Beneath the canopy of a large tree, hidden from the prying eyes of the world, Phiengwad and La-Orchan sat side by side, their hearts still heavy from the confrontation with La-Orduen. La-Orchan gazed at Phiengwad with deep concern, her delicate hand reaching out to gently touch the faint red mark on Phiengwad's cheek, left by La-Orduen's anger.
"Does it hurt much?" La-Orchan asked, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes.
Phiengwad took La-Orchan's hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It doesn't hurt, my dear. I'm fine," she said with a gentle smile.
La-Orchan pressed her lips together tightly, guilt gnawing at her for being the cause of Phiengwad's pain. But what she feared most was that her sister would reveal their secret to their father.
"What will we do if P'La-Orduen tells my Father about us?" she asked in a soft, shaky voice.
Phiengwad pulled La-Orchan into her embrace, stroking her hair soothingly.
"Don't worry, La-Orchan. I will protect you. If such a thing happens, tell everyone that it was only I who harbored feelings for you and that you never reciprocated. This way, you won't face any gossip or condemnation from the townsfolk, and La-Orduen will have no proof to support her claims."
La-Orchan rested her tear-streaked face on Phiengwad's shoulder. "How could I ever say that?" she sobbed. "I could never abandon you, P'Phiengwad."
Phiengwad gently lifted La-Orchan's face, her heart swelling with gratitude. She looked deeply into her beloved's tear-filled eyes and softly brushed away her tears with her fingertips. Leaning forward, she pressed a tender kiss on La-Orchan's forehead.
"But I don't want you to suffer because of me,"
Phiengwad said softly.
"If one of us faces trouble, how could the other stand by and do nothing? I couldn't live with myself if I did that," La-Orchan replied firmly.
Phiengwad felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude, but her worry for their predicament still loomed large. She was determined to find a solution to their plight.
"When Sir Det-Wijit returns to the home, I'll seek his counsel," Phiengwad said resolutely. "He once helped convince my father when my father wanted me to be engaged to the son of a nobleman. I'm sure my brother will help me again this time."
She paused, her voice tinged with guilt. "I'm so sorry, La-Orchan, for putting you in this difficult situation. It's my fault. I shouldn't have used La-Orduen as a way to be close to you. I should have been brave enough from the beginning to be honest about my feelings for you alone."
Phiengwad's voice was heavy with regret, her gaze never leaving La-Orchan, who tightened her grip on her lover's hand, silently vowing to stand by her side no matter the storm ahead.
La-Orchan was rendered speechless, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"From now on, no matter what happens, I won't let you face sorrow alone," Phiengwad whispered softly into La-Orchan's ear. "We'll hold each other's hands and overcome these obstacles together."
La-Orchan gave a faint nod, her once-trembling heart gradually finding peace within Phiengwad's embrace. The two held each other tightly, drawing strength from their love—a love that they knew would propel them through any trials that lay ahead.
"For now, I think it's best if we communicate through letters," Phiengwad suggested gently.
La-Orchan nodded again, agreeing to the plan. Though her heart remained heavy with worry, the reassurance in Phiengwad's voice brought her a sense of comfort and hope.
…
That night, La-Orduen sat silently in her bedroom, her gaze drifting out the window as if her spirit had wandered far away.
Saibua, her loyal servant, watched her mistress with growing concern. Everything in the household had begun to change, and the bond between the sisters had only grown worse. Saibua knew all too well that La-Orduen was determined to inform Lord Noradit, her father, about the improper relationship between Phiengwad and La-Orchan.
Hoping to prevent the situation from escalating further, Saibua hesitantly spoke, "Are you truly planning to tell Lord Noradit about Lady La-Orchan and Lady Phiengwad, My Lady?"
La-Orduen sat in silence for a moment before replying coldly, "And why should I stay silent? If I can't have what I want, then La-Orchan shouldn't either."
Saibua let out a heavy sigh, unable to bear seeing her mistress consumed by jealousy and hatred any longer.
"You're sisters, My Lady. Why—"
Before she could finish, La-Orduen interrupted sharply, "Because she's my sister, that's why! That's exactly why I can't let this go! You'll never understand, Saibua."
La-Orduen's voice echoed through the room, filled with anger.
Saibua looked at her mistress with conflicted emotions. On one hand, she sympathized with Phiengwad and La-Orchan, whose love was being torn apart by impossible circumstances. On the other hand, she couldn't bear to see La-Orduen, the mistress she deeply respected, fall further into the trap of her own bitterness.
"I understand your pain, My Lady,"
Saibua said softly, her tone tinged with sorrow.
