The Next Prince, Chapter 39 pg1
The Next Prince, Chapter 39 pg1
Chapter 39: Errors Must Be Corrected.
Ramil remained silent amidst the unfolding events. His narrowed eyes scrutinized the image of his top-ranked adversary, who had mysteriously disappeared amidst the chaos of the banquet. The young man's strong physique and resonant voice seemed to fade away, but a faint, lingering pain in his arm reminded him to stay alert.
This couldn't be a mere coincidence... It couldn't be certain.
The voices in his head grew louder, and a sense of impending danger made Ramil distrustful of everyone. The young royal began to move his feet again after standing still like a statue for a long time. He walked past groups of people who were engrossed in providing information to the police, who had entered the venue to secure the area.
Countless people swarmed around, observing and questioning, but Ramil signaled for everyone to stay away. The young man scanned the crowd, searching for someone... only one person he needed at this moment.
Petai.
“Ramil, are you okay... isn't it?” Like raindrops falling on parched land, the sound was concerned and gentle. The familiar hand reached out to his strong arm, and the beautiful face revealed genuine anxiety, a stark contrast to the facade presented throughout.
“It's nothing... really...” Ramil didn't lose his composure, but he felt confused and in need of support at this moment. He called out the other person's name and swallowed his words, leaving the rest unspoken.
“What's wrong? Do you want to find a doctor?” The other person must have noticed his prolonged silence, as they moved closer to examine each other. Petai's face appeared worried, and that only made the young man struggle to contain his own emotions.
“No, you knew...” the Young Prince spoke only those words, attempting to control his trembling and gripping the other person's arm to steady himself as they walked together.
Amidst the crowd bustling about, Ramil paid no attention to those attempting to conduct physical examinations. He decided to pull Petai's hand towards a secluded area, waiting until a significant amount of time had passed before the white-bodied homeowner began to broach the subject.
“Ramil, you...”
“Did you notice anything abnormal at the event before the pole fell onto Khanin? Did you see anything?” Ramil whispered these words with a soft voice, indicating to those in the position of close followers that he was struggling to come up with anything to say.
“...” Petai remained silent, but it was probably because they had known each other for a long time, and he could read almost everything from the facial expressions and glances that reflected the tension of the white-bodied person. Ramil could read almost everything.
The beautiful-faced owner didn't necessarily have to say anything halfsarcastic that was screaming in Ramil's heart to be completely confirmed.
“Can you tell me, don't make me feel more frustrated than this.” At this moment, it was pitch black, and he couldn't think of anything except begging the person he trusted to confide in what he knew.
“Why speak like that?” Petai looked surprised when he saw Ramil show his vulnerable side, his thin hand tapping his wide shoulder, rubbing lightly.
“I saw you looking at Charan...” His thick hand raised to rub his own face, the image that Petai had looked for Charan still stuck, but that helped him see something abnormal that shouldn't have happened.
His father called Charan for a meeting, even though normally they never thought of having a good relationship with the leader of the Phitakthewa family, this was too strange.
“I didn't look at Charan, but I looked at Prince Rachata, I looked because it was strange that your father called for Charan.” Petai probably thought the same, the other side sneaked a glance at the ground, showing a gesture as if there was something heavy on his mind but didn't want to speak it out.
It had been almost a minute since the beautiful-faced owner remained silent.
Ramil saw the beautiful pair of eyes blink, almost answering every question Petai had asked without the need for the other side to speak or explain anything to confirm.
“You look like... Is it your father who did this?” Ramil didn't want an answer, the young man understood Petai's sandpoint well, the other side was spiritual, a person belonging to Puchongpisut, what else could he say.
Even if you know, he was tongue-tied.
“...” Petai stared at Ramil, as if wanting to say something, but in the end chose to remain silent, allowing tension to build up and weigh on Ramil's mind, to the point where the young prince could barely stand it.
He had no idea what reasons pushed his father to make such a decision.
Rachata will have to face the penalty for attempted murder... his father will be seen as a corrupt person.
Just because he doesn't believe in his own son that much, right? Because Ramil isn't skilled, doesn't have the right tools, isn't impressive enough, to the point where his father can't trust him.
His desire with his father is victory, power, and greatness, but what stands in their way is the method of execution...
“If you don't have to say it, I'll handle it myself.” Ramil considered that silence as a clear answer, he closed his eyes, letting the vulnerability reveal itself, and with a changed feeling and mood, he forgot to open his eyes again.
No matter what, he won't allow his father to use such dirty methods.
Victory and power that originated from corruption, deceit. They will never prosper.
As soon as he returned to the palace, Ramil went straight to his father's private office. The front door had fewer guards than usual, but one of them was still Sivakorn, the honest man, standing with crossed arms as always.
“Young Prince Ramil, don't rush in right now, Your-Highness” Sivakorn spoke cautiously, raising his hand to hold the door. Worried that Young Prince Ramil's actions would disturb the lord inside, he tried his best to block him.
“Step the fuck back.” The tense atmosphere filled the evening air. Ramil didn't intend to listen to Sivakorn anymore, he used all his strength to push the person in front of him away.
“Please, Your Highness…”
“Do you dare to defy your betters? Step back, Sivakorn.”
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