My Enemy, My Love

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔈𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

Prince Luka [Jimmy]

Pattaya Temple towered above us, its golden spires piercing the storm-heavy sky—a once-sacred place of diplomacy and unity, now suffocating beneath the weight of hostility. The great hall, once a sanctuary for kings and lords to speak as equals, was thick with anger, voices clashing like bloody swords. Heated words left no room for reason, drowning out those whose voices mattered the most.

We had gathered to discuss the West.

"We must send our forces north immediately," Lord Varit of Chiang Mai declared, his fist cutting through the air as if force alone would solidify his stance. "If we hesitate, the West will claim them first. Then the war will not simply be a threat—it will be upon us."

"We cannot move blindly," Lord Niran of Phuket countered, his voice calm but edged with steel. "We lack intelligence on their movements. To act hastily would mean sending good men to their deaths without purpose."

"Haven't you been listening?" Lord Teerak of Chonburi snapped. "Chiang Rai's betrayal has already set the wheels in motion. Every moment we wait, we give the West time to solidify their forces. By then, we will not have the luxury of choosing when to fight."

"Enough." My voice sliced through the noise, pulling the chamber into silence. All eyes turned to me. I leaned back in my chair, fingers tapping idly against my thigh. "The war has not begun. Not yet. The West has gained allies, but they have not attacked the five great kingdoms directly. When they do, then the war will have truly begun. Until then, we hold the advantage to dictate the pace of this conflict."

A murmur of dissent rippled through the hall, but no one immediately challenged me. I had spent the last few weeks drowning in these meetings, suffocating beneath the same exhausting debates. Chiang Rai's betrayal had shaken everyone, leaving the noble families on edge, waiting for word from the northern provinces—waiting to see if they would remain loyal or if they, too, would turn against us.

I exhaled slowly, wishing, for a fleeting moment, that history had played out differently. If the West had not been abandoned centuries ago, if the southern, eastern, and northern kingdoms had not driven them to the brink of economic ruin and self-destruction, perhaps we would not stand on the precipice of war. If the West had flourished under a single ruler rather than shattered into petty, warring factions, perhaps none of this would have come to pass.

A voice cut through my thoughts. "Then we must act before that moment arrives."

I turned my head as Thyme spoke, his voice carrying weight, his expression unwavering. "We cannot afford to wait for the West to strike first. We must act now to ensure we are prepared. Reinforcing the borders is not an act of aggression—it is necessary defense. But I agree with my husband—we do not attack until one of the five kingdoms is directly confronted by the Western army."

My husband.

Something in the way he said it sent a shiver through me. I couldn't tell if there was sentiment behind the words or pure malice. He glanced at me briefly, as if seeking approval. And something in his eyes told me that, at least tonight, he was on my side. Fighting not just for himself, but for us.

Then, just as quickly, he turned away, engaging in battle with another lord who opposed his stance.

I watched him closely. His words held reason, and from the way the chamber murmured in agreement, it was clear his opinion was valued. I should have felt satisfaction that we were reaching an agreement—but instead, irritation gnawed at me.

The past week had been... complicated. Since that night outside my study, something between us had shifted. We had tried to work together, to remain civil, but there were moments when it became unbearable. When old wounds reopened, when keeping composed in each other's presence felt impossible.

But the truth was undeniable: we needed each other more than we wanted to admit.

As the meeting adjourned, I turned to leave, but Lord Chuo of Kelasin stepped into my path.

"Prince Luka," he greeted, his expression unreadable. "Might I have a word?"

I had never engaged in private conversation with Lord Chuo before, but out of courtesy, I inclined my head and stepped aside. "What is it?"

"Kelasin's borders remain vulnerable. Do you believe I should increase our defenses?"

I studied him for a moment before responding. "If the West moves southward, Kelasin will be among the first targets. Reinforcing your borders would be wise. But do not strip your cities of protection."

Chuo nodded. "Thank you for your counsel."

I hesitated, then asked, "And your engagement to the princess? Is it still proceeding, despite the war?"

Something flickered across his face before he answered, "No. I am to marry Lord Saetiao instead."

I blinked, surprised. "Saetiao?"

Chuo simply nodded.

I could have pressed for details, but I chose not to. Instead, I took my leave, stepping outside to where my carriage awaited. Thyme was already seated inside, waiting. The silence between us was thick, uneasy, as the carriage began rolling through the dimly lit streets of Phuket.

Settling in, I broke the quiet. "Chuo is marrying Saetiao."

Thyme turned slightly, brow furrowing. "What?"

"He confirmed it himself."

A brief silence. "That's unexpected," Thyme finally said. "Though I suppose alliances are shifting faster than we can keep track. Did you hear about Prince Ray's engagement?"

I nodded, ending the conversation there. Exhaustion tugged at me—but so did something else. I stole a glance at Thyme. He stared ahead, avoiding my gaze, his posture tense. Ever since last week, since we had gotten too close, something in him had changed.

So, naturally, I decided to provoke him.

I shifted closer. He tensed immediately, inching away, but before he could escape, I caught his chin between my fingers, forcing him to look at me.

His face flushed instantly. I smirked. "You're avoiding me, Thyme."

"I am not." His voice was steady, but the red creeping up his neck betrayed him.

I tilted my head, leaning in slightly. "Lying does not suit you."

Thyme swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to my lips for the briefest moment before snapping away.

I leaned in further, close enough that our breaths mingled. His shoulders went rigid. The moment stretched unbearably tight—until, suddenly, I released him and pulled away just as the carriage came to a stop.

I stepped out first, smirking as I left him behind, flushed and rattled.

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