"But if Lady La-Orchan and Lady Phiengwad truly love each other, why must you continue to love someone who doesn't love you back? If love is like a thorn, why must we grip it so tightly that it pierces our own hands?"
Saibua's words were like oil poured onto a blazing fire.
La-Orduen trembled with rage, her fury palpable.
"Whose servant are you, Saibua?"
she snapped, pointing a trembling finger.
"Who here has ever cared about me? Phiengwad used me as a stepping stone to get to La-Orchan! And La-Orchan—she knew! She knew how I felt about P'Phiengwad, and yet she dared to swear an oath to me! Look at what she's done now! Her nature—since birth—is to take everything that should rightfully belong to me! Tell me, Saibua, if it were you, could you forgive that?"
La-Orduen's voice was thick with bitterness and resentment, silencing Saibua entirely. The loyal servant could only bow her head, unable to meet her mistress's blazing gaze.
"From this moment on, La-Orchan, my treacherous twin, will never take anything from me again!" La-Orduen declared, her voice filled with icy determination.
This time, she would ensure that their father saw the disgraceful truth with his own eyes. She would expose La-Orchan—the beloved daughter of Lord Noradit—and show just how deeply her actions had shamed their family.
…
For Phiengwad, the past three days felt agonizingly slow. Her only means of communication with La-Orchan, the woman she loved, had been through letters exchanged via their loyal servants.
Today was yet another day she anxiously awaited a letter from La-Orchan. Finally, the much-anticipated correspondence arrived. With a flutter of excitement mixed with unease, Phiengwad unfolded the letter.
The letter, concise yet urgent, read:
"There is something important we must discuss immediately. Please come to my house tomorrow night."
.
Phiengwad's heart quickened. Unease crept into her thoughts, worrying that La-Orduen might be plotting something against her beloved.
Breaking her train of thought, Gulab, her ever-loyal servant, spoke hesitantly.
"This time is strange, my lady. Saiyood didn't deliver the letter herself. Instead, she sent it through another servant."
Phiengwad frowned, turning to Gulab with a spark of concern in her eyes.
"What do you mean, Gulab?"
"Normally, Saiyood delivers these letters directly to me," Gulab explained, her tone filled with uncertainty. "But this time, she had someone else bring it instead."
Phiengwad studied the letter again, her eyes lingering on the familiar handwriting. There was no mistaking it—it was La-Orchan's handwriting.
"But this is La-Orchan's hand," Phiengwad murmured to herself, her fingers brushing over the parchment. "She must have a pressing matter, perhaps something urgent enough to warrant this change."
Despite her attempt to quell her unease, a persistent sense of foreboding loomed in the back of her mind. Something didn't feel right.
Determined yet cautious, Phiengwad decided she would meet La-Orchan as requested. However, she couldn't shake the growing suspicion that this encounter might not be as straightforward as it seemed. Steeling herself, she began to prepare—not just for the meeting, but for any unexpected twists that might lie ahead.
…
In the still of the night, under the shadow of silence, Phiengwad, dressed as an Ayutthayan gentleman, stealthily climbed up to the chambers of Lady La-Orchan, the daughter of Lord Noradit.
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation upon seeing her beloved sitting at her desk, scribbling away, her posture drooping with drowsiness. Phiengwad found the sight endearing and quietly slipped her arms around La-Orchan's waist from behind, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek with all the love and longing in her heart.
"I missed you so much," Phiengwad whispered with a sweet smile.
La-Orchan gasped in surprise and turned around, her eyes widening at the sight of her lover.
"P'Phiengwad! How did you get here?"
Phiengwad frowned slightly. "But didn't you call me here yourself?" she replied, holding out the letter she had received.
La-Orchan took the letter, opened it, and her expression paled.
"I didn't write this," she said, her voice trembling. "The handwriting looks like mine, but I swear I didn't write it. Where did you get this letter, P'Phiengwad?"
"A servant from your household delivered it to Gulab, who then brought it to me," Phiengwad explained.
As the pieces began to fall into place, Phiengwad's face turned ashen. A chilling sense of danger crept over her. She quickly regained her composure and moved to flee from her lover's chamber, but before she could act, the door was flung open with a forceful bang.
.
.
"What are you two doing?!"
The thunderous voice reverberated through the room, freezing both La-Orchan and Phiengwad in place. Standing in the doorway was Lord Noradit himself, his towering figure radiating an aura of menace. His piercing eyes, sharp with fury, took in the scene before him: two women alone in a chamber late at night—one dressed as an Ayutthaya man, clearly in disguise, and the other a disheveled noblewoman.
Lord Noradit clenched his fists tightly, his anger palpable. Without hesitation, he stormed forward and yanked his younger daughter away from the intruder.
