Interminable

"I love you, Kaewta." The speaker said as he tightened his embrace. And when the one being held offered no reply, he inquired once more. "Please tell me if you feel the same way, won't you?" The man let out a quiet sigh; never had he heard the word love from the person before him.

 

"Has all that I have shown you still not proved me true?" came the husky, gentle reply, the owner of those crimson lips lowering his head, hiding the flush upon his cheeks until his chin nearly touched the chest.

 

"Even knowing it, I still long to hear it from Kaewta's lips. Won't you say it for me?" His entreating voice carried to the other's ear. The tip of his high-bridged nose skimmed the smooth cheek, kindling it with heat.

 

"Once you return..."

"Yes?"

 

"Once you return from your duties, I shall tell you the word you wish to hear."

 

"Truly?" The handsome face broke into a wide, contented smile as he tightened his embrace. He had nearly resigned himself, unwilling to compel. Merely having Kaewta in his arms should have been enough. Even without the word love' in return, it should have sufficed.

 

"Mm."

 

"Promise me. When I return from this duty, I shall at last hear that word from you." The man sought his pledge. The one nestled in his arms smiled, radiant, and pressed his face to that solid chest to hide his endearing shyness.

 

"I promise. Once you return, then Kaew will say that word to you." He would say the word 'love' loud and clear… He would show just how deep his love was...

He promised.

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"What did you say?"

 

"Arjan Kitti has already resigned." That sentence was repeated. It almost sent the listener crumpling to the floor.

 

"Kaew!" Ruedee lunged forward, supporting her dear friend in alarm. Kaewta's face had turned deathly pale the moment he heard the news of the department instructor's resignation. She couldn't comprehend why he was so shaken.

 

"That can't be true.. You're joking, right?" The boy shook his head, refusing to accept what he'd just heard.

 

"My drawing... What about my drawing?"

 

"I'm sorry, but it's true. Arjan Kitti's resignation letter was sent to the university a few days ago. We looked for him at his house, but there was no one there, no drawing, canvas, nothing at all," the female professor reiterated in a cold, indifferent tone.

 

"Could you please give me his address? I need to get my drawing back." With Ruedee's help, Kaewta could straighten himself to his feet. His voice was ragged, implored.

 

"I said we didn't see a single artwork at his house!"

 

"But I need that drawing back!" The boy snapped, causing Ruedee's eyes to burst wide in disbelief; she had never seen Kaewta in such an attitude. Neither did the professor.

 

Finally, they had Arjan Kitti's address, though Ruedee couldn't fathom why Kaewta wanted that drawing back so desperately when he should actually draw another one.

 

After leaving the hospital, Kaewta didn't head back to the White Manor; instead, he dragged his classmate to the university first. It was the first day of the new semester, but they still hadn't found Kitti as they'd hoped. Along the car ride, Kaewta kept thinking that if he could just get the drawing back, he would pretend as if that incident had never come to pass. If Kitti apologised and promised never to make any further foul attempts on him, he would let it all go. But the news he received left him weak at the knees. His mind went white-blank, his chest felt hollow, and soon filled with boiling rage toward that man.  How dare he take his drawing! Steal that person away from him!

 

"Kaew?" Ruedee placed a gentle hand on his arm. The vacant room before them made Kaewta clench his fists, his dark-hued lips pressed tight.

 

"Where is he..." The murmur came out of his shaking lips.

 

"Forget about it, Kaew. You can always draw it again," Ruedee tried to console him.

 

"No. You don't understand." Kaewta shook his head at his friend's reassurance; Ruedee couldn't grasp how precious that drawing was to him.

 

It was the gloomy smile of the man in his dreams. That face was blurry, yet somehow he had managed to capture it so precisely, including those melancholy eyes. That man, whom Kaewta was certain he'd never met, yet that smile felt so strangely familiar, as though it meant for him, as well as those warm eyes always been fixed upon him, so he'd poured his overwhelming feeling into the drawing, not knowing what called it forth.

 

Kaewta fell in love with that smile, with the eyes of the man in the picture, who was no more than a figment. It took him over a week to finally submit that drawing for the assignment. Despite so much effort to draw other people, none of the pictures ever finished; that vague face in his reverie was the only face Kaewta could draw.

 

"Let's go back to the White Manor, Khun Kaew." A low voice behind him pulled the boy from his pensive thoughts. Surprised, Kaewta looked up at the tall man standing there.

 

"Saen.."

 

"Please return home, Master," Saen repeated.

 

"He's right, Kaew. Let's go home first, and then we'll figure out how to get your drawing back." Ruedee agreed yet looked at Saen in puzzlement. How had he known where to find them?

 

"I went to the hospital to take you home. Your mother told me you had come to the university. I followed because I was worried, and that's how I knew you were here," Ruedee nodded to Saen's explanation. The crease between her eyebrows unconsciously grew relaxed. 

