As Chak walked toward the door, I reached out and grabbed his hand one last time.
I just needed to feel his touch again.
He stopped.
For a brief moment, the entire room seemed to fall silent. Chak turned his head and looked at me. In his eyes I saw something I knew too well — the same feeling that was inside my own chest.
He didn't want to be here.
He wanted to be somewhere else.
Somewhere quiet. Somewhere far away from cameras, reporters, power, expectations… and everything waiting outside that door.
Just like me.
Chak stepped closer and gently squeezed my hand before leaning down.
His lips brushed against mine in a brief, soft kiss.
" I love you, Artist," he whispered.
The nickname only he used.
I swallowed, holding his gaze for a second longer before slowly letting go of his hand.
Then I stepped back and moved beside Kit and Taeng.
Chak stood still for a moment.
Then his eyes shifted.
To Anamarija.
He walked toward her without saying a word and wrapped his arms around her in a firm embrace.
It was the first time I noticed it clearly.
Fear.
Just for a moment, it was there in her eyes.
Not weakness.
Not hesitation.
Just the quiet fear of someone who knew exactly what kind of battlefield waited outside.
Chak seemed to see it too. His hand rested briefly on the back of her head before he stepped back again.
Then he looked at all of us one more time.
Like he was memorizing the moment.
Without another word, he turned and walked out the door.
The sound of it closing echoed softly through the room.
Rattan checked his watch.
"In five minutes, you will leave," he said calmly.
Then his gaze shifted toward Anamarija.
"Mr. Suraphom will be watching over you today."
Anamarija lifted an eyebrow slightly.
"He knows you better than anyone," Rattan continued. "And he told me that if he notices you are not feeling well… he has something prepared for you."
Anamarija tilted her head slightly.
"And what exactly is that?"
Rattan gave a small, polite shrug.
"I don't know," he replied honestly.
"He didn't tell me."
The room fell quiet again.
And suddenly those five minutes felt much shorter than they should have been.
Five minutes passed faster than any of us expected.
Rattan opened the door again and gave us a small nod.
"It's time."
None of us spoke. We simply followed him into the hallway.
The soft pastel decorations looked almost unreal after everything that had just happened. Pale flowers lined the walls, elegant arrangements placed carefully on marble tables. The entire place looked like it had been designed for a fairytale.
But we were all dressed in black.
And somehow that contrast felt louder than anything else.
As we approached the large doors leading to the main hall, I felt my heartbeat quicken.
Rattan stopped and gently pushed the doors open.
The moment we stepped inside, the entire hall seemed to freeze.
Hundreds of eyes turned toward us at once.
Conversations stopped mid-sentence.
Glasses paused halfway to lips.
For a second, the only sound in the room was the soft echo of our footsteps on the polished floor.
Then the whispering began.
Quiet at first.
Then spreading like a wave.
"Is that her?"
"She actually came…"
"Why are they dressed in black?"
"Isn't the wedding theme pastel?"
"They look like they're attending a funeral…"
I felt the tension immediately.
Before the whispers could grow louder, Kit moved first.
Without saying a word, he stepped slightly in front of Anamarija.
Taeng followed on her other side.
Non moved behind her.
Pim and Amara closed the space beside her.
Within seconds, they formed a quiet circle around her — natural, effortless, protective.
Like bodyguards.
Just like she had joked earlier in the van.
But this time, it wasn't a joke.
Anamarija didn't slow down.
Her posture remained straight, her expression calm and unreadable as she walked forward through the sea of watching eyes.
If the whispers reached her…
She didn't show it.
But I walked close enough to notice something small.
Her fingers tightened slightly at her side.
I stepped a little closer.
Just in case.
At the far end of the hall, near the decorated stage, I finally saw her.
Chak's mother.
Standing among the guests.
Watching us.
And the moment her eyes landed on Anamarija…
Her expression changed.
The whispers followed us as we moved deeper into the hall.
I could feel the weight of every stare, every quiet judgment floating through the room. But the circle around Anamarija didn't break.
Then Kit leaned slightly closer to her.
"You should go greet them," he said quietly.
Anamarija nodded, but for the first time her confidence cracked just a little.
"I know," she replied softly. "I'm just… a little scared."
Taeng immediately stepped closer on her other side.
"We'll be right next to you," he said reassuringly.
Before she could answer, I reached for her hand.
Her fingers were slightly cold when I wrapped mine around them.
"You're not alone," I told her gently.
She looked at me for a second, and I saw the tension in her shoulders ease just a little.
Then we all started walking together.
Step by step, the circle moved through the crowd, the whispers growing louder behind us.
Everyone knew exactly where we were going.