"La-Orchan!"
La-Orchan struggled against her father's grip, her resistance fierce.
"Please, Let her go!" Phiengwad cried out, moving to help her beloved.
But Lord Noradit raised his cane and pointed it directly at Phiengwad, his fiery gaze halting her in her tracks.
Phiengwad froze, rendered silent by the unspoken warning in the old man's eyes: Do not come any closer.
In that moment, it felt as though time stood still. The air grew heavy with tension, suffocating all who were present.
Amidst the chaos, La-Orduen stood at a distance, watching the scene unfold with a smug, satisfied smile.
.
.
In the grand hall of Lord Noradit's traditional Thai house, the tension was so thick it seemed to weigh down the air, threatening to shatter everything within its grasp. All the servants had been dismissed, leaving only Lord Noradit standing tall in the center of the room. Before him knelt Phiengwad and La-Orchan, their heads bowed low. Meanwhile, La-Orduen sat quietly on a bench, her expression unreadable.
"La-Orchan! Phiengwad! What have you two done?"
Lord Noradit's voice boomed, echoing throughout the room. His fury engulfed the space like a storm.
"A romantic relationship between two women? It is disgraceful! Utterly shameful!"
Phiengwad quickly crawled forward on her knees, her hands pressed together in a respectful wai.
"Please forgive La-Orchan, my lord," she pleaded earnestly. "The fault is entirely mine. I am the one who harbored feelings for La-Orchan and pursued her. She has no affection for me whatsoever."
Tears brimmed in La-Orchan's eyes, but her resolve remained unshaken. She refused to let Phiengwad shoulder the blame alone.
"That's not true, Father," she interjected, her voice trembling. "The fault lies with me alone. I am the one who loves P'Phiengwad. Please punish me, and me alone."
Lord Noradit glared at the two women, his patience worn thin.
"Enough! I don't want to hear another word," he roared. His hand, gripping his cane tightly, trembled with rage. Turning to La-Orchan, he spat out his words.
"La-Orchan! You... you ungrateful child! I have loved and cared for you, provided you with everything you could ever need. And this is how you repay me? By bringing disgrace to our family? Have you no shame before our ancestors?"
After reprimanding La-Orchan, Lord Noradit turned his sharp gaze to Phiengwad, his eyes burning with anger.
"And you, Phiengwad! You are the daughter of Lord Krai. How dare you commit such a vile act? Have you no shame before the heavens and the earth? If not for the fact that you are a woman…"
He paused briefly, his breath heavy as he struggled to contain his fury. His voice, though quieter now, still carried the weight of his wrath.
"If not for the fact that you are a woman and the daughter of Lord Krai, I would have punished you severely. But because of your gender and your status, I will not harm you. However, I do not wish to see your face again. Still, it would be too dangerous to send you away from my house in the dead of night."
His fist clenched tightly, his breathing heavy with rage.
"Therefore, when the sun rises, you and your servant must leave this house at once and return to your father. I will inform Lord Krai of his daughter's disgraceful behavior myself!"
With those final words, Lord Noradit turned to leave. But before he could step away, La-Orchan lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his legs, tears streaming down her face.
"No, Father, please!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "I beg you, don't do this! Please don't tell Lord Krai."
She clung to him desperately, her sobs filling the room as she pleaded for mercy.
Lord Noradit forcefully wrenched his leg free from his daughter's desperate grasp, shoving her slender shoulders away in a fit of wrath.
Phiengwad hurried forward, her steps quick and steady, catching La-Orchan just in time before she could collapse onto the floor. The tenderness in Phiengwad's touch as she held her beloved was a stark contrast to the chaos in the room.
Meanwhile, La-Orduen stood to the side, her expression calm, her gaze detached. She observed the scene as though it were nothing more than a theatrical play unfolding before her eyes. Yet, deep within, her heart swelled with triumph.
The letter? She had forged it herself.
The revelation to their father about the forbidden love between Phiengwad and La-Orchan? It had come from her own lips.
And Lord Noradit witnessing their intimacy with his very own eyes? That, too, was her doing—her carefully orchestrated plan brought to life.
Everything had gone exactly as La-Orduen had meticulously planned, without a single misstep.
But for her, this was far from enough. Merely exposing their secret wasn't sufficient to satisfy her vengeance. No, she intended to drive an irreversible wedge between them, to ensure that La-Orchan and Phiengwad could never be together.
She envisioned Phiengwad's anguish as she watched the woman she loved being paired with another man, forced into marriage, and living a life together with someone else.
La-Orduen vowed to make sure they would never find happiness together. Not now. Not ever. For the rest of their lives.
…
Hojicha Writer
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