WHISPERS OF LINGORM : A One-Shot Anthology - Chapter 13: Chapter 13
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Orm sat cross-legged on her bed, a book she had no intention of reading sprawled open in front of her. Becky, sprawled lazily beside her, was glued to her phone, aimlessly scrolling. The room hummed with a comfortable silence.
“So... about yesterday…” Orm broke the quiet, her voice carrying an air of mischief.
“Yesterday?” Becky replied without looking up, her thumb still swiping. “What about it?”
Orm leaned back, resting her weight on her palms, and smirked. “The manager... Don’t you think she was, I don’t know... kinda hot?”
That got Becky’s attention. Her phone froze mid-scroll as her head snapped up. She gawked at Orm like she’d just confessed to a crime. And then came the laughter—loud, unfiltered, and utterly contagious.
“Hahahaha! Wait, wait, hold on!” Becky clutched her stomach, shaking her head. “Are you talking about THE MANAGER? The same one you completely roasted in front of everyone for absolutely no reason? The one who didn’t even do anything, yet you unleashed hell on her? Now that manager is suddenly hot?”
Orm couldn’t help but laugh too, waving her hand off. “Oh, come on! What was I supposed to do? She just showed up out of nowhere! I couldn’t let my act fall apart, could I?” She sat up straighter, her grin fading into a thoughtful expression. “But seriously… did you see her attitude? Even after all that, she just stood there—calm, unbothered, staring at me with those cold, piercing eyes. Not a word, not a flinch. It was... unsettling. And the way she shut that girl up? Like she owned the place. Like she wasn’t just a manager, but… I don’t know… royal queen or something.”
Becky, still giggling, shook her head. “True, true. But honestly? Forget the manager. I’m way more interested in the girl she silenced. She was a masterpiece!”
Orm turned to her, narrowing her eyes in mock accusation. “Hmm, love at first sight, huh?”
Becky smirked, her tone just as teasing. “And you? Already falling for the manager?”
“Oh, please.” Orm rolled her eyes, though the hint of a smile betrayed her. “I was just pointing out the obvious. Sure, she was good-looking, but no way I’d deal with someone carrying that much attitude. I mean, I get it—attitude can look good, but only on someone who knows how to handle it. Like me.” She flipped her hair dramatically for emphasis, making Becky snort.
Becky leaned back, staring dreamily at the ceiling. “I just need to see that girl again. Just once. That’s all I’m asking.”
“And I hope I never see that manager again,” Orm muttered, crossing her arms. “She’s the first person who didn’t apologize to me and had the audacity to show attitude. I mean, who does that? and to ME!— I absolutely hate that. I HATE HER!”
Becky glanced at her friend and smirked knowingly. “Hate it all you want, Orm. But the way you’re talking? She’s already in your head.”
“Not a chance!” Orm shot back, tossing a pillow at Becky, though she couldn’t quite shake the image of those icy eyes staring her down.
The knock at the door interrupted their routine.
Orm walked to the door and opened it, revealing a servant standing politely. “Ma’am, lunch is ready, and your parents have asked for you and Miss Becky to join them in the dining hall,” the servant informed her with a slight bow.
Orm nodded, a small smile on her lips. “We’ll be there shortly.”
The servant bowed again and left, leaving Orm to turn to Becky. “Let’s go. Seems like lunch is waiting for us.”
Descending the grand staircase, the two friends made their way to the dining hall, where an elegant table was already set with an assortment of delicacies. Orm’s parents were already seated, waiting for them. Orm and Becky greeted them warmly before taking their seats.
As the servants began serving lunch, the conversation was light, focused on the day’s mundane details. The clinking of cutlery blended with soft laughter, creating a warm atmosphere.
Then Orm’s father, his tone casual but purposeful, initiated a shift in the discussion. “So, orm, how do you want to celebrate your birthday tomorrow?” he asked, his gaze settling fondly on her.
Orm glanced up from her plate, offering a smile. “However you think is best, Dad.”
