Chapter 46

His hand was resting on the smooth surface of the table before him as the fingers on his other hand was busy scratching the two-days old stubble on his chin. He had been quiet for some time and constantly throwing anxious glances at the bright screen of the device laid on the table. Where the photo of his daughter was kissing another woman. There was no mistaking it. He would recognize his Pranpriya at first glance, silhouette or not, or even in a sea of people. There was no mistaking the tall figure, the slim body and the side profile that he knew too well, especially the nose. They had the same slightly upturned nose.

The expression on his face was unreadable. But, of course, he had always been like that. He had mastered to mask his emotions, hide it from plain sight, tucked them away from everyone's scrutiny, because he didn't want to look vulnerable. He felt vulnerable at the moment.

"Your Majesty?" his assistant called, trying to pull him away from his reverie.

His Royal Highness finally let out a long sigh, one that he might have held in for so long without noticing it, and leaned back to his chair, looking like a defeat. He suddenly looked older than his age, his assistant noticed. His gray hairs and the thin lines on his face suddenly became more visible today. It was evident on his finely-structured features that he did not quite expect this kind of welcome for his morning. But who else would have had, His Majesty's assistant could only wonder. He still looked dashing, though. His Majesty was.

"She should've listened to me," His Majesty spoke quietly, more likely talking to himself than the man waiting for his disposal. His voice quivered a little, but his assistant thought it was due to the cold room temperature. The air system was set a little colder today because the heat outside was hotter than the past days.

"Her Royal Highness has a kindred and free spirit, Your Majesty," the assistant spoke politely.

"A rebellious soul and a stubborn head are what she have," His Majesty said, shaking his head. "Not that I blame her. She got that from me, as I am often reminded everytime I lay my eyes on her." He sighed. "Any news?" he inquired, hiding his fear of hearing more bad news.

"The team is already on their way to Her Royal Highness' place, Your Majesty," his assistant replied, not meeting His Majesty's eyes. He was standing a comfortable distance away from the table, as he should be. But, the distance between them felt unusual today. His Majesty looked like he was building a stone cold wall around him today, the way his eyes would stare at the walls across him, lost in his own train of thoughts.

"Why?" His Majesty asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Your Majesty?" the assistant asked, not quite sure what His Majesty was implying.

"Who ordered the team to go to my daughter's place?" His Majesty clarified himself.

"I believe it was the General, Your Majesty," the assistant provided the answer swiftly, but sounded a bit unsure. Because everything around him seemed like a blur after the article about The Crowned Princess started to circulate within the gates and walls of the palace.

Everyone was moving about in their most unusual pace. The kitchen staff were exchanging meaningful looks and nods with each other as they pass the halls. The guards on the gardens seemed flummoxed with what was happening. Even the chambermaids were unusually quiet today. And he couldn't imagine what might be happening outside the gates of the palace. On the streets, on the corners of the country, in the parliamentary halls on the grand palace. Everyone had grown edgy, by the looks of it. Including him, of course, but he wasn't showing it in front of His Majesty. Because never in his entire professional career as His Majesty's personal assistant had they encountered such scandal. Except, of course, during and after the royal divorce. It was a nightmare.

His Majesty's assistant had been around before Her Royal Highness was born. He knew the ups and downs the royal family had went through, publicized and not. He had been trusted enough to be invited with humors and secrets. And he was there during the darkest and brightest days that His Majesty had went through. The former King's death, the end of a once happy union and, of course, the arrival of Princess Pranpriya. His Majesty's assistant had watched the young princess grew into a sweet, smart, bubbly, beautiful girl. So beautiful that she had all them under her spell. The bright smile was contagious, most especially.

He had witnessed the teenage princess retiring the less glamorous pigtails and apple-cut hair she used to sport before she had hit puberty and grew her hair long and soft, it made her look elegant. He had never imagined, even suspected her of...of being different. (He still couldn't let the word 'gay' form and slip from his lips. He wasn't sure if it was okay to talk and think openly about it, especially in front of His Majesty, himself.) During the summers that Her Royal Highness would spend inside the warm and comfortable walls and gardens of the palace, whenever she would return home from South Korea, Princess Pranpriya would be back each year looking more stunning and beautiful from the last time everyone had seen her. Until when she had turned eighteen and the palace was barely graced by her presence. Who would have suspected her of being different?

"Tell them to abort whatever order the General has told them to do and to wait for my command, instead," His Majesty spoke.

