Chapter 11: Please?

The late morning sunlight streamed down onto the elegant Thai-style house of Lord Noradit. The cheerful chirping of birds echoed from the backyard garden. Lady Phiengwad, daughter of Lord Krai, gracefully entered the house, her movements poised and elegant. Her face was lightly adorned with makeup, yet her beauty remained strikingly captivating.

Four servants followed Phiengwad, carrying a large chest into the room. They placed it in front of the two renowned twin beauties of the capital.

“My father and brother just returned from their duties at the royal court. They brought back an assortment of fine silk and exquisite sarongs. I thought they would suit La-Orduen and La-Orchan perfectly, so I decided to bring them here for you both to choose from,” Phiengwad said, her voice sweet and warm, her smile soft and radiant. Yet, the mischievous glint in her eyes was unmistakable as her gaze lingered on La-Orchan a moment longer than necessary.

The smile held a subtle, private meaning that only the two of them understood. La-Orchan caught the hidden message in those sparkling eyes and that playful smile. It was as if Phiengwad’s gaze silently conveyed, “We belong to each other,” a sentiment meant for La-Orchan alone.

A faint blush crept onto La-Orchan’s cheeks. Just at dawn, Phiengwad had discreetly slipped out of her room, and now, only a few hours later, she was here standing before her once again.

As the four servants opened the large chest, revealing an array of vibrant and luxurious silks, La-Orchan reluctantly tore her eyes away from her sly and enchanting elder to focus on the stunning fabrics before her.

“I truly thank you, P'Phiengwad,”

La-Orduen said with a sweet smile. Yet, the warmth in her expression faded as she noticed Phiengwad’s unwavering gaze fixed on La-Orchan, who kept her head bowed. A flicker of displeasure crossed La-Orduen’s lovely face before she quickly replaced it with her usual gentle smile.

“The fabrics in this chest are all exquisite,” La-Orduen remarked sweetly, then deliberately turned to ask her younger twin, “Which fabric does La-Orchan like best?”

“I like this one,” La-Orchan replied softly.

“It seems we share the same taste,” La-Orduen responded immediately. Though her lips curved into a sweet smile, there was a chilling undertone to her words, subtly laced with hidden intent.

“But no matter how beautiful that fabric may be, if La-Orchan likes the same one as I do, this elder sister is always willing to let you have it. After all, if it were La-Orchan, you would do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

Her words struck like a reminder of the vow made on that fateful night.

“Yes, of course,” La-Orchan replied in a soft, almost inaudible voice. She had never forgotten that vow—yet now, she had broken it.

Guilt surged within her chest.

La-Orchan tried to mask her feelings with a faint smile, but her eyes betrayed the pain eating away at her heart. She had betrayed her elder twin. She had betrayed the sacred promise she had made before the holy statue.

If the bitterness consuming her now was her punishment,

then La-Orchan resolved to accept it willingly, letting the guilt of her broken vow gnaw at her soul until nothing remained.

…

Inside Phiengwad’s bedroom, her graceful figure sat at an antique vanity adorned with intricate carvings. A sweet smile graced her delicate face, her eyes shining with anticipation and longing. Yet, behind her, Gulab, her devoted maid, watched her mistress with concern, unable to ignore the unusually joyful demeanor Phiengwad displayed.

“Gulab, do you think La-Orchan will like the fabric I brought her?” Phiengwad asked, her gaze fixed on her reflection in the mirror. Her hand, mid-stroke with the comb, paused as hope sparkled in her eyes.

“Anything from you, my lady, will surely please her,” Gulab replied.

Phiengwad’s smile widened, her happiness radiating so brightly that it seemed impossible to contain. Just the thought of La-Orchan’s face brought an overwhelming joy to her heart.

But Gulab couldn’t share in her mistress’s happiness entirely. A deep worry gnawed at her as she recalled the risks Phiengwad had taken. “But, my lady, sneaking into La-Orchan’s house disguised as a man in the dead of night… If your parents or Lord Noradit find out…” Gulab’s voice wavered with fear as she imagined the fury of Phiengwad’s parents, especially Lord Noradit, La-Orchan’s father.

“Then don’t let them find out. You’re the only one who knows about this,” Phiengwad replied sharply, though a hint of unease slipped into her tone.