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Ever since that day, Kaewta's thoughts kept circling where Kitti might be hiding. He desperately wanted his drawing back. The more he tried to redraw it, the more his fingers refused to cooperate. Frustration consumed him so much that Ruedee scarcely dared tease him as she habitually did. 

 

After each class, he merely sat in a daze, and once home, he would remain motionless before a blank canvas.

 

"Kaew, would you like to join me in giving morning alms to the monk?" Chan Pen asked. The sombre expression on her son's face drew a quiet sigh out of her.

 

"Abhiwadanasilissa niccam vuddhapacayino, cattaro dhammavaddhanti, ayu, vanno, sukham, balam." 

 

At the close of the monk's blessing, Kaewta raised his hands, pressing them to his forehead in a gesture of respect. As he rose to stand, the fact that the venerable monk was still there made him wonder.

 

"Layman, if you have time before midday, please come by the temple."

 

"Yes?" Puzzlingly, the boy responded. The concern in the monk's eyes, along with the sigh, caused Chan Pen to cast a glance at her son.

 

"Then I'll prepare offerings for the midday meal for you."

 

After Kaewta and his mother returned inside the house, a gust of chilly wind swept through. The venerable monk paused in his steps, turning to face the White Manor. He said, "You may come and join a conversation with me if you wish, Khun Phra Nai."

 

"A bond of karma follows because of a promise once made."

 

"Pardon?" Chan Pen looked at the monk, unsure of what he meant.

 

"Your son has forged a tie without realising it."

 

"You speak of Kaewta?" She asked again for certainty. At first, Kaewta would like to come with her to offer a noon repast, but due to a headache, she had urged him to rest.

 

"He is being watched over out of possession and affection."

"Watched over...?" Chan Pen still did not understand who the monk was referring to, but it worried her. Since Kaewta was her only child, she cherished him dearly. It sent a shiver down her spine after hearing those words. "Would Kaew be in danger, sir?"

 

"Your son is safe. The one watching him bears no ill will. It's just from the love that has spanned over a great length of time to protect him. But the words your son once said in a past life have bound that soul and kept him from moving on."

 

"To whom, sir?"

"His late destined lover."

 

"What do I need to do, then?"

 

"That depends on whether your son will revoke the words he once spoke or not. Well then, please bring him to see me next time."

 

"Yes, sir." With that, Chan Pen took her leave. Though the venerable monk had said her son was in no peril, which parent would wish for a nonhuman presence shadowing their children?

 

"What is your intention, Khun Luang... no, Your Venerable?" The barely visible, translucent figure of a young man with sorrow-laden eyes inquired.

 

"How long have you been trapped in this snare? I mean, you and your two stalwart retainers who always follow you." The venerable monk asked in return, sipping his tea as he spoke.

 

"I no longer keep count, sir."

"I see. And does this suffer you?"

 

"I have never thought waiting for the one I love could be called suffering."

 

"But it is affliction nonetheless-affliction from love, from hope, from attachment."

 

"Wasn't it you, Your Venerable, who told me that love knows no boundaries, that nothing can bar the heart from loving? Because my love is so deep that I followed after him and have waited all this time!"

 

"If the words I spoke in my past life are what bind you in this cycle of sorrow, then I beg your forgiveness. Let there be an end to your torment."

"No, sir! I have been waiting for too long. Just a little more, and he will remember."

 

"Khun Phra Nai. At present, you and he now dwell in different realms."

 

"And what of that?"

"Cut the bind, please."

 

"No..." The anguished voice cut off the monk's words before he could finish, then dissolved in the air, leaving only emptiness and the old monk to heave a weary sigh.

 

"Then, it must be the mortal in this world to sever the bond himself. I suppose."

 

"What should we do, Master?"

 

".. I have been waiting for so long, Saen, so long that I have lost count. All I have ever wished for is to see him again, to love him, and to seek the requited love from him as I once did."

 

"Indeed, Master. We have been waiting for far too long."

 

"Or should I retreat, Saen? What am I to do?" The tristesse in his voice cut like a knife. Saen looked upon his master's downcast profile and felt nothing but pity. 

 

Khun Yai's sharp gaze remained fixed on the diminutive form below, standing in the garden fronting the manor. Forlorn haze clouded heavily in those eyes. When will the other person finally acknowledge Khun Yai's existence...?

 

"I believe we must find a way to bring Khun Kaew into that chamber."

 

"But..."

 

"If the Venerable Monk truly intends for you to depart like this, I fear our time is running out."

 

"What if Kaewta fails to recall, Saen? Would that not wound me even more?" Despite all endeavours to rekindle his memory through dreams, Kaewta regarded them as nought but idle reveries, vague and swiftly lost.

 

"But the pain would be worse if Khun Yai had to suffer the same regret once more. So why not at least try, Master?"

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"How many days will you be going, Mother?" The boy asked as he helped his mother tuck clothes into a small travel bag.

 

"Just a few days, dear. Mali said we may have to go a bit farther up north."

