Love Written By Blood // FirstKhao

May the next life be kinder

Khaotung sat on the bed, the envelope in front of him on the blanket. He had been staring at it for ten minutes, not daring to open it. His heart was beating up to his throat, it was as if he subconsciously knew that this letter could change his life forever.

"Okay Khao, you open the letter now, it can't be that bad." A sentence he had muttered to himself countless times before, but now he reached for the yellowed envelope. Carefully he opened it and took out the contents. There was a letter, a pendant, a bracelet, and a ring inside, all looking very old as well. Khaotung took the pendant in his hand, it was gold and had the initials of his name engraved on it. It was finely crafted and set with several green and red stones. The bracelet was made of fine leather, it was incredibly intricately woven and had a gold clasp, again the colors green and red running through the otherwise brown leather. The ring was also gold, set with the same stones that adorned the pendant; it looked like a signet ring, with the coat of arms of the old royal family in the center. Reverently, Khao trailed these treasures carefully with his finger, wondering if they had been stolen from a museum, or if the old lady had been in legitimate possession of them.

With trembling hands, Khaotung took the letter in his hand, opened it, and began to read the lines, which were written in beautiful handwriting, but in ancient letters, on the paper in front of him.

Beloved brother,

It is the year of 1935 and I feel my strength slowly leaving my body. More and more often the thought of you enters my mind.
If only I could have protected you, but what could my fourteen-year-old self have done?

I want you to know that I tried not to let your heritage be forgotten, but Father made it impossible for me to do so.

They forgot you, pretended you never existed. I would even say that they tried to erase you from the history books.

Thanawat Rattanakitpaisan should never have existed.
I never spoke your name aloud after your death, I was not allowed to do so.

But now, on my deathbed, it is probably too late to put all that back into perspective.

I know that my remorse comes too late and that I should have acted sooner.

Your nieces and nephews will probably never know they had an uncle.

I am enclosing in this envelope your jewelry, the ring you received at your baptism as a promise of the throne, the bracelet you received on the day of my birth, and the pendant you received on your 21st birthday.

Your 21st birthday, only months away from your death, I should have behaved better towards you, should not have behaved like a little devil.

You died because you loved, an inconceivably senseless death. I know he was your true love, you were beaming with joy when you told me and made me swear to keep it a secret at all costs.

I hope that Kanaphan and you will be united in death and that you can forgive me.

With love, Nopakhoon Rattanakitpaisan, first of his name, is the king who should never have been king.

Khaotung read the lines again and again, unable to comprehend what was written there in black ink on yellowed parchment. Could it be that he was a descendant of the royal family? But why did he see himself in the position of the brother whose name he shared?

A surge of inconceivable sadness suddenly flooded through him, it was as if he had learned from the death of a long-lost brother.

And he mourned the love that the slain young king had lost, a man who bore the same name as his project partner, Kanaphan.