"But Your Majesty--" the elderly and the most loyal assistant paused and stopped altogether, drowning whatever words, words of haste and worries, he wanted to utter next, after he saw the kind of look that His Majesty was throwing at him.

The assistant gulped. It was intimidating and piercing, those eyes. The kind that which anyone before it would understand that His Majesty was the ruler and they were only mere servants. It wasn't unkindly. Nor was it brusque. But it spoke a lot of authority and power that the elderly man bent and bowed and said politely, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Cancel all appointments I have for today and call the Brueshweilers. Tell them that I need to see them immediately," His Majesty ordered and added dismissively, "That would be all."

The elderly, but still fine-looking man in coat, with sleek fine white hairs combed neatly and seemingly haughty cheekbones, nodded. He took a few steps back, bowed again before his King, turned his soles around to head for the massive door made of hard wood and golden plates, with intricate carvings and designs depicting the history, the culture of their land, and left His Majesty alone, giving him time to recall where it all began.

"I know that, Father. But can you do it?"

The words suddenly echoed once again inside His Majesty's mind. It was in the same room that the conversation between the father and the daughter took place five years ago. Where their words were confined securely by the thick walls and the privacy of His Majesty's office inside the palace, as per Pranpriya's request.

The eighteen-year old Pranpriya asked, looking between excited with the prospect of getting what she wants and nervous as she was finally laying out before him her demands.

His Majesty sighed. Beside the fact that what his daughter was asking from him was out of his control, he was still feeling shocked and shaken about what Pranpriya had confessed to him earlier.

"Darling, it's not as easy as you might think it is," His Majesty said calmly.

"But you're the king, Father. Surely, you can do anything about it. Right?" Pranpriya insisted, a glint of hope was peeking through those doe eyes. It was lovely but painful to look at. "Right?" she repeated.

His Majesty leaned back on chair, his fingers interlocked and rested atop his abdomen. He was assessing his daughter's overall being while the tall Pranpriya stood before him, looking empowered but somewhat scared but determined. She looked like she had finally figured out her life; that she had finally found her voice to speak for her truth before her father, the ruler, The King. And while His Majesty felt extremely proud that his eighteen-year old daughter had finally found the courage to speak her truth before him, he was feeling uneasy and perplexed that it had to be that kind of truth. He had never expected that. Nor did he expect that he would be bombarded with such notions, such requests, such demands--questioning his ability, his power of being a ruler and a father. It was unnerving.

"It doesn't work that way, Pranpriya," His Majesty negotiated.

"Yeah. I bet it doesn't," Pranpriya muttered, now crestfallen and looking highly disappointed. Gone slowly was the glint of hope in her eyes. It was a forlorn sight.

His Majesty was on his feet. He took a few steps forward, hands tucked inside the pockets of his expensive tailored pants, and sat on the edge of his table. He was looking at his daughter as if he was seeing her for the first time.

Pranpriya looked different and His Majesty was sure that it wasn't because of the clothes his daughter was wearing. A somewhat baggy denim pants, loose white shirt and a bonnet on her head. She was wearing her spectacles, too. No, those clothes didn't make his daughter different. It was the look on her eyes that made her look like a newborn person. She was glowing, with her head held high and eyes that were burning with courage, hiding away the fear that His Majesty could also see behind those brown doe orbs. Pranpriya looked proud, as she had always been. But His Majesty knew it wasn't about her title, nor her rank in the world. It was definitely the fact that she had finally found the will to speak her mind to him. Something that he had been trying to teach her all these years.

"Look, darling... What if you're wrong? What if this is just a...a phase?" His Majesty asked.

Princess Pranpriya looked at him like he was being ridiculous.

"I'm gay, Father. Your Highness, Your Majesty. I have always known I am," Pranpriya replied.

Hearing it the second time in a matter of less than an hour didn't make it less shocking to him compared to when he heard it the first time. In fact, it was worse than the first time. There was still that tingling, nagging jab on his gut, but now stronger that he felt like passing out.

"Is this what you have learned--what you have...acquired, from living abroad? Is that what you have turned into after all the years you have spent wasting away from the kingdom?" His Majesty demanded, now on his attacking mode. One that he had learned on his military training when he was shaped to fit for the rule of a leader. "Or are you just rebelling against me and the law of the land right now? Is this what it's all about?" His Majesty asked a little unkindly. He had finally gave in to the nagging feeling. That he had perhaps failed his duty of being a father and a ruler. He hated it. He was reminded of the days, the crisis he went through during the course of his divorce settlement with Pranpriya's mother.