 

"What a far homage trip." Kaewta teased, thinking his mother might be more interested in the sights than in the prayers.

 

"It's a pity you can't come along."

 

"It wouldn't be good for me to skip several days of classes right at the start of term."

 

"But I worry about you..."

 

"Saen and Nanny Yam are here; you can rest easy. Go on and pay your homage and bring lots of merit back to me." The boy wrapped his arms around his mother's waist, full of love.

 

"Yes, dear." Chan Pen smiled, fondly stroking her son's soft hair. 

 

She didn't tell him what the venerable monk had said. Instead, she'd talked to a close friend at the market, who suggested travelling north to pray and perform a ceremony with a highly revered monk. One part of her was anxious, but knowing Saen and Nanny Yam were around somewhat eased her mind. 

 

"I'll be back soon."

 

Hardly had the sun vanished beyond the horizon, yet the White Manor sank into a darkness so thick one could scarcely see a thing. The small hand groped for the matchbox, then lit a candle, snapping out of his daze in which he had been lost before the blank canvas. When his gaze swept the room, he found it strange indeed that neither Nanny Yam nor Saen had come to summon him to the kitchen, as they always did.

 

Withdrawing from the empty canvas behind, Kaewta picked up his candlestick and headed to his bedroom to find a change of clothes after bathing. He didn't have dinner because he didn't feel like it. The flickering shadows cast by the meagre flame visualised eerie, waving silhouettes. And the silence, which felt heavier than on any other day, sent a tremor of worry through him since it seemed far too quiet tonight.

 

A whiff of rose scent drifted from the fresh garland by his bedside. Kaewta smiled as he silently admired Nanny Yam's diligence in changing the garland every single day without fail. Lighting another candle by the mirror to bring more light to his room, he stopped to study his reflection, and then his smile saddened. Ruedee said he seemed ashen and haggard lately; it appeared to be just as she claimed. A pale hand rubbed over his face as he let out a sigh.

 

At the moment he averted his gaze from the mirror, the corner of his eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow stirring behind the balcony curtain. The boy frowned, thinking he might forget to close the door; the mosquito troop must have invaded him tonight. As he took a step to close it, the boy paused, seeing the hem of violet trousers peeking out from behind the balcony door-a tall, imposing silhouette gazed out from the balcony, tenebrous in the darkness.

 

"Saen?" Kaewta called out, but the figure didn't face him. Instead, that one remained motionless as though his voice hadn't been heard. The boy stepped closer. However, with just a few strides, a forceful gust of wind blew in, snuffing out his candle and blowing the curtains with a harsh flapping. Led by his familiarity, Kaewta peered through the darkness and proceeded to the balcony, but when he swept his gaze, he found no sign of the person he thought he had seen.

 

"Saen?" The boy thought, had his eyes deceived him? "Saen?" he called again, but it turned out that Saen was actually downstairs, right under the balcony.

 

"What are you doing there?" He asked. Saen lifted the storm lantern high. That rugged face was obscured in the murk, despite its size and the lantern's brightness. Without a word, the tall man turned away and walked off.

 

"Saen, wait!" Anxious about Saen's strange behaviour, the boy hurried back inside. He fumbled for matches to light a lantern and rushed out as he descended the stairs in haste. In absolute silence, his footsteps resounded loudly, but it doubled, as if someone were following. He froze midstride as he frowned, turning around, and only emptiness was there.

 

With the icy chill causing his skin to crawl, the boy hesitated over whether he should retreat or press on. What was this feeling? As if he weren't alone...

 

RUSTLE! That footstep seemed to fade further away. Kaewta started to worry about Saen. He decided to keep running down the stairs and glimpsed Saen's broad back disappear behind the White Manor.

 

"Saen!" But on the cusp of his chasing, somebody else's shadow appeared at the edge of his vision.

 

A tall, graceful form dressed in a white shirt and purple loincloth… Kaewta's gaze studied from the long legs to a trimmed waist, a firm chest beneath fine fabric, wide shoulders, a finely tapering chin, and full lips of deep hue, the very same smile from his hazy dreams. His small eyes wandered up to that visage...only for that form to swivel away and walk away. He knew this person!

 

"You! Wait!" Kaewta cried out, launching into a run. He had forgotten about running after Saen. He had forgotten his earlier fear of the darkness within the White Manor.

 

The figure vanished in the direction of the old, chained, and padlocked dance pavilion that Saen had promised to show him when the time was right. Kaewta had no inkling why he couldn't catch up with the other person's slow pace.

 

The boy panted in front of the small, sealed building. The door, which had been securely barred with chains, now showed no sign of them. Instead, it was slightly ajar, as though beckoning him inside. Kaewta pushed it open...That person lived here?

 

'You see, Master? Khun Kaew chose to follow you rather than me.'

 

I wish he could recall you this time...?

But I am afraid, Saen... so afraid...'

