My Enemy, My Love

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔒𝔫𝔢

Lady Meili 

Two days before the wedding...

The carriage jostled along the winding road, each dip and bump vibrating through the cabin as we neared the palace. My parents sat across from me, statuesque and composed, their eyes fixed on the sprawling palace growing larger on the horizon. My sister and brother, wedged in beside me, shared wide-eyed looks of excitement and trepidation.

I could hardly bear to think of what awaited us there. 

Thyme -- my closest friend -- marrying his worst enemy. It was like some bitter punchline to a cosmic joke, and I'd been livid at him. Weeks of silence, as though he'd forgotten I was right here, wanting to help, to tell him...something meaningful, anything. But silence -- that's all he gave me. Silence and this absurd invitation to witness him bound to someone like Luka.

I forced myself to look out the window, taking in the lush gardens, marble fountains, and pristine lawns lining the palace grounds. Then, I spotted them. Anurak and his family were approaching the grand marble staircase ahead, and a wave of calm washed over me. Anurak, at least, was here.

When the carriage lurched to a stop, I didn't hesitate. I slipped out quickly, not waiting for the footman, and wove through the crowds of nobles and visitors gathering at the entrance until I reached him. He was facing away from me, speaking to a servant, but as I came close, he turned, and our eyes met. Relief softened his features, and he stepped forward, drawing me into an embrace.

"Meili," he whispered, his voice filled with as much comfort as surprise.

"I was worried," I admitted with a smile, pulling back. "Thought maybe you'd run off and left me to this disaster alone."

He matched my grin. "You think I'd miss this mess of an affair? And leave you to face all these fawning courtiers without backup?"

Our parents, clustered close by, had already begun exchanging pleasantries, their voices, formal and polite as we linked arms and climbed the staircase into the palace. Inside, a sea of servants awaited, bowing respectfully as they hurried to relieve us of our cloaks and carry our luggage to our assigned chambers.

One of the head servants approached with a deep bow. "The King and Queen send their regards, my lords and ladies, and apologize that they are momentarily indisposed. However, the Princes await to greet the guests in the main hall."

I felt my stomach tighten at the thought. The Princes. I barely trusted myself around Luka, let alone in front of an entire audience. Anurak squeezed my hand lightly, sensing my unease. "Don't worry," he murmured, his words grounding me. "Just ignore Luka." 

Somehow, it helped.

We stepped into the grand hall, following the stream of guests and nobles from every province, the room swelling with opulence. Gold-trimmed drapes hung from the ceiling, and murmured whispers filled the air as people's eyes drifted to the raised platform at the far end. And there, as if bound by some invisible chain, stood Thyme and Luka. Both were draped in ceremonial red and gold, a pair of ornate chairs placed behind them, yet unclaimed. Thyme looked solemn, a restrained sort of anguish in his gaze, while Luka -- of course -- appeared as arrogant as ever, the very picture of carelessness.

He loved the attention. 

I hated to admit it, but they looked good together -- an unexpected harmony. I turned to Anurak, but his gaze had drifted across the room, and I watched as his expression grew thoughtful, almost distracted, as though he were searching for someone in the crowd.

"They look... practically perfect together," I muttered, the words bitter even as I forced them out. "It's twisted."

Anurak's attention snapped back to me, and he nodded, a quiet solemnity in his gaze. "If you say so. Though, I wouldn't call either of them happy right now."

I steeled myself as we approached the platform. Thyme's eyes caught mine, and his face brightened instantly. "Meili!" he greeted, warmth lacing his tone, as if he were silently apologizing for the weeks of distance. He took my hand, squeezing it as though it were a lifeline.

"You look..." I hesitated, searching for the right words, "like someone forced into a gilded cage."

He let out a soft laugh, one that sounded a little worn. "Good to see you, too, Meili."

Luka stood beside him, head high and gaze drifting over the crowd with disinterest. His eyes flicked to me briefly, a glint of mockery flashing in them before he looked away. I felt my jaw clench, an instinctive urge to say something sharp rising within me, but I settled for a withering look. Luka only responded with a knowing smirk, like he relished my irritation.

Thyme leaned in close, whispering, "Better keep that look in check, Meili. There's going to be a large feast tonight, and if I'm going to survive it, I'll need you to stay calm."

"Does he even realise how lucky he is?" I replied, trying to ignore Luka's haughty stare. "You're worth a hundred of him."

Thyme chuckled softly, a hint of fatigue in his gaze. "Let's just get through the night, alright?"

Anurak joined in, his tone smooth. "Maybe Luka will surprise you."

"Somehow, I doubt that," I muttered, my gaze lingering on Thyme. Yet as I watched him, something about him seemed... changed. Every so often, his gaze flicked toward Luka, his expression turning unreadable, his eyes softening for a fleeting second before he caught himself. It was strange -- Thyme was my closest friend, yet in that moment, he felt like a stranger, bound up in some silent burden.

He caught my questioning gaze and leaned in, his expression softer. "For tonight, Meili, just...be civil. No grudges."

I sighed, glancing from him to Luka's infuriating smirk. "I'll try," I muttered. But as I watched Thyme, catching that indecipherable look he cast Luka's way, I wondered if there was more to this marriage than met the eye. 

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