"Acquired? You're saying it as if this is a disease," Pranpriya said, disappointment and hurt were written all over her face. "No, Your Majesty," she continued , standing on her ground. She tilted her chin up, looking proud and empowered more than ever as she met her father's eyes. "This is who I am. And I am asking you to protect me and my rights, as your daughter and as a citizen of your land. But if you cannot protect me, then I may have to seek the security I need somewhere else," she said.

"I forbid you to leave the country again, Pranpriya. I'm warning you. No more wandering about, no more living abroad. You're eighteen now, which means that you have to undergo the necessary steps to ensure your place in the kingdom and you will start to attend to your duties," His Majesty said threateningly. He thought it was time to impose his being the ruler. Because if he was fit to rule the kingdom, then he was more fit to rule his daughter, wasn't he?

"Mom and I have already talked about this, Your Majesty. Marco, too. They both agreed that I may need to decide for myself when the day comes and that day has finally come," Pranpriya said, as if she hadn't heard a single word that her father had spoken.

"What do you mean?" His Majesty asked, now on his feet, his face was bordering to panic and rage.

"I'm not here to ask for your consent, Your Majesty. I'm here because I thought you should know. My plane leaves tonight," Pranpriya said, with her nose held high stubbornly, like she was daring the king to refuse her.

His Majesty was stunned by the audacity that his daughter was showing in front of him at the moment. Was this what South Korea did to her? Was this how living away from him, from his rule, from his watch, from the kingdom, did to his Pranpriya? Because he had never seen such stubbornness displayed in plain sight from anyone before.

"And where will you go this time?" His Majesty demanded.

"I'm going back to South Korea," Prapriya replied.

His Majesty replied with a huff, and said, "South Korea? Darling, their law doesn't provide the security and protection you ask from me, Pranpriya. At least, you can roam around here freely, because while the law doesn't yet (he put a strong emphasis on the last word) ensure your civil protection, the society somehow tolerates the... your..."

"My being gay?" Pranpriya provided nonchalantly. "I have friends there, Father. Chaeng and her family, they love me. They still love me even after I told them that I'm gay. Mrs. Park said she will always think of me as her own. And the Chipmunk is everything to me."

His Majesty shot an eyebrow. "She's everything to you?" he repeated.

"It's not what you think. Chaeng is my bestfriend in the whole universe. I can't live away her," Pranpriya said.

"But you can live away from me? From your people? What about your duties? Your responsibilities as the princess? Are you just going to abandon everything all because you feel differently?" His Majesty retorted.

"I do not feel differently, Father. Oh god! At least Mom and Marco took the news lightly. They're cool with it," Pranpriya shot back.

"Of course, they're okay with it, Pranpriya. Because it's not their lineage that would die once you decide that you will not marry a man," His Majesty argued.

Her Royal Highness nodded and smiled weakly. "It's all about the kingdom, isn't it?" she asked.

"No, Pranpriya. It's about who you are born into," His Majesty said. "A princess. You're my daughter. You belong here."

"I cannot wait for the day when you can accept me for who I am, Father. I love you and I will always be your princess. But I cannot serve the kingdom and you, especially, if I can't be who I really am," Pranpriya said.

"You are who you are, Pranpriya. Your being...different will never define you. You are the princess. The world will define you as one. The people will love you regardless, whether they will know that you're...this or not. It doesn't matter," His Majesty said. He had crossed the distance between them and held his daughter by the shoulders. "Don't leave your old man," he told her.

Princess Pranpiya met her father's eyes, brown like hers, and said, "It matters to me, Father."

His Majesty sighed and nodded. It finally dawned on him that there was no point dissuading his daughter. Princess Pranpriya had already made up her mind. His Majesty went back to his chair behind the table, grabbed an elegant-looking pen and a piece of paper that bore the royal emblem and spoke in a business-like tone as he started scribbling.

"You will need a team to look after your personal needs. And security, too. I will order--"

"No, Your Majesty," Pranpriya inerjected. "Thank you, but I intend to be on my own this time. I cannot uproot anyone from the homeland and leave their families behind just to come with me anymore. They'll definitely hate me for it this time. Besides, I want to keep a low profile when I get back there. I might even change my name once everything is settled legally with their government. And I might get a cat."

"When did you start planning all these?" His Majesty asked.