 

Though he had intended to wait patiently, letting Kaewta slowly recall and learn to love him again...could he truly wait any longer? If fate conspired to separate them once more? Surely, his heart would break asunder.

 

He must make Kaewta remember him as soon as possible!

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"My lady... My Lady Chui Chai!" A voice called from behind, prompting the one being addressed to roll his eyes heavenward. His small hand curled into a fist, barely stifling his temper.

 

"My lady, it is because of you that the Master-Oof!" The sentence was left dangling as the tall figure abruptly halted. Saen bent backwards to dodge a small fist swinging from the person who suddenly stopped his feet, whirling back to swing a blow.

 

"You still haven't learned, huh?" The sweet, husky voice said through gritted teeth.

Saen cast a sheepish grin as he recoiled two steps back. That black-and-blue mark made it clear: if he dared call the wee boy "Lady" once more, he'd be served a matching bruise on the other eye.

 

"Fine, I won't call you Lady anymore," Saen conceded. Kaewta nodded in satisfaction at the agreement. "But Khun Kaew must go see Khun Yai."

 

"Why should I?!" The small one snapped sharply.

 

"That is, because of you, my Master-Khun Yai is bedridden. It's only right that you visit him."

 

"That was your master's own doing!" The youth refused to give in. To shift the blame to him? In your dreams!

 

"If you hadn't pretended to throw yourself into the lotus pond, would he hold you back and jump into the pond to fetch the very lotus you wanted instead?"

 

"And who asked your master to fetch it?" Unfazed, Kaewta answered as he crossed his arms unapologetically.

 

"True. But he did it for Lady-Er, Khun Kaew. That's why he fell ill. You really should come by to see him, just for a while." Saen didn't give up as well, steadfast in dragging this LadyChui Chai to visit his ailing master.

 

"..I won't go," The sweet, raspy voice muttered a faint refusal before the voice's owner swivelled back and headed to the rehearsal pavilion, leaving Saen scowling at his thwarted endeavour.

 

Kaewta dropped down beside Dok Kaew, who was sitting and doing her hair in front of the mirror. His adorable face winced in a sulky pout, prompting her to ask,

"What's with you? Kaew."

"Nothing"

 

"I've heard that the Khun Phra Nai falls sick."

 

"And what of it?" The mention caused Kaewta to straighten his back like a sinner hearing the Sunday bell.

 

"He had disappeared for some time, then came back for just a few days before falling back into a fever again. Instead of us, we could behold that gorgeous face to bring us cheer, our hearts grew withering again." Several of the girls nearby nodded in agreement with Dok Kaew's lament.

 

"Gorgeous face? If you fancy beholding someone gorgeous, I'm scarcely less than him!" Kaewta's voice was loud with frustration, causing Dok Kaew to throw him an annoyed glare.

 

"Aye, aye, you're gorgeous, too, but not the same kind of Khun Phra Nai's gorgeous. Moreover, we've seen your face since you were no bigger than my palm, while someone like Khun Phra Nai is a rare feast for the eyes. Of course, we're more eager to see him."

 

"SCOFF!"

 

"Or do you envy him?" Dok Kaew elbowed Kaewta teasingly. Those smooth cheeks suddenly blushed red, drawing laughter from the sisters around him. Supposedly, Kaewta's envy of Khun Phra Nai proved true to Dok Kaew's words.

 

"Why should I?" He grumbled under his breath as he thought about the man's illness and...who was the cause of it.

 

As he stepped onto Uncle's property, Kaewta, restless these past few days for reasons even he could not explain, abruptly halted when his eyes landed on a familiar car parked in front of the porch.

 

"Kaew! How are you? Is Mother Payom feeling better?" Luang Sanor peeked out from the porch and greeted him with a question. The youth looked up and raised his hands in a respectful greeting.

 

"She is much improved, Uncle. The fever has gone. Your medicine worked miraculously."

"Good, good. Come on up here."

 

"But..." The boy hesitated. His heart fluttered at the thought of who else was with Luang Sanor upstairs.

 

"I want to lend your ear to a new composition by His Majesty,"

 

There was no excuse left for Kaewta to refuse. For he was gifted as a quick learner who could absorb whatever he heard after a single listening. Thus, whenever new verses or lyrical plays were composed, Luang Sanor would summon him to listen, entrusting him with the task of teaching them to the others in the household.

 

"What is it about this time?"

 

"Shakuntala," Luang Sanor replied, handing the youth a book to read before singing a verse once to guide him.

Soon as thy glance encountered mine,

Thy kingly brilliance burned divine.

Love's potent shaft transfixed my chest;

My heart lay moored in thee to rest.

Thou gleam like heaven's resplendent sire,

Brave soul of war in battle fire.

Thy honeyed speech, a lulling lay,

So sweet, so fresh, can never decay!

