Magnate's Blood Crown

Thirty Five

** The chapters are long. We are fighting battles. The whole sovereign is fighting battles. So of course reaching everywhere and to everyone is going to be like this. I am trying to complete this but not rush it. I hope you are following.

The battlefield was close, too close for comfort. The tents where Book and Soi Chan stayed trembled with the sound of war—clashing swords, war cries, and the desperate shouts of men fighting for their lives. The air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke, and the tension was palpable.

Prince Kasidet paced anxiously outside the tent, his eyes darting toward the horizon where the battle raged. His heart was heavy with fear, but he refused to let it show. As the prince consort, he had to stay strong, especially for Force, his husband, and for his father, King Phana, who were both out there risking everything.

Soi Chan emerged from her tent, her face calm but her eyes betraying the worry she felt. She was the picture of grace, a true empress who cared deeply for her husband, her children, and all those under her protection. Even here, on the edge of the battlefield, she carried herself with a quiet strength that was both inspiring and comforting.

"Mother," Book began, his voice tight with concern. "I'm afraid for them. I should be out there with them."

Soi Chan placed a gentle hand on Book's arm. "You are exactly where you need to be," she said softly. "Your strength is here, with the injured, with those who need you. Force and your father Emperor Phana know you are with them in spirit."

Just then, a commotion broke out near the edge of the camp. Soldiers hurried toward the tents, carrying someone between them. Book's heart dropped as he recognized the figure—Prince Jiratchapong injured and barely conscious.

"My Prince!" Book cried out, his voice trembling as he rushed to Force's side. The sight of his husband, the strong and fearless crown prince, now lying weak and bloodied, sent a wave of panic crashing over him. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the terror that gripped him.

As the soldiers carefully laid Force down in the tent, Book fell to his knees beside him, his hands hovering over the wounds, unsure where to start. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he felt dizzy, the weight of everything—the battle, his pregnancy, the fear of losing Force—threatening to overwhelm him.

Force's eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Book, pain etched across his face. "Book..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Book's voice cracked with desperation as he gently cupped Force's face, his hands trembling. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he fought them back. "Please, stay with me. I need you... our child needs you."

Force managed a weak smile, trying to reassure him. "I'm here... still here, my love. Just... a scratch."

But the blood staining his armor told a different story. Book's hands moved instinctively, pressing against the wound to stop the bleeding. He was shaking, but he forced himself to focus. "Don't talk, save your strength," he said, his voice firmer now, though the fear still lingered.

Force groaned, the pain clear in his eyes, but he tried to reach out to touch Book's face. "You need to rest too... our child..."

"I'm fine," Book replied quickly, though his hand instinctively moved to his belly, feeling the faint movements of their child. "I'm not the one bleeding out. Just... just let me take care of you."

He could feel the panic clawing at the edges of his mind, but he pushed it down. He had to stay calm, for Force, for their unborn child, for everyone depending on them. Book's knowledge of medicine, honed through years of study, kicked in as he worked to stabilize Force.