Her father raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward. “Come on, it’s your birthday! Surely you have something in mind. A family vacation, perhaps? Or maybe a grand party? What about a gift? How does a designer bag or a new collection of dresses sound?”
Her mother chimed in with equal enthusiasm. “Yes, dear, tell us what you want. It’s your day.”
Orm chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Mom, Dad, I don’t need anything. Just spending the day with both of you is more than enough. It’s been 4 years since I’ve had the chance to celebrate my birthday with both of you, and that’s all I really want.”
Her words carried an emotional resonance, momentarily quieting the table. Her father exchanged a glance with her mother before leaning back with a thoughtful expression.
“Alright,” he said finally. “If that’s what you want, we’ll host a grand celebration here at home itself. It’ll be a day to remember for our princess.” He paused for dramatic effect, a sly smile forming. “And as for a gift… I think I might have something very special in mind.”
Orm tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What is it, Dad?”
He grinned, clearly enjoying the suspense. “How would you like to meet someone you’ve always admired? Someone you’ve been curious about for years—Thailand’s Princess Lingling Sirilak Kwong.”
The room fell silent as Orm processed his words. Becky was the first to react, her eyes wide with surprise. “Wait, what? LINGLING SIRILAK KWONG ? How’s that possible?”
Orm’s father, noticing their reactions, elaborated with a chuckle. “You see, our company recently collaborated with the royal family on a major charity project. Although the Queen doesn’t directly involve herself in politics, her influence on government affairs is undeniable. This partnership brought us closer, and I’ve had the privilege of working alongside them for the past two months. Through this collaboration, I’ve learned that the Kwongs and the Sethratanapongs were once close family friends—both great grandmothers, though those ties faded over time."
“But now,” he continued, his tone softening, “that connection has been rekindled and Princess Lingling is an incredibly kind and down-to-earth person, also queen I mean her mother and she treats us like family despite their royal status. So, if we extend an invitation, and if she’s not too busy, I’m confident she’ll attend the celebration tomorrow.”
Orm’s mind reeled as she tried to absorb this information. The idea of meeting Lingling—a princess she had long admired but barely remembered—was surreal. This wasn’t just about meeting royalty; it was about witnessing a part of her teenage fascination come to life.
Becky nudged her playfully, breaking the spell. “Looks like your wish might just come true. How does it feel to be one step closer to meeting a real princess?”
Orm was surprised but not overwhelmed. Her admiration for Lingling dated back to her teenage years when she’d first glimpsed her in a newspaper photo. Lingling, then a teenager herself, had accompanied the Queen, her mother, to a social welfare event. That single image had ignited Orm’s curiosity—not only about Lingling but also about the enigmatic royal family.
Over time, Lingling grew into a figure cloaked in mystery. Unlike other royals, she avoided the spotlight entirely. While images of the Queen and other family members occasionally surfaced, Lingling’s appearances were impossible. She despised being photographed and kept her profile deliberately low.
Orm smiled faintly, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation flickering in her eyes. “It feels… unexpected. But if it happens, I’d like to see for myself what she’s really like.”
———————————
The night was unusually quiet, but Orm’s mind was anything but. Tossing and turning on her bed, she stared at the ceiling as her thoughts raced in circles, refusing to let her rest. The clock had just struck four when she finally gave up, kicking off the covers in frustration. Sleep clearly wasn’t happening tonight.
Her bare feet met the cold floor as she slid out of bed, grabbing a light jacket before heading out to the garden. The crisp, pre-dawn air nipped at her skin as she began pacing along the narrow stone path that wound through the greenery. Maybe the fresh air would clear her head. Maybe it wouldn’t. But it was better than lying in bed, suffocating under the weight of her thoughts.
Two things had kept her awake, and both were equally maddening.