No one could comprehend why Luang Sanor had to summon Kaewta to sing in the main house rather than letting him join the piphat ensemble to keep time with the band. Yet the boy just complied, sat still with those lips moving to sing as instructed. He could remain composed and sang without much discomfort at first, but after a while, the stillness he had determined to reserve finally faltered because of a sparkling gaze fixed upon him so intently. Though he continued singing, Kaewta could not keep his eyes from flashing a perturbed look at the onlooker right before him.

 

"Oi! Uncle, I can't sing any longer!" The youth burst out, turning sharply to glare at the young man who was Luang Sanor's company.

 

"What's gotten into you?" Luang Sanor asked, feigning cluelessness as he arched an eyebrow at his protégé. Seeing Kaewta's vexation, the laughter was utterly despite himself.

 

"I'm done singing!" Kaewta declared, springing to his feet and rushing down from the house. Khun Phra Nai lost countenance at the sight, while Luang Sanor burst into hearty laughter and nodded at the man to grant him leave and follow.

 

Kaewta had first intended to slip away to the practice pavilion, but upon realising that he was being pursued, he swiftly changed course, veering off toward home instead. The light footfalls behind him proved that his pursuer had yet to relent. Then, a faint smile played across his lips, the flutter in his chest stirring once more just as it had the moment he had stepped into his uncle's residence. Those narrow eyes glinted mischievous sparks; whatever annoyance he felt before flew away without a trace. 

 

Kaewta sported an imposing tamarind tree by the roadside, one he had often climbed as a child. Hatching a plan, the youth paused to pluck a stray flower, feigning ignorance of his follower's presence. Only when he had put a fair distance between them did he duck away and scramble up the old tamarind to hide, vanishing from sight.

 

The tall pursuer came to a halt, peering left and right, frowning when not a single sign of the wee boy could be found. He sighed, realising he had fallen victim to a jest. The young gentleman crossed his arms and shook his head lightly, a small smile forming on his face, unaware that the one he sought now lay atop a thick branch of the tamarind tree, propped on an elbow, gazing down at him with a grin.

 

From that day on, such an antic kept playing on repeat. Kaewta lounged in the tamarind tree, nibbling on a green pod and snickering quietly at the long face of the man who couldn't catch up with him. Yet today, the tall figure below lingered longer than usual. Kaewta set aside the eat in his hand, poking his face to study the other person's features without revealing himself. 

 

That face was unmarred, and the skin was fair as ivory. Dark, elegant brows framed deep, soulful eyes; full lips balanced a high-bridged nose, ensnaring countless admirers throughout the metropolis. Kaewta wrinkled his own nose behind the other's back. And suddenly, his heart lurched when that flawless face tilted upward, meeting his eyes.

 

"Ah!" Startled, those hands slipped from their hold. The small frame lost balance and tumbled down from the branch, causing the man below's eyes to burst wide in alarm and barely catch him just in time.

 

"Ugh!" Though Kaewta wasn't hurt as badly as he had feared, the impact still knocked the wind out of him. The smaller body straddled the larger one, raven-dark hair cascading loose from its twig fastening, brushing gently against the man's rough cheek. Their noses hovered a mere finger's breadth apart, their lips grazing, their breath mingling, while the solid arms clutched tightly around that narrow waist as though dreading the youth might vanish. The heat from the body caused his heart to hammer within. Kaewta's tapering eyes flung wide; he tried to push himself upright, yet that solid pair of arms refused to let go of his waist so easily.

 

"Let me go!" The sweet voice hissed indignantly, only to find himself drawn close again.

 

"Please don't move yet. I am too hurt to rise," The baritone voice coaxed beside the boy's ear. His honeyed eyes flicked to the younger one's flushed cheeks, stirring a bright shade on the hugged person whose thin shoulders trembled from that act. Though the evening air was gratingly chill at dusk, Kaewta's face burned hot, spreading to the tips of his fingers.

 

"I said, let me go!" Those small eyes gleamed.

 

"How cruel of you. I saved you from a fall and hurt myself for your trouble. Can't you just wait for me to recover?" He asked, though his voice betrayed no actual distress.

 

"You!"

 

"Aye, aye. If you'll let me escort you home, I shall let go." Kaewta scowled at the one beneath in disgust. He leaned in, and the nobleman's heart thudded frantically.

 

"Ouch!!!" The sudden sting in his right shoulder caused Khun Phra Nai to slacken his hold unwittingly, granting the one in his embrace just enough leeway to break free at last. Kaewta swiftly turned his back and strode off, leaving the young man to reckon that the pain he had just felt must have come from the weapon concealed in that small boy's mouth. Such piercing teeth!

 

Kaewta hastened his steps to put distance between them because if he stayed, he feared his heart would leap out of his chest.

 

"What a brazen man!" The delicate mouth muttered, cheeks colouring once more at the thought of their shared moment. He couldn't help wondering what had possessed the man to behave so outrageously. Hearing footsteps closing in, Kaewta feigned a sombre face. He quickly snatched a twig and deftly gathered his awry hair into a bun.

