The Next Prince, Chapter 22 pg5
The Next Prince, Chapter 22 pg5
“But if you...”
“Petai.” The conversation abruptly ended when someone burst into the reception room without considering etiquette.
Charan stood up from the sofa, and without having to turn and look directly, he could guess who it was. If it wasn't someone with a higher rank than them, it wouldn't have been possible for them to intrude to this extent.
The young man respectfully bowed to one of the Puchongpisut family's elders, showing great reverence. He saw a pair of eyes looking towards them with a grudging expression. If one were to guess, Ramil would probably catch the final sentence, and it might be the reason why the other party didn't seem quite satisfied.
“Leaving.” A short command is an undisputed privilege.
Petai had no opportunity to bid farewell or have any further conversation with Charan. The young man walked out of the reception room quietly, leaving the cold teacup behind.
Ramil's expression at the moment was indeterminate to Petai; the young man walked silently down the corridor of the Royal Palace, following the wide back of someone who appeared in his line of sight, gradually becoming familiar. Even though it was a person in a position to serve as a constant follower, the atmosphere grew tense. Until Ramil signaled others to step back and turned to face each other... That's when Petai caught a glimpse of the disgruntled look in the man’s eyes.
“What were you talking about?” As the descendant of a noble family, he lowered his voice and asked. The hallway was devoid of people, but Ramil remained vigilant, just as he had been taught by his father, Rachata.
“On general things...” Petai responded truthfully, uninterested in being persuasive. However, the twitching in his forehead indicated that his response was not satisfying enough for the listener.
“Is this about finding a way to release stress, something called general?”
“Your Highness, we only talked about art… If y-.” Petai's explanation was not yet complete. As the noble young lord exerted a force to draw him closer, Petai's low voice almost became a whisper.
“Charan belongs to the Atsawathewathin family, our enemy. If you don't want to get heated, stay away from him.”
“…”
“How many times do I have to talk about responsibilities, reminding you of who you belong to and what your duties are?”
The old words that Petai remembered came to mind and he used them.
He secretly took a breath before holding his hands back, intending to break free from the grip. However, the taller person wouldn't allow it.
Finally, with less power, the person resorted to not resisting. Yes...they stopped physically resisting and responded verbally instead.
“Your Highness, I remember what my duties are...”
“…”
“But there are no rules written for followers that prohibit me from learning art, right, Young Prince Ramil?”
…
An intricately colored piece of wide fabric, representing meticulous skill and requesting affirmation, was handed over to the middle-aged man. Dhipabawon's face was tinged with a smile as his eyes surveyed the recent artwork from Charan.
“So, it's Eden Garden... Your skills are as good as ever.”
“I humbly thank you, Your Highness. Those words were respectfully received.” The person received the compliment by bowing their head, causing Charan to pause and reflect.
“Please tell me, what do you think when you see this painting?”
“Your Highness, I just read a book for entertainment and happened to come across an article about Eden Garden.” It was a mixture of truth and deception.
Charan knew well that the Sovereign King always asked in order to reciprocate, but because his conscience was not as pure as before, the young man felt more awkward each time.
“It's beautiful. Thank you so much. It makes this room come alive.” Fortunately, the older person didn't mind. Dhipabawon seemed pleased, enchanted by the admiration of the latest artwork from Charan.
And that was the best outcome... in Charan's opinion.
“If it pleases Your Majesty, I am happy.”
The conversation between the Sovereign King and Nin continued. Charan responded and conversed with Nin as usual, but his inner thoughts were like drifting clouds, no different from some individuals.
Some people... who move around outside that room. Khanin feels like a fish in a glass tank. He mimics swimming, as if sneaking a glance at the door where Chakri reported that Charan is talking to the Sovereign King inside.
Their lips move closer, their minds pondering the situation that has been going on for several days. Khanin feels like Charan is avoiding him, intentionally or unintentionally. He cannot guess.
And because of that uncertainty... Khanin wants to find evidence. He chooses to confront in order to be confident that it's not just his imagination.
The white-bodied owner of the house walks to stand behind a pole, patiently waiting as familiar footsteps approach. Khanin takes a deep breath and then steps out from his hiding place, appearing in front of the tall figure at a close enough distance to leave no room for evasion.
Charan pauses clearly, they lock eyes before Khanin utters what he thinks is the most foolish greeting he has ever spoken.
“Well.”
The older person does not respond with words, instead raising a hand to touch his slightly bowed head in a gesture of respectful courtesy, causing Khanin to hesitate.
These past few days, he thought he could gradually get used to the presence of many people who constantly showed respect to each other. But when it comes to Charan, the internal feeling grows louder in opposition.
“Is there anything Your Highness needs me to attend to?”
Khanin is unfamiliar, unwilling to familiarize himself with the imposing stance, the required distance to face. Now, what he wonders, it is clear that Charan intentionally treats him like a stranger.
There is no reflection in this area. Khanin has no idea how he looks right now, but if judged by sound alone, he...
It sounds too rehearsed, doesn't it?
Is it going to be like this... are we going to be like this?”
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