My Enemy, My Love

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔈𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

Lord Anurak of Phuket [Phuwin]

I sat across from my parents, the Marquess and Marchioness of Phuket, the sounds of clinking silverware and soft murmurs echoing through the grand hall as we sat, irritably, at the table in the grand hall. My mother, elegant in a simple gown of blue silk, engaged my father in light -- rushed -- conversation about the near-completed refurbishments in the art gallery at home, while I poked absentmindedly at the rich curry before me. I was the irritated one -- I hated this tradition, our weekly visits to the Royal house of Phuket to dine with them...like the lousy friends of a prestigious family. 

Beside me, near the head of the table, sat Prince Ray. To me, his presence -- even in his own home -- was unwelcome, and it added that familiar tension to the room. He glanced at me, briefly, flashing a mocking smile in my direction; his eyes gleamed eagerly in his tease, and my mind screamed at me to lash out and punch his stupid, handsome face into a bloody pulp. I had hoped never to encounter him again after school, but here he was -- here I was -- sat disagreeably to his left, clenching my fork with renewed intensity. 

It hurt my head. My heart. 

"Anurak, have you heard about Prince Thyme's engagement?" Ray's father announced with an air of superiority. His voice cut through my parent's inaudible hissing-battle, forcing them to quieten down and draw their eyes to him. Ray's mother glanced at me, disapprovingly. The level of hate I had for her was almost equal to that of Ray's; she was a bitter woman, consumed by pessimism and endless disappointment, and she only ever wished misfortune upon those she despised. Her sharp, unforgiving gaze made me uncomfortable, so I turned to the King instead with a forced smile. 

"Yes, I heard," I said, clenching my jaw. "But not from Thyme himself," I continued, realising I was subconsciously squishing the rice down with my fork in my fury. My angry letter to Thyme had been sent this morning, demanding an explanation for why Meili and I had been kept in the dark about such a monumental and personal decision. I wondered why Thyme had not mustered up the courage to tell us; was it his intention for us to find out when the wedding was over? We had made a pact to tell one another the truth, no matter how absurd, dark, or embarrassing it was.

Why had he broken his promise?

"Sudden, but expected," Ray chimed in, snapping me out of my thoughts. A smirk danced on his lips, but my cruel -- death-like stare -- wiped it away instantly; he quickly focused elsewhere, avoiding my confrontational stare. "The Kingdom of Chiang Mai has always been an ally of Bangkok. It's a logical move."

I fought back the urge to retort. Ray always had to find a way to assert his superiority, basking in the glow of our royal connections. But the truth was, I found it infuriating. Ray was Luka's best friend, and with Luka embroiled in schemes that had affected all of us -- Thyme, Meili, and myself -- I couldn't help but hold a grudge.

"Logic can be overrated," I muttered under my breath, a jab aimed directly at Ray, whose face fell for just a second before he masked it with feigned indifference.

Our parents continued discussing the engagement, weaving in and out of their own opinions on how it would benefit both kingdoms. But I found myself zoning out, my thoughts drifting back to my own feelings about the royal family.

My parents had been close to the royal family for generations, their history intertwined like the vines that climbed the palace walls. I couldn't shake the feeling that my parents only maintained our relationship with the Royal family for their own gain. We were the wealthiest noble family, holding the title of Marquis, a status that afforded us respect and influence -- a status that was given to us by the King. A status easily retracted if not honoured or fulfilled according to his best wishes. 

But I resented the way our family leveraged that power for personal gain, how the King took advantage of us, just as I resented Ray for being a part of Luka's world, a world that seemed intent on making life difficult for Thyme and the rest of us.

Making my life a nightmare. 

The conversation shifted, and my mother brought up the Chonburi family. "You know, I've always heard whispers about an ancient law," she began, her tone contemplative. "The eldest son of Bangkok marrying the eldest daughter of Chonburi. It would unite their kingdoms, wouldn't it?"

I nearly dropped my fork. "What do you mean, Mother? I never knew about this." My curiosity was piqued, an unexpected surge of interest igniting within me.

"Old traditions often go unspoken, Anurak," she replied with a soft smile, unaware of the internal confusion -- horror -- her words had stirred. "It's something I heard many years ago."

Before I could ask for more details, Ray's father cut in with an abruptness that made me bristle. "Speaking of unions, Ray here is due to wed soon as well," he announced proudly, a smug expression on his face.

The air in the room shifted. My heart sank as I glanced at Ray, and for a brief moment, our eyes locked. The familiar gleam in his eyes sparked an unsettling mix of emotions in me -- old founded desire intertwined with resentment. He seemed to revel in the attention, but as he met my eyes, I sensed something else -- something bothering him. 

"Congratulations," I managed to say, though my voice felt hollow. The thought of Ray being married, engaged to someone else while I wrestled with my own feelings for him -- whatever they truly were -- left a bitter taste in my mouth. I did not even bother to ask about the bride in question. 

"Thanks," Ray replied, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the moment. "But I suppose you're not too interested in my happiness."

"Hardly," I shot back, but the sarcasm felt weak. I hated that I found him attractive, that I was drawn to him despite the schemes he and Luka had perpetuated. It was maddening, how he could make my pulse quicken and my temper flare all at once.

"Let's keep the focus on Thyme," Ray suggested, his voice smooth but taunting, as if daring me to challenge him. "After all, he's the one who's caught in a political marriage while we're merely..." He paused for effect, "...obligated to fulfill our family duties."

"You seem awfully pleased about this arrangement," I replied, irritation slipping through my carefully constructed facade. "I thought you didn't care much for Thyme."

Ray leaned closer, an infuriating grin stretching across his face. "Oh, I care about him. I just think it's amusing how all these royal games play out. Especially when it involves our families."

I felt a surge of anger wash over me, the urge to knock that smirk off his face clawing at my insides. But I couldn't. Instead, I clenched my fist under the table and forced a smile, all while feeling the tension between us crackle like electricity.

"Quite amusing indeed," I replied, my voice tight.

Dinner continued with polite chatter, but I found it hard to focus, my mind drifting between the topics of marriage and my simmering feelings for Ray. The way he teased me, the way his eyes would flicker with that unwelcome interest -- it left me confused and unsettled. And as for Thyme...well, he had a lot of explaining to do, especially if he knew of the old tradition -- the ancient law. And that if this were really to occur, then he would be forced to marry...

Luka. Oh God. I will write to him immediately, I thought, to warn him. 

I stole a glance at Ray when I thought he wasn't looking. It was a dangerous game we played, balancing civility with an unspoken tension that hung over us. And deep down, I wondered how long I could keep pretending not to notice the way he looked at me, or how often my thoughts betrayed me, wandering into the territory I didn't want to explore.

To what we did. 

For now, I kept my composure, but I knew this dinner would not be the end of our unspoken rivalry -- or whatever it was between us

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