 

One walked away, and the other followed. Neither spoke, only footsteps soft against the ground. The sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon rose skyward instead. The air may chill, but the one behind felt no cold, only the smile full of joy adorning his handsome face. He paused when Kaewta stopped short, gazing toward a nearby pond filled with lotus blossoms. Kaewta approached the pond's edge, removing his shoes as if preparing to wade into the water. A strong hand grasped his slender arm, halting him instantly.

 

"Let me go."

 

"Would you like to fetch the lotus flower?"

The young noble asked, looking upward at the darkening sky.

 

"Leave me alone!"

 

"It's already dark. Wait until tomorrow, please." The man of goodwill didn't let go of that wrist, refusing to comply.

 

"The holy day is tomorrow. Do you think waiting until morning will be on time?" The youth's eyebrows tightened. He yanked his arm free from those large hands before sitting down at the pond's edge, about to dip his toes into the water.

 

SPLASH! No sooner had Kaewta's foot even touched the water's surface than someone had already plunged headlong into the pond. Kaewta's eyes flung wide in shock. He couldn't believe the man would throw himself into the pond where the water was icy cold, not to mention the frigid wind fanning by-had he completely lost his mind?

 

"What are you doing?!"

 

"What on earth are you doing!" He cried, leaping to his feet.

 

"I'm getting the lotus flowers for you!" The nobleman shouted back, floating amidst the blossoms and plucking unopened buds.

 

Kaewta bit his lower lip guiltily. The other person had no idea he'd only pretended his wanting for the lotus flowers just to see how the man would react if he were faking to jump into the pond. Those lotuses? He had already gathered them since the morning, seated securely in a boat with his mother, not swimming around like this.

 

"Enough! No more lotus!"

 

"Is that really enough?" The man raised his eyebrows. Kaewta nodded frantically and took those flowers to himself. The soaking form waded ashore as the evening breeze swept over, sending his pale to shiver, and his teeth to chatter audibly. Still, he kept smiling at the smaller one.

 

"You've seen me far enough; now hurry home, sir." Kaewta's sweet-raspy voice said before whirling on his feet and running away.

 

Kaewta didn't know how the nobleman returned to his own house. Yet, the next morning, Kaewta brought those lotus flowers to the monk. His mother didn't understand why he was using these flowers instead of the ones they had collected yesterday.

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"Kaew."

 

"Yes?" The youth snapped out of his stupor and stood up as Luang Sanor approached.

 

"If you're not going to rehearse, then come along with me."

 

"Where are we off to, sir?" Kaewta took the basket of sweets and the medicine jar from the cook's hands as they followed behind Luang Sanor.

 

"Don't ask. Just come with me."

 

Kaewta climbed into the car, wondering who might be ill enough to require his uncle's visit. Then, he suddenly recalled Dok Kaew's words; Khun Phra Nai had been unwell for two days now. Seated beside the driver, Kaewta turned to Luang Sanor and ventured.

 

"Uncle... may I not go?"

 

"What's with you? We've arrived at His Excellency's residence already."

 

"But..."

 

"Take the medicine jar to Nanny Yam. I shall converse with His Excellency, and then I shall come down."

 

Kaewta nodded, then made his way toward Saen, who stood waiting with a bright grin.

 

"Didn't you say you weren't coming?" Saen teased, taking the jar to himself.

 

"I was forced to!"

 

"Was it? Then, please head up to the house, Khun Kaew. Shall prepare the medicine for Khun Yai myself."

 

Kaewta no longer squabbled. As he made his way up to the house, he found Nanny Yam stringing jasmine garlands. He greeted her with a polite wai.

 

"Bless you, my child." Nanny Yam greeted him with a smile while quietly studying the smooth face of the boy who was young enough to be her son. With utter clarity, she could immediately understand why Khun Phra Nai had been so besotted. Even in sleep, he found no rest; in wakefulness, he could think of no one else. With a face this lovesome, how could one not be smitten?

 

"Uncle will be down soon, sir," Kaewta informed, accepting a rainwater bowl from a young maid and taking a sip. Just then, Saen arrived, carrying a tray of medicine.

 

"Nanny, I'm not sure if the herbal remedy has condensed enough. Could you go have a look at it?" Saen requested

 

"I shall tend to it myself." Nanny Yam set aside her unfinished task and stepped out while exchanging a knowing smile with Saen.

 

"Oh, right. Khun Kaew, could I leave this with you for a moment? I forgot to buy tonic for Nanny Yam." Saen feigned an alarm before placing the medicine tray in front of him and hurried out before Kaewta could protest. The youth could only stare at the steaming bowl, furrowing his brows.

 

...A brewed remedy was unbearably bitter to swallow cold. It ought to be taken while still hot. Leaving it here like this, how was the patient supposed to drink it? The young man sighed before rising to carry the medicine tray into the house, having come to understand that both old and young foxes had thoroughly deceived him. 

 

The sound of coughing came from a room whose door was left open ajar. Kaew hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he ought to enter, when he suddenly started at the sound of a deep, hoarse voice from within.

