My Enemy, My Love

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔴𝔬

Lord Anurak [Phuwin]

The nights were colder now. Even in the heat of the jungle, when the air should have been thick with damp and sweat, I felt only a dull chill that never left my bones. The war raged on around us, as it always had, but something inside me had already fallen silent. I sat alone at the edge of the encampment, watching the final embers of the fire flicker against the blackness, my thoughts as scattered as the ashes drifting through the wind.

Since the King's death, the world had shifted, fractured into pieces I no longer recognised. I had wept when the news reached us. Not publicly, of course. Not in front of the men who looked to me for strength. But in the silence of my tent, curled up with my head against my knees, I let the grief wash over me. I had loved that man. He was not just my King, but my godfather, my mentor, the second father who had shielded me when mine turned away.

Thyme had written to me the morning after the funeral. His first words were soaked in grief.

"Anurak,

They buried him beneath the old tamarind tree, like he wanted. Luka stood beside me. We are on better terms now, but I still despise him with every fibre in my body, but oddly enough I do not know how to breathe in this new world without him. I do not know how to be King without him by my side."

There were many letters after that. Pages and pages, long into the nights, as Thyme sought solace in ink and parchment. He told me about the ceremonies, the advisors, the grief clawing at his chest. But most of all, he wrote about the pressure—the unbearable weight of the crown. He confessed he envied me, being so far removed from it all.

"I wish I could trade places with you. Take my sword and fight. Bleed. Die, if it means escape. I am lost without my father, and my mother's grief pains me considerably. How can I lead a Kingdom this way? I must remain in the palace, a prisoner in the finest silk and gold. You may command, but I merely survive locked up here."

I had no comfort to give him. I barely had strength for myself.

Each battle blurred into the next. We had most recently pushed the Western Forces back from the coastal province of Ranong, cutting their supply chain to Chumphon. Our forces now occupied an encampment just west of Khao Phanom, high on the ridgelines, where the fog hung low and carried the stench of death. My regiment was praised for our defence, our strategy. But I had no pride. Only the slow ache of loss, the unspoken wish that next time, maybe I wouldn't come back.

When word reached us that Prince Ray had married, it shattered what remained of me.

I had already known it was coming. The invitations had arrived, and I, like a coward, declined. I claimed the regiment needed me here. That the front lines were too unstable. That my presence was essential. Lies. I couldn't face it. I couldn't bear the image of him, dressed in white and gold, placing a ring on another's finger. Smiling for a kingdom that would never know the truth of us.

I had buried the letter with the others. A wooden box, carved with his initials, buried beneath the earth inside my tent. Dozens of unopened letters from him, each one a blade I could not bear to touch.

Tonight, another arrived.

"My Lord," the soldier said, breathless and awkward, holding out the letter like it burned his fingers. "From Prince Ray. Marked urgent."

I stared at it for a long time.

This one, I opened.

To Anurak,

I don't know if you will read this. Maybe you won't. Maybe you have stopped thinking of me entirely, and I deserve that.

But I cannot let the silence go on. Not anymore.

You were the first person I ever loved. The only person who ever made me feel like something more than a title, more than a pawn. I wanted to run with you once. I remember that. Do you? I would have thrown everything away for you.

But I was weak. I chose duty. I chose my House. I chose what they all wanted of me.

And I regret it every day.

Sarinda is kind. Beautiful, even. But she is not you. She will never be you. I lie beside her at night and all I feel is emptiness. And guilt. Because I promised her a future I cannot give. My heart was no longer mine to offer. You still have it. You always will.

I think of you every day. Every hour. When I close my eyes, I see your face in the smoke, in the stars, in the quiet between breaths.

If you still hate me, I will bear it. If you never want to see me again, I will understand.

But I had to say it. I had to write it, just once more: I love you. And if the gods are kind, they will find a way for us to come back to one another. Somehow. Some way.

Forgive me, Anurak. Or don't. But know that I love you. I always will.

- R

I couldn't breathe.

The letter slipped from my hand and drifted to the dirt floor of the tent. My chest heaved, and my throat burned with the scream I wouldn't let loose. I pressed my hand to my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut.

He still loved me.

But it changed nothing. He was married. I was buried here in blood and ash. The paths we walked now no longer crossed.

Still, something flickered in my chest—something dangerously close to hope.

I dropped my head into my hands and wept.

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