"After when I realized that I'm gay and you cannot protect me," Pranpriya replied.

"That is totally unfair. We have laws, Pranpriya, as you know it. I cannot just bend them--"

"I'm not asking you to bend the laws for me, Father. I'm asking you to protect me and the people like me in your country," said Pranpriya.

"But South Korea doesn't exactly accept--"

"People like me? Yes, I am aware of that. But they don't need to know who I am. Nobody will follow me around and no one will snoop in my life like I'm a fish in a tank, unlike here. I will have my freedom there, Your Majesty. And I will not put you and the kingdom to shame. I promise."

And she did. Pranpriya kept that promise, His Majesty knew. Because he had been keeping tabs about his daughter's life outside the kingdom, outside the country. He would be notified where Pranpriya was and what she was doing. She had been all around the globe, he was told. He was even sent photos of her by his intels. She had been doing what she loved all this time--photography. His Majesty had had men tailing her, monitoring her, keeping her safe, but also keeping a comfortable distance away from Pranpriya because His Majesty didn't want to impose his being a father and a ruler. Despite their disagreement about her decision of leaving the country and despite his strong denial about her sexuality.

His Majesty had provided the protection that the Royal Princess would need, without letting his daughter know; she was his daughter, after all. Pranpriya's safety was his priority. Except when she was in South Korea. He had never dared putting his men around Pranpriya there. Because she had specifically asked--demanded, even--to be left on her own whenever she was in that country and living under the humble name of Lalisa Manoban, working as a professional photographer, running a photo studio in Hongdae and living with her two cats above her studio, who constantly hangs around in a bar called Orange on weekends, which was owned and operated by her bestfriend, Chaeyoung Park.

That was all what His Majesty knew about the kind of life his daughter was leading in South Korea. He didn't know about one Jennie Kim and her relationship with his Pranpriya. His Majesty didn't knew about all of it until his personal assistant handed him the device this morning and showed to him the article circulating on the Web about the supposed romantic affair of one Jennie Kim, a sole heiress of a Korean multi-billion company and Thailand's "prodigal" princess.

His Majesty huffed. He still despised how that word was being attached to his daughter's title by the press, just because he and anyone from the palace wouldn't give them updates about The Crowned Princess. It would always leave a bad taste on his mouth, whenever he would speak of it.

Prodigal.

As if his Pranpriya regretted her decision of leaving the kingdom and neglecting her duties as The Crowned Princess. No, she didn't. His Majesty knew that his daughter was living her life to the fullest, chasing her dreams, pursuing her passion, enjoying every drops of freedom she had acquired. And he was indulging her, despite his disagreement about all of it.

Prodigal. He huffed again.

As if his Pranpriya would return home anytime soon. And as if it wasn't enough that he had men and women covering up her absence to the media, especially during special holidays where her presence was highly required. And now...

His Majesty looked around the elegant interior of the cavernous room. Where the walls were covered and painted with images of both the old and new world and huge frames bearing oil canvasses of the former kings hanging strategically in one wall. The huge flag made of silk, bearing the embroidered Royal Emblem was hanging behind him, like a backdrop. His forefathers was surely shaking their heads right now, looking down at him with disappointment.

His Majesty let out a sigh.

The kingdom would surely be put under the spotlight after the article was released. The nation would ask if the news was true. They had always adored the Royal Princess, despite her absence. The press would surely ask, too. Pry, even, about the life that the Royal Highness was leading outside the country, away from the kingdom, and they would devour her like hungry hyenas. The very thing that they--His Majesty, Her Royal Highness, the former Crowned Queen and her new husband, Marco--decided should be kept hushed until the right time would come was now out and would definitely be a subject of national debate and gossips. The world would look into it. The advocates for gay rights would soon march in the country, in the streets, in front of the palace gates. They would shove the Loei case at all of them once again and demand for her daughter's rights, as well as the rights of all the members of the non-heterosexuals in the country. As if he hadn't been thinking about it every single day eversince her own daughter had decided to leave the country due to the lack of it.

His Majesty let out another sigh and pressed his temple. It had been throbbing since he saw the photo of his daughter kissing another woman.

"It's going to be a long day, Leo," he spoke to his cat, who was sitting comfortably in one of the armrests of the luxurious couch inside his office.

The bicolor cat, who looked somewhat similar to his daughter's Leo, only meowed as a response and slowly dozed himself back to his sleep.

