Two years had passed since the day the King brought the unknown youth to his castle, under the bewildered and astonished gazes of all its inhabitants.
Their meeting had taken place during the military campaign in the lands of Luang. Siriporn remembered it as clearly as if it were yesterday: amidst the chaotic tumult of raging battles, Athit seemed illuminated by a divine radiance. It was impossible not to notice him.
"You're making it all up," Athit never believed him. "It was an ordinary cloudy day; there wasn't a single ray of sun in the sky."
"That means the gods themselves sent you into my life," the King would answer with satisfaction. "How could I make it up? I didn't even know your name then."
In that moment, the entire world around them seemed to cease to exist; sounds faded, movements slowed, and people blurred—only his silhouette remained sharp and clear. He stood there, looking completely out of place. Too gentle and innocent. And the moment their eyes met, the ruler of Arichayan was lost completely, irrevocably and finally. Just like that, the ruler of one of the strongest and most prosperous kingdoms was ready to fall to his knees before a stranger from the lands he had just conquered.
They continued to stand there, staring at each other. Chaos raged all around, and at the center of this chaos was he—Athit.
At first, the boy was frightened and did not understand what was happening when, amidst the unfolding disorder, Siriporn approached him and continued to stare intently, with a look of sheer disbelief. Under his gaze, Athit felt unsure, vulnerable, and terrified.
The motives of this strange man were entirely unclear to him. Would he be killed? Taken prisoner?
He looked into the King's eyes, but there was neither bloodlust, nor anger, nor fury in them. Rather, there was genuine surprise and… interest?
Which made everything even harder to understand.
The strange and suspicious Siriporn not only took his hand then but also called him to come along. Everything felt like a dream; he barely remembered when the battle ended, and suddenly he was sitting in the enemy's carriage on the road to the Kingdom of Arichayan. He saw its ruler only once during the journey after that scene on the street. And again, their eyes met in a silent stupor. His emotions were even more confusing. Can a King, having just successfully conquered new lands, look guilty?
Athit spent the entire journey in thought and anxiety. He neither slept nor ate—and what sleep or food could there be in such a situation?
As for Luang, he had no relatives left there for a long time; essentially, nothing held him there. Perhaps that was why he felt no particular hatred toward the King; rather, he was bewildered, for he represented no value whatsoever.
At that time, loneliness and hopelessness were felt most acutely.
When the carriage stopped in the royal courtyard, he felt uneasy. Throughout the journey, Athit had tried not to think about what awaited him upon arrival, pushing those thoughts as far away as possible. But the moment had come; the carriage doors opened, and he was asked to step out. He immediately began to look around. Thoughts of escape flashed through his mind. Obviously completely hopeless and pathetic. But even they shattered instantly the second he caught the King's gaze. Siriporn stood at a distance, speaking with someone, but his eyes and all his attention were directed at him. Athit looked away. Again, that strange feeling, from which he no longer wanted to run, nor even resist. As if this was the natural order of things, as if it was meant to be. So he simply obeyed his inner sensations and followed the two men in armor, on whose chests and shoulders shone the symbol of the sun—the kingdom's crest.
Athit walked with his head down as he was led further and further through immense, luxurious halls, endless corridors, and staircases. Finally, the guards stopped before one of the doors in a long corridor, opened it, and let the youth inside, remaining outside themselves. Athit expected to be led to a dungeon or some similar place, but the room he found himself in looked nothing short of royal: very bright and spacious, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Every object in it involuntarily drew attention: a large bed with a canopy hanging from the high ceiling, carved wardrobes, a screen and a small table, a patterned sofa and chair, and many miscellaneous items that simply served as decor and filled the room with beauty. Another person, finding themselves here, would undoubtedly have admired it all, but Athit had no mind for it. Only now did he realize how utterly exhausted he was, both mentally and physically. His legs turned to jelly, and a universal weariness overcame him. He sank to the floor, sliding down against the door. Athit had not yet processed everything that had happened to him over the past few days. It was too much. He wanted to close his eyes and drift away, to simply disappear.
He didn't know how much time passed; it seemed he even blacked out for a second before he heard voices behind the door. He stood up, listened, but couldn't make anything out; he tensed up, growing nervous. Then the door opened, and he entered the room. Siriporn stood there, so handsome and stately in the rays of the setting sun that illuminated the entire room through the open panoramic windows, making his appearance and the whole scene something bordering between a dream and reality. Athit looked up at him, and all thoughts seemed to fly out of his head. The man took a step forward, thereby breaking the atmosphere that had formed; the youth backed away. Siriporn did not come too close; he stopped, seeing the reaction, and bowed in a gesture of greeting.
"Pardon my intrusion. Thirasak Siriporn—Ruler of the Kingdom of Arichayan."
That was how their official introduction took place. It took Siriporn considerable effort and time before Athit let him get close. The King himself did not immediately notice that he was extremely gentle and caring with his guest, unlike with anyone before. This was not like him at all. Do people change, or was he always this way, and Athit merely revealed this side of him? Whatever the case, Siriporn knew one thing—Athit Kasem was his destiny, and their meeting was ordained from above. Otherwise, how to explain what was happening between them, what was happening to him? A previously unknown feeling arose as something natural, something taken for granted. As if all this time Siriporn had been waiting for him specifically, and now everything had fallen into place.
From the very first day of Athit's arrival in the kingdom, the life of young Lady Darika changed. If before there was at least hope for their union, now it was all over. His Majesty became even colder towards her. Furthermore, those accursed conversations. It seemed she heard them everywhere, noticing that the entire court and even the servants were laughing at her, and pitying her. Of course, to trade a good marriage for this incomprehensible boy. She spent whole days in her room crying; only occasionally was she seen sitting lonely in the garden. The rejection of the engagement was a tragedy. At home, the situation was no better: her father was incredibly angry both at His Majesty and at her, blaming her for failing to keep a man by her side, claiming she was so inadequate that the King preferred a street urchin to her. She had disgraced her father and herself; from now on, she could only dream of a noble marriage. He was already looking for a suitor to marry her off to another as quickly as possible, before rumors spread across the world and before the King announced his engagement to this stray. Despite the already closed question of their marriage, Siriporn did not send Darika home. He still allowed her to live in the palace, for which she was grateful and glad.