“But, my lady, two women…”

Gulab hesitated, wanting to warn her mistress of the impropriety of such a relationship—something society would never accept. However, as she looked at Phiengwad’s smiling face, so full of genuine happiness, and the joy shining in her eyes, Gulab’s resolve softened. She could only manage a meek caution.

“A relationship between two women… a forbidden love like this… it’s so dangerous, my lady,” she said quietly.

Phiengwad turned to look at her loyal maid, Gulab, noticing the deep concern reflected in her eyes. Yet, Phiengwad’s resolve remained unwavering.

“Gulab, you don’t need to worry about me. I know exactly what I’m doing. Even if everyone says my love for La-Orchan is impossible, I’ll find a way to make it possible,” Phiengwad declared, her voice firm and resolute.

Gulab could only gaze at her mistress, her eyes filled with worry. At this moment, her beloved Phiengwad seemed like someone completely consumed by love, so deeply that Gulab couldn’t tell if her mistress was still aware of the harsh realities of the world. And if Phiengwad was aware, then she was surely brave enough to defy the age-old traditions of society without fear.

Gulab could only hope that her mistress possessed the strength to overcome the obstacles ahead. But when she thought of La-Orchan, the daughter of Lord Noradit, a man renowned for his strict adherence to rules and traditions, Gulab couldn’t predict how this story would unfold.

She could only pray that Phiengwad wouldn’t lose herself entirely in this whirlwind of love, forgetting the harsh truths that might snatch away her slender hope. Yet, Phiengwad’s sudden voice pulled Gulab out of her thoughts.

“Gulab, is something troubling you?” Phiengwad asked, her tone gentle and laced with concern.

Gulab offered a faint smile and shook her head.

“It’s nothing, my lady,” she replied, though her heart remained heavy with worry. She knew she couldn’t say anything more and could only pray silently, hoping that her mistress’s love would find its fulfillment.

“In that case, this afternoon, go and invite Uncle Thongyoo to my house,” Phiengwad instructed Khulab.

“Uncle Thongyoo?” Khulab asked, her tone laced with curiosity. “May I ask why you wish to invite him, my lady?”

Thongyoo, the master goldsmith renowned for his exceptional craftsmanship in the capital, was a close confidant of Phiengwad’s father, Lord Krai.

“I intend to commission him to craft three gold rings,” Phiengwad replied, her lips curling into a sweet smile. “One of the rings will be a token of my affection for La-Orchan, and I’ll design it myself. The other two will be for me and La-Orduen.”

.

.

Within the traditional Ayutthaya-style Thai house of Lord Noradit, the atmosphere during dinner was steeped in silence. It was customary for Lord Noradit, the father, to utter no more than ten words to his twin daughters. Since the loss of his wife, he had become a stern and solemn figure, firmly adhering to rules and discipline. The warmth of this household paled in comparison to that of Lord Phra Ya-Krai's home.

La-Orchan sat fidgeting at the dining table, avoiding La-Orduen’s gaze the entire time. Ever since Phiengwad had delivered silk and sarongs to their home, La-Orchan had been plagued with unease. As soon as dinner was barely halfway through, she excused herself, rising abruptly as if to escape something—or someone.

La-Orduen immediately followed her.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell? You’ve been acting so peculiar,” she asked, her sharp eyes filled with suspicion, as though seeking to uncover a hidden truth.

“N-no, not at all,”

La-Orchan stammered, her voice trembling. Despite her efforts to conceal her feelings, her nervous demeanor was impossible to hide from her sister’s piercing gaze.

La-Orduen’s brows furrowed deeply. Distrust mingled with her concern, and an inkling of irritation began to brew within her. She felt as though she had been cast as the obstacle standing in the way of whatever bond was growing between Phiengwad and La-Orchan.

“If you’re unwell, just say so. I’ll have Saibua bring you some medicine,” La-Orduen offered.

“I’m fine, truly,” La-Orchan replied hastily, though her eyes refused to meet her sister’s. Her evasive gaze only deepened La-Orduen’s doubts.

“If you say so,” La-Orduen replied, her voice now colder. She paused before continuing, her words laden with subtle weight.

“After all, you’re my only sister... Without you, La-Orchan, there’s no one else I could ever trust.”