 

"Saen? Bring me some water." Kaewta pushed the door open. The tall figure, who had once walked him all the way home, now lay there with eyes closed and brows knotted, coughing a few times. Kaewta set the tray on a small table beside the bed, then helped the man sit upright against the headboard before taking up the medicine bowl to offer him a sip.

 

"It's bitter!" The strong hand pushed the bowl away, eyes still closed.

 

"But you must drink it." Khun Phra Nai's eyes flew open in shock, locking onto the boy's face. He stared, unmoving.

 

"Am I dreaming?" His piercing gaze fixated on the comely face before his eyes.

 

"Yes, you're dreaming. Nothing but a fevered dream! Now drink!" Kaewta pressed the bowl against his full lips once again.

 

This time, Khun Phra Nai consented to gulp it without resistance. Though bitter it was, he found himself tasting only sweetness throughout the cave of his mouth at that moment. Goodness, no matter how bitter the medicine, if someone this lovely is feeding it to him, he would swig the entire pot.

 

After adjusting the sick one's lying position, Kaewta prepared to leave. But before he could, a feverish hand grasped his wrist. He turned, only to freeze at the sight of those beseeching eyes.

 

"Could you stay a little longer?"

"...I shall call Nanny Yam."

 

"Can't it be you who stays?"

 

Finally, Kaewta gave in, not wanting to go against the sick one's wish. The youth let the invalid hold his hand until sleep claimed him and saw the man's breathing turning soft and even. Only then did Kaewta carefully slip free. He stood and gathered the empty bowl to tidy away, then the door burst open.

 

"Who are you?" The newcomer stood motionless, scrutinising the petite figure standing in the centre of the room. The face was luminously delicate, with sable hair neatly arranged at the nape with soft tendrils framing the enchanting visage. Those lips were rosy, and the slender eyes were the same dark hue as the beautiful tresses. This sight filled the newcomer with violent displeasure upon seeing that this maiden was in her beloved's chamber.

 

"Uh..."

 

"A man? I've never seen you before. Then why are you in my love's chamber like this!" 

 

Those eyes swept over Kaewta from head to toe before her eyebrow arched upward. The sound of movement from the person upon the bed caused the boy to turn his gaze with concern before snapping back to regard the source of that unwittingly strident outburst.

 

"My purpose here is nothing more than to see to Khun Phra Nai's remedies. He is sleeping; you shouldn't cause such a ruckus." Kaewta's petite shoulders drew themselves upright as he spoke to the figure before him with a stern tone.

 

"You!"

 

"Ah, Sophee," came a voice from behind, making her head turn. She offered Luang Sanor a less-than-satisfied wai.

 

"Khun Luang."

 

"I stopped by to visit Yai. I heard he was too ill to attend his duties, so I was worried." The elderly man cast a glance at the sleeping patient. He motioned Kaewta over. "Is he asleep?" Luang Sanor asked the boy next to him. Kaewta nodded.

"Is that boy one of yours, Khun Luang?"

 

"Oh, yes. Kaew is my ward, as dear to me as my own kin. So you bring the medicine to Khun Phra Nai as per my request?" The last line was a question for the boy. Kaewta nodded again.

 

"Come, let's return home. We'll visit again another day. Oh, and Sophee, it's best to let the patient rest so he may recover quickly. Walk me to my car, won't you?"

 

"But." Sophee hesitated, glancing back at the sleeping figure. It would be wiser to return when he was awake, so she agreed to Luang Sanor's request. Before stepping out, she shot Kaewta a hateful glare, not attempting to hide her peevish air by any means.

 

"Who is that boy?"

 

"One of the performers from Luang Sanor's piphat ensemble," The maidservant beside her replied. Sophee furrowed her delicate brows when suddenly an uneasy feeling came over her, causing her to glance toward the young master's chamber before speaking in a strained voice.

 

"I despise him."

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

A fragrance of potpourri tickled Kaewta's nose, yet beneath it, a foul, decaying smell clung unsettlingly. The white hand lifted higher to push back the shadow as he cautiously stepped inside.

 

"Saen? Hello?" Kaewta called, halting in the centre of the room. A chill seeped into his bones, causing his eyes to dart about. The sensation that he was not alone surged through him, yet he mustered all his bravery to lift the lantern once more and said with a shaky voice.

 

"Is this...my drawing?"

 

A rush of elation coursed through the boy until the memory of Kitti stealing his drawing came crashing in. Why did it end up here? Bringing the lantern closer, the more he looked, the more he was sure that it was his artwork. Though the paper had yellowed with age, it had been carefully preserved in a frame, so its details remained crisp and clear.

His fingers brushed lightly against the surface. A sense of familiarity locked his gaze upon that drawing. His heart insisted that this drawing belonged to the man with the striking face, the owner of those mournful eyes-exactly the same portrait he had drawn!