"Sometimes, I wish you could talk. So you could tell me if I'm wrong or right," His Majesty told his sleeping cat.

....

"Hey," Doona greeted the two as she appeared. She offered Jennie an apologetic smile for interrupting them. "So, I have to go. I need to change," she told Lisa.

"Too soon?" Lisa asked.

"Yeah. Well..." Doona pirouetted in front of them to show off the pair of pajamas she was wearing. "This is nice and everything but pink is totally not my color. Plus, I need to get away from the cranky one," Doona said in a whisper.

"The cranky one?" Lisa asked with raised brows.

"The short one. You know, Jesus?" said Doona, still in whispers and nudged her finger towards where the kitchen was. She was extra careful not to be overheard.

"Did you mean Jisoo?" Jennie said curiously.

"Yes. But I'd like to call her Jesus. She scares me," Doona said and made a face. "Everything okay?" she then asked, looking from Lisa to Jennie.

Lisa nodded and offered Doona a small smile. "Yeah, D. Well, not exactly," she said. "But it's already out there and I might as well just sit here and wait for the onslaught later." Lisa tried to manage a chuckle.

Doona placed her arm around Lisa's shoulder, sympathizing like the faithful friend that she was. "You'll be okay, Pokpak," she said and eventually squeezed Lisa in a tight hug. "And I'm just here if you need a human shield or whatever. You know that, right?"

Lisa nodded. She managed a chuckle and indulged Doona with a bear hug. One that she didn't realize she needed until she did so. It was honestly comforting to have Doona around. She had always been like a big sister to her, Doona was.

"How much did you drink from last night, by the way?" Lisa asked as they released each other. "I bet you gave Jisoo a really hard time."

"A lot, on both," Doona replied and turned to Jennie, looking somewhat embarrassed but consoling. "I'm so sorry if we have to meet like this, Jennie. I would love to take the both of you out to dinner later and you and I could come up with a perfect plan on how to tame this rebel soul right here. But under the current circumstances..."

Jennie smiled and said, "It's okay, Miss Doona. This wouldn't be the last time you'll be seeing me, anyway."

"You know, if you'll ever need a handbook of HOW TO HANDLE POKPAK 101, I'll be glad to lend you my copy. It's worn-out and everything but it's highly useful," Doona said, making Jennie laugh and Lisa scowl. "Also, do you know that she thinks that farts can have a nice scent? She's weird, I'm telling you. So if you ever feel like farting in front of her, do so. And do it often."

"Alright! That's enough," Lisa interrupted the conversation and jokingly held Doona by the hand towards the door. "You can leave now. You're gross," she told Doona and handed her the key. "You can use my car. I don't want anyone spotting it outside."

"Someone should've leaked your being a princess sooner, Pokpak. If it means I can use your damn car without me begging for it," Doona said as she took the key from Lisa's hand.

"Don't scratch it, D. I'm warning you," Lisa said a little sternly.

"It's a freakin' nice car, Pokpak. Why would I not want to desecrate it?" Doona said and quickly added, "I'm just kidding!" when she saw the look Lisa was giving her. "Hey, you know that I hate telling you this, but I love you and I got your back. Always, Your Highness," Doona said and tried to curtsy.

Lisa cringed, although playfully. Jennie let out a soft chuckle and offered a hand as Doona struggled to keep her balance.

"Thanks, Jennie," Doona said. "I haven't got to master that one thing yet and I don't like the sound of it, either. But sooner or later you'll need to embrace it, Pokpak, because it's who you are. It's what you've always been. You can't just walk away from it forever," she told Lisa.

Lisa nodded and gave Doona another warm hug.

"Thanks for everything, D," Lisa said.

"We still have to talk about how you just left without a word last night, by the way. You're still not forgiven," Doona said but obviously only joking before she turned the handle and pushed the door open. But she turned around again, this time looking directly at Jennie.

"The pancake was delicious," Doina told Jennie.

"Thanks. But, how did you know I made it?" Jennie asked curiously.

"This one can't even fry an egg, how much more a pancake?" Doona replied, nudging her finger at Lisa as she stepped outside, making Lisa scowl for the second time. "Bye for now, lovelies!" She blew a kiss. "And please go and save Chaeyoung in the kitchen already," she added before the door behind her closed with a click, leaving Jennie and Lisa looking at each other and then at the kitchen.

Where the sound of something hard hit the floor, followed by a crash and...

"Sorry!" they heard Chaeyoung's voice from the kitchen.