The first was her birthday. It was supposed to be a special day, even more so this year because of "her" Lingling Sirilak Kwong. The Princess. The girl who had once captured her attention, her heart, her everything, from a mere glimpse in the newspapers all those years ago. Tomorrow, Orm would finally meet her. "Finally" And yet…
Orm let out a frustrated sigh, kicking at a stray pebble on the path. Why wasn’t she as excited as she should be? This was Lingling—the same Lingling who had haunted her teenage dreams, whose face she had memorized from the few blurry photos that had made it to the tabloids before being pulled down by royal orders.
But now, all Orm could feel was a strange, hollow mix of emotions. "Why am I not thrilled?" she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "Was it because it had been so long?" The image of Lingling she had clung to felt almost unreal now, like a fragment of a distant memory. Or maybe… maybe she was afraid that the real Lingling wouldn’t live up to the vision she’d carried for so long. Or maybe, she thought bitterly, "I’m just overthinking everything, as usual."
And then, there was the second reason.
“Her,” Orm hissed under her breath, as if the word itself was venomous. "The Manager."
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get that woman out of her head. She’d been trying all night, replaying their brief encounter over and over, searching for a reason to hate her. And there was plenty to hate. That cold, unflinching gaze. The way she’d stood there, poised and unbothered, even as Orm had unleashed her temper on her. Her attitude—aloof, commanding, untouchable. Everything about her screamed "Annoying."
But then there was… everything else.
The way her sharp eyes seemed to hold a story Orm couldn’t quite read. The subtle power in her voice, laced with a grace that felt almost magnetic. The way she carried herself—not just like an official, but like someone who belonged in that place as much as the owner itself.
Orm groaned, running a hand through her hair. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Why can’t I stop thinking about her? She’s nobody.”
But even as she said the words, she knew they weren’t true.
Her thoughts were relentless, pulling her back to that moment when their eyes had met. There had been something there—something unspoken, something that sent a shiver down Orm’s spine even now. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she cursed under her breath.
“No, no, no,” she whispered, pacing faster now. “What the hell is wrong with me? I don’t like her. I "hate" her. She’s arrogant and insufferable and—”
Orm stopped mid-step, letting out a sharp, frustrated sigh. “And she’s… ugh, too hot,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The confession sent a fresh wave of irritation crashing over her. “This is so stupid,” she muttered, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Orm tried to steady herself, but her thoughts refused to cooperate. She could almost hear Becky teasing her, saying, “Looks like somebody has a new crush.” The idea was absurd. She didn’t have a crush. She couldn’t.
Could she?
“Ughhh! Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me?” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air.
With that, she turned and stormed back into the house, slamming the garden door behind her. She climbed back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as if they could shield her from her thoughts.
But even as she closed her eyes, the images wouldn’t stop. Lingling. The Manager. The conflicting emotions. The butterflies.
And for the first time in her life, Orm felt truly and utterly out of control.
————————————
The Sethrathanapong mansion was alive with activity. Servants bustled about, their movements swift and purposeful as they adorned the grand halls with fresh flowers, shimmering drapes, and crystal chandeliers. The mansion, already a symbol of opulence, now resembled a masterpiece, preparing for the grand celebration of Miss Orm Kornnaphat Sethrathanapong’s birthday.
But the birthday girl? She was still sound asleep.
It was already noon, and Becky had tried everything short of setting off fireworks to wake her best friend. “Orm! Get up!” she yelled, shaking her for what felt like the tenth time. But Orm didn’t so much as stir, cocooned under her thick duvet, her face half-buried in the pillow.
Becky sighed, muttering, “I knew it would come to this.”
Marching to the bathroom, she filled a glass with cold water and returned to Orm’s bedside. Without hesitation, she tipped the glass, drenching Orm in one swift move.
“AAAAH!” Orm shot up like a startled cat, flailing as the icy water soaked through her pajamas. Her wild hair stuck to her face as she glared at Becky, who stood there with a triumphant grin.
“Good morning, Birthday brat,” Becky teased, setting the glass down.
“You are dead, Bec!” Orm shrieked, lunging toward her friend. But Becky was already halfway across the room, laughing as she dodged the attack.