 

"Saen?" The sound of footsteps distracted the boy from the picture before him. His eyes swept around the room, thinking this must be the rehearsal pavilion that Saen had once spoken of, since there was a wooden xylophone draped in cloth and a fiddle hanging on the wall.

 

'Kaewta. ' The breathy call prompted him to turn sharply. He caught sight of an easel and a narrow rectangular box propped against the wall, amid the murky shadows.

 

"Who's there? Saen?" He asked. A sharp rustling of fabric, mingled with that faint murmur, caused him to recoil. His small shoulders quivered. A frigid chill slid up his spine, raising the hairs on his nape. How could cloth be flapping about when there was no wind?!

 

Kaewta retreated further until his back collided with an object. Startled, he spun around, realising he had backed into the long, white-shrouded box. Kaewta wondered; had he truly stepped back that far? Then, the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of someone standing in another corner, prompting his skin to prickle with dread. His heart drummed as sweat dampened his smooth temples. The first thought that came to mind was that he had to leave this room as soon as possible. In that instant, the white sheet ripped away from the box, flung aside as if wrenched by someone.

 

The lantern illuminated much enough to cast a light upon what lay within because it was a clear-glass coffin! Terrified, Kaewta jerked back, stumbled backwards over his own feet, sending him tumbling to the floor. The solitary light suddenly died, leaving nothing but the pale moonlight filtering weakly through the window. He scrambled backwards, his palms meeting thick dust on the ground, the sharp pain in his wrist making him wince. Yet above all else, it was that which lay within the coffin that struck terror into his very soul!

 

A glass coffin-holding shrivelled corpses! The approaching footsteps echoed through the room. Kaewta could hardly breathe. The shadow in the corner crept closer, slowly...

Kaewta...'

 

That silhouette was calling his name. Terror raided his mind. Dark lips shook uncontrollably. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his hands turned so cold they were numb. He wanted to tear his gaze away from the corpses in that glass coffin, but he couldn't. Worse still, his eyes were drawn inexorably to the two forms entwined in an embrace within.

 

Though the room lay shrouded in gloom, his eyes perceived everything with perfect clarity, as if some unseen light shone through. The figure held in that embrace, on its left ring finger, adorned the carved gold ring that Sean had given to him and insisted it belonged to him. Now it gleamed on the corpse's finger! 

 

Kaewta remembered slipping it into an envelope and handing it to his mother for safekeeping, so how then had it ended up on that lifeless hand? The gold band caught the moonlight, revealing every intricate detail as clearly as if someone held it before his eyes, commanding his gaze. While the holding one wore a white shirt and olive-green loincloth, that struck him with recognition. The man from his drawing! That same man who haunted his very dreams!

 

'Kaewta.'

 

Every hair stood on end as a presence crouched beside him. A chill breeze grazed his cheek, mingling with the scent of dried flowers. Kaewta held his breath, too frightened to look. Tears welled up frenziedly. He was scared!

 

'Kaewta.' An ash-white fingertip outstretched, aiming to touch his arm, yet the small boy trembled to his core.

 

"No!" Kaewta bolted to his feet, summoning every drop of strength to run for his life out of terror.

 

'Kaewta!' That dry, hoarse voice quivered, but fear had overpowered Keawta more than he could care. He meant to lunge for the door, but two feet halted when he rammed the door open. At the threshold stood Saen, face utterly without emotion.

 

"Where are you going, Khun Kaew?"

 

"Saen, help me!" The boy weakly cried for help, yet the figure before him only responded with an icy smile.

 

"What are you afraid of, Khun Kaew? Khun Phra Nai has been waiting for you for so long."

 

Kaewta staggered back. Why hadn't he known better that Saen was so horrifying?

A wretched sob echoed as if suffocating in his wake, tugging at his heartstrings and evoking trembling shoulders. Fearful tears burned down his cheeks, cascading as he fled. A chill wind sliced through, prompting his every hair to prickle on the scalp. The howling of dogs joined the echo of his sobs, resounding along the empty streets.

 

Kaewta did not know the source of his strength. He ran, ran at the fastest he could get out of White Manor, where the young nobleman was weeping as if his anguish would wring the very life out of him in the same rehearsal room, leaving the dark and hollow white dwelling behind.

 

'Kaewta, don't go!'

Is your love for me truly gone?'

 

'Kaewta!'

Kaew...'

 

All those resentful words spoke out, calling that name to turn around.....Or would his heart be shattered into shards once more?

 

The slight figure dashed away into the darkness, yet no strength left in him to call the boy back. Kaewta's frightened eyes and those words of rejection felt like a knife plunged into his chest. A harrowing wail broke the silence, resonating in the blackest night... and thus, the White Manor fell once more under that oppressive gloom of days gone by.

Far away....

 

He who fled collapsed into the plush seat of a sumptuous car. The mournful cry he heard drove him to tears. His pale arms hugged his own trembling shoulders tightly. The bawling sounded as though a heart was ripped out despite beating...