Kittisawat Dynasty and Theerapanyakul Dynasty have been at war for almost ten years. War for power and the throne has been hanging above the two kingdoms like the most vicious storm... However, His Majesty Kimhan has a plan.
"Is Your Majesty sure th...
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"My brother?" Porchay repeats. No, this can't be. She doesn't know. She told Kimhan that she had no idea who attacked her. She didn't see who it was. That's what she said. She didn't see it.
But she can't mean anything else.
"Did your brother find his way back home safely, Your Royal Highness?" That question doesn't make any sense if the nanny isn't talking about her attack. She has to be talking about it, and the more seconds pass by of both of them staying silent, the colder Porchay's body feels. It's as if Kimhan is standing right next to him, freezing his heart just the way he did before they got married.
Porchay presses his palm on his heart and takes a deep breath. He has to make sure that the nanny won't tell Kimhan what truly happened. Not now. Not when things are finally getting better. When Porchay wants his husband to like him... wants them to live together and work together on something bigger than just their marriage. Porchay understands with every fibre of his body that today's conversation changed everything between him and his husband, but if the nanny tells Kimhan that it was Porchay's brother who attacked her, Porchay fears Kimhan's reaction. He doesn't know him well enough yet to be able to guess what Kimhan's reaction would be, but he clearly remembers what he wanted from Kimhan. Porchay wanted Kimhan to find the person who did it and kill them. Why should Kimhan want or do anything less than that if he would find out the truth? The fragile understanding that began to grow like the most vulnerable flower between them would die before it would even be able to bloom.
"Yes, your brother, Your Royal Highness, His Majesty Porsche," the nanny says casually as if she wasn't just adding another crack into Porchay's porcelain world which is already way more broken than it is whole.
Porchay frantically shakes his head, "why would you ask about my brother? He was never here?"
"But he was, Your Royal Highness. I know that he is the one who attacked me," the nanny says softly as if none of this bothers her at all. As if she had already forgiven Porsche... and Porchay as well.
"He..." Porchay gulps down. What is he even supposed to say? "I swear on my life that I had nothing to do with that. Nanny," Porchay makes a careful step forward, "you can't say anything to Kimhan. He can never know. You can hate my brother as much as you want. You can hate even me, but your king can never know what truly happened. Never."
"Your Royal Highness, please don't cry," the nanny frowns and quickly bows down. "I didn't mean anything bad with that question. I apologise if I offended you in any way. Please forgive your lowly maid."
Only when the nanny points it out does Porchay realize that there's a silent tear rolling down his cheek, his eyes wet from unshed tears. He quickly wipes the tear away and grabs the nanny's shoulders, making her look up back at him, "no need to be apologising. My brother is the one who almost killed you. It's just..." Porchay sighs, "so much happened today. Your question scarred me. That's all."