La-Orduen’s words cut through La-Orchan’s heart like a blade, leaving her pale and shaken. The weight of her betrayal toward her elder twin sister pressed heavily on her chest, filling her with an unbearable sense of guilt.

“I’ll excuse myself to rest now,”

La-Orchan murmured softly, her voice barely audible, before quickly retreating from her sister.

Once inside her bedroom, she shut the door behind her and collapsed onto the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she brought a trembling hand to her mouth, desperately trying to stifle the sobs she didn’t want anyone to hear.

The crushing weight of guilt shattered her heart. Torn between the love she held for Phiengwad and the bond she shared with La-Orduen, her twin sister, La-Orchan felt utterly lost, unable to see a way forward.

.

.

That night, La-Orchan found herself unable to sleep. The guilt she felt toward La-Orduen weighed heavily on her heart. She lay in bed, restless, her eyes fixed on the moonlight streaming through the window.

Suddenly, the moonlight illuminated the shadow of a woman quietly sneaking in through the window. Alarmed, La-Orchan quickly sat up. But as soon as she saw the face of the visitor, glowing softly in the moonlight, she let out a sigh of relief—it was Phiengwad, her beloved.

Phiengwad greeted her with a sweet smile, her beautiful eyes shimmering with joy at seeing her love again. Although she had snuck into La-Orchan’s room just the night before and had delivered fine silk and sarongs earlier that day, by nightfall, Phiengwad’s yearning grew too strong to resist. She had climbed up to the room once more.

Without hesitation, Phiengwad rushed forward and embraced La-Orchan tightly, her longing spilling over into words she could no longer hold back.

“I missed you so much, La-Orchan,” she whispered softly, pulling her love closer with an embrace filled with tenderness and desire.

La-Orchan’s heart raced at the sweet words from her lover. Phiengwad nestled her face into the crook of La-Orchan’s neck, breathing in her fragrance with satisfaction before gently cupping her face and planting a soft kiss on her smooth cheek.

“La-Orchan, don’t you miss me too?” Phiengwad asked in a tender voice.

La-Orchan’s cheeks turned crimson as she lowered her gaze in shy silence, unable to answer.

“Or are you too shy to say it out loud?” Phiengwad teased, causing La-Orchan to playfully nudge her in embarrassment. Phiengwad laughed in delight before kissing her cheek again and again, enjoying her lover’s bashfulness.

“If you don’t admit you’ve missed me, I’ll keep kissing your cheeks like this,” Phiengwad warned playfully. She proceeded to alternate kisses on both of La-Orchan’s cheeks, relentless in her teasing until La-Orchan finally gave in.

“I missed you too, P’Phiengwad,” La-Orchan whispered softly, her voice barely audible.

“Ah, your sweet words soothe my heart like nothing else,” Phiengwad replied, wrapping her arms around La-Orchan in a warm embrace before sauntering over to the bed and collapsing onto its soft surface with a contented sigh.

“I really don’t like having to dress like a man,” Phiengwad admitted in a feigned pout, prompting a light laugh from La-Orchan.

“No matter what you wear, P’Phiengwad, you’re always a beautiful woman. Even dressed in men’s attire like this, you have a unique charm,”

La-Orchan remarked while gently untying Phiengwad’s silky hair that had been neatly gathered. Her fingertips brushed through the strands delicately, as if treasuring their softness in her heart.

Phiengwad smirked mischievously, her eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “But I prefer dressing as a woman. And La-Orchan prefers it too, don’t you? When I look elegant and feminine?”

Her teasing tone sent a blush spreading across La-Orchan’s cheeks.

Phiengwad’s slender fingers began to wander, playing with the fabric wrapped around La-Orchan’s chest. The gentle touch of her fingertips on La-Orchan’s smooth skin sent a shiver through her entire body. Leaning closer, Phiengwad brought her lips to La-Orchan’s ear, whispering in a husky voice,

“May I untie this fabric that wraps your chest… please?”

La-Orchan gasped, her heart racing wildly. Her slender hand instinctively grasped Phiengwad’s wrist in a startled reaction.

“P’Phiengwad…” she managed to utter.

Phiengwad pouted adorably, her eyes wide and innocent. “...Please?”

…