Chak's mother was standing near the front of the hall, surrounded by several important guests. Her posture was elegant and perfectly composed, like nothing could disturb her.
But the moment we stopped in front of her, her sharp eyes focused entirely on Anamarija.
For a few seconds she simply studied her.
Then she spoke.
"I didn't think you would actually come."
Her gaze slowly moved across all of us before stopping on our clothes.
"And why," she added coolly, "are you all dressed in black? The theme is pastel."
Anamarija didn't look away.
"That was my idea."
A small, knowing smile appeared on Chak's mother's lips.
"I assumed as much."
The room around us seemed to grow even quieter.
Anamarija lifted her chin slightly.
"We're wearing black," she said calmly and confidently, "because we do not support this wedding."
A few shocked whispers rose from the nearby guests.
Chak's mother raised an eyebrow.
"And why not?" she asked.
Anamarija's voice remained steady.
"We have our reasons."
For a moment, Chak's mother simply looked at her.
The polite smile on her face didn't disappear, but something colder appeared behind her eyes.
"Reasons," she repeated slowly.
Her gaze moved from Anamarija to the rest of us standing around her.
"So all of you came here… dressed like this… just to make a statement?"
No one moved.
No one stepped back.
Anamarija's voice stayed calm.
"We came because we were invited."
A few people nearby shifted uncomfortably. The whispers around us grew louder again.
Chak's mother let out a soft breath through her nose.
"How thoughtful of you," she said dryly.
Then she leaned slightly closer to Anamarija.
"You do realize this is an important day for our family."
Anamarija didn't look away.
"Yes," she answered.
"And yet you chose to turn it into a spectacle."
Before Anamarija could answer, Non spoke quietly behind her.
"Pretty sure the spectacle started before we even arrived."
Taeng coughed softly, clearly trying not to laugh.
Chak's mother's eyes briefly flicked toward him, but she ignored the comment.
Instead, she returned her attention to Anamarija.
"You're very bold for someone who has only recently appeared in this family."
The tension around us tightened instantly.
I felt Anamarija's hand shift slightly in mine, but she didn't pull away.
Instead, she stepped half a step forward.
"Maybe," she said.
"But that doesn't make me wrong."
The woman studied her again.
Longer this time.
As if she was measuring something.
Then, slowly, a small smile appeared.
"Well," Chak's mother said calmly, straightening her posture again.
"If you came all this way…"
Her eyes briefly flicked toward the large doors at the end of the hall.
"…you might as well stay and watch."
Another wave of whispers rolled through the guests.
Because everyone in the room understood one thing.
This wasn't just a wedding anymore.
It was a confrontation.
And it had only just begun.
The whispers around us hadn't died down when another voice suddenly cut through the crowd.
"Well, well."
Slow, amused.
We all turned toward the sound.
A tall man stepped forward from the group of guests standing near Chak's mother.
Phalin's father.
His smile was polite, but there was something sharp behind it.
"So this must be the famous half-sister," he said, looking her up and down as if he were inspecting something at an auction.
The circle around her tightened instantly.
Kit crossed his arms.
Taeng shifted slightly closer.
But Anamarija didn't move.
Phalin's father tilted his head.
"I have to say," he continued, loud enough for many of the nearby guests to hear, "I was quite curious about you."
His eyes drifted toward Chak's mother for a moment before returning to Anamarija.
"The mysterious daughter who appeared out of nowhere."
A few uncomfortable laughs came from the crowd.
"And today," he added, "you arrive dressed in black at a wedding you claim not to support."
He let out a small chuckle.
"That takes a certain level of… confidence."
The insult hung in the air.
I felt Anamarija's hand tense in mine, but she didn't step back.
Phalin's father took another slow step closer.
"Tell me something," he said, lowering his voice slightly but still making sure others could hear.
"Do you always attend events where you're clearly not wanted?"
Non let out a quiet scoff behind us.
But before anyone else could speak, Anamarija did.
Calm.
Steady.
"I was invited."
Phalin's father smiled wider.
"Yes," he said lightly.
"I suppose technically you were."
His gaze hardened slightly.
"But invitations can be… mistakes."
That was when Kit stepped forward half a step.
Taeng moved with him.
The protective circle around Anamarija tightened again.
But she gently squeezed my hand once and stepped forward herself.
Her eyes met Phalin's father's directly.
"You're trying very hard to embarrass me," she said calmly.
The room went quiet again.
Phalin's father raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Anamarija tilted her head slightly.
"But the problem is…"
Her voice stayed perfectly composed.
"…you're the only one here who thinks this is embarrassing."
A ripple moved through the guests.
Some surprised.
Some impressed.
Phalin's father's smile froze for just a moment.
And for the first time since the conversation started—
he didn't immediately have a response.