her child's arm to calm her down while Saen rushed over and stood behind his young lord.

 

"What's going on, dear?" Payom asked

"Who are these two, Mother?" the small figure asked her softly, bending down.

 

"Well, they came asking for you. Aren't they your chums?"

 

"Chum? Which chum would call me 'Lady'?" Her arresting eyes glared daggers at the tall figure, unrelenting.

 

"If the word Lady isn't right, then what should we call you, Lady Chui Chai?" Saen questioned on behalf of his master, whose face had already lost countenance at the sharp words of the sweet-looking individual.

 

"I am not Lady Chui Chai!"

 

"Oh?" Saen let out a sheepish sound after being snapped at as well. "Call me whatever you want, but if you're going to call me Lady, let's just settle this right now!" The young lord's Lady kept whining.

 

"I am a man; how could I ever raise my hand against Lady Chui Chai?" said Saen, despite tucking himself behind his master.

 

"Ha! If so, I shall kick you first!" The small figure shoved her basket into her mother's arms, rolled up her sleeves, and stepped toward the two towering men. Saen, however, quickly yanked his young master to block her path.

 

"Wait! Wait!" The taller figure lifted his hands to a halt. His voice was loud, and he was all sweaty. Studying the flawless face closely, he found nothing but enchanting. "Why don't you let us call you Lady?" The man held his breath and asked, his heart beating even louder than moments before.

 

"Because I'm not a lady!"

"Then?..." The taller man swallowed hard. His eyes drifted downward..

 

Although her sweet voice was somewhat husky, unbecoming of a woman, his joy blinded him to it. Her bold demeanour, akin to that of a valiant man, failed to rouse his suspicions. The man scrutinised her ebony hair, long and fine yet cursorily pinned with a small wooden stick. Those gentle features, fierce almond-shaped eyes, deep-hued lips, slender shoulders, pale arms, and flat chest… Before anyone could react, the sturdy hand outstretched to rest against that flat chest of the lady, drawing gasps of shock from those around.

 

The young lord's sharp eyes widened.

A man!

The Lady Chui Chai is a man!

The person who took his heart away is a man!