His Royal Highness Prince Tine Teepakorn
IT WAS A GOOD DAY for a party. The sun is bright, the birds are chirping. The halls were wonderfully decorated for a festive. Blood red ribbons hung from one corner to another. He got to invite his friends and classmates to the castle, a rare thing even though he is the Crown Prince. He had been looking forward for today the whole year. In hindsight, it was probably his own fault for getting his hopes up.
He refused to even glance at his friends. He knew what he will find there. Sympathy and amusement. Yet another day where he loses out to the golden child.
He watched resentfully as the bard became grimmer as he sang about Pam’s woes. The Sleeping Beauty, he dubbed her. The chorus of the song was more gripping than the opening, where the bard reiterated the unfairness that has befallen Chiang Mai’s golden princess. Throughout the whole performance, Pam perched at her seat, entranced. Her long brown curls were spread over the loveseat as she sat on it, her hands folded under her chin. She looks like a perfect picture of beauty, with her pink petal lips slightly open.
When the bard finished, the whole court stood up to give him a standing ovation. Tine did so insincerely. The bard wasn’t even that good but no one dares say anything in opposition to Pam. He looked sideways to where his mother shook harshly, dabbing her eyes with a dainty handkerchief. His father wasn’t as dramatic, thank goodness, but he looked forlorn and defeated.
As if it couldn’t be that bad, a flurry of golden and pink and his sister was on the floor, hugging the startled bard. Her shoulders shook as she gave little cries. He felt bastardous, but Tine groaned internally. The people looked adoringly as the young princess thanked the bard and asked everyone for their prayers.
His father stood up, commanding the hall to silence by his mere presence. “Oakley, son of Laertes,” he said grimly. “I thank you for your beautiful composition. The Queen and I,” he squeezed Queen Preeda’s hand in solidarity. “Sees it befitting to award you a pouch of gold from the treasury.”
Pam walked gracefully and sat at her parents’ feet. They make a pretty picture. The courageous King with his noble Queen, and their beautiful, golden, princess. King Pornthip held out his hand to brush against Pam’s beautiful locks. “Our most beloved,” he said tenderly. “Our beautiful, brave, child.”
Cheers erupted from the hall as the people yelled their encouragement for the royal family. Pam looked up shyly, and gave a small wave towards the crowd.
No one even realized that their Crown prince was gone.
On his birthday, no less.