Before their usual morning banter could escalate into an all-out war, the door to Orm’s room creaked open.
“Still causing chaos, I see,” a warm voice teased. Orm turned to see her parents entering the room, their faces lighting up as they saw their daughter.
“Mom! Dad!” Orm squeaked, her soaked and disheveled appearance making her look more like a drowned kitten than the heiress of the Sethrathanapong empire.
Her parents burst into laughter. “What happened to our little princess?” her father teased, gesturing to her dripping hair. “You look… refreshed!”
“Bec happened!” Orm muttered, crossing her arms and glaring at her grinning best friend.
“Oh, don’t blame Becky,” her mother chimed in, walking over to place a gentle kiss on Orm’s forehead. “If you didn’t sleep through half the day, this wouldn’t be necessary.”
Orm pouted, but her mock sulk quickly dissolved as her parents enveloped her in a warm hug. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” her mother said softly.
“Happy birthday, my little troublemaker,” her father added, ruffling her hair.
“Thank you mom dad, I love you so much,” Orm replied, her voice muffled against their embrace. Despite her grumbling, moments like these reminded her how much she loved her family.
Becky, never one to miss a chance, chimed in, “Yeah, yeah, happy birthday and all, but shouldn’t we be talking about the real news?”
Orm frowned, looking between her parents and Becky. “What news?”
"Well,” her father began casually, leaning against the bedpost, “Princess Lingling Sirilak Kwong will be here tonight at eight.”
Orm froze, her brain stuttering to a halt. “…What?”
“She accepted the invitation this morning,” her mother added, smiling.
“Lingling,” Becky said, drawing out the name with exaggerated glee. “You know, THE LINGLING? Your teenage obsession?”
“Shut up, Bec,” Orm muttered, but her voice cracked slightly, betraying her flustered state.
Her father raised an eyebrow. “Not excited?”
“I mean…” Orm shrugged, avoiding their eyes. “I’m happy, I guess.”
“You guess?” Becky leaned closer, her grin wicked. “Orm, you wrote poetry about this woman when you were fifteen. You said you’d marry her if given the chance!”
“Stop it! Bec or I'll kill you for real” Orm snapped, her cheeks flaming.
But the truth was, she couldn’t explain the strange lack of exhilaration she felt. Meeting Lingling should have been the highlight of her special day, a dream come true. Yet, something felt… muted. Lingling had been a distant figure in her mind for years—a symbol of perfection, grace, and unattainability. Now, with the possibility of standing face-to-face with her, the anticipation didn’t feel as electrifying as it should.
“Don’t take it personally, darling,” her mother said, patting Orm’s shoulder. “It’s just that you’ve grown up. That childish excitement fades with age.”
Becky snorted. “Speak for yourself, Auntie. Orm’s just scared she’ll embarrass herself.”
“I’m not scared!” Orm snapped, but the knot in her stomach told a different story.
Her father chuckled, stepping closer to ruffle her wet hair. “Don’t think too much, princess. Just be yourself. She'll definitely like you.”
Orm rolled her eyes, muttering, “Sure, Dad.”
As her parents left the room, Becky leaned closer, her teasing smile softening into something more genuine. “Hey, don’t overthink this, okay? Tonight’s your night. Own it.”
Orm managed a small smile, but as she glanced at the clock, her heart thudded with a mix of anticipation and unease. Tonight was going to be… something.
———————————
The night had arrived, buzzing with an electric mix of excitement and grandeur. Sethrathanapong Mansion looked like a vision straight out of a fairytale—illuminated in soft golden hues, the sprawling estate seemed to glow with life. Security was tight, the staff worked flawlessly, and every corner screamed perfection. Guests had started arriving, filling the air with laughter, music, and the chatter of high society.
Upstairs, Orm was still in her room, getting ready. Her best friend, partner-in-crime, and occasional nemesis, Bec, barged in. As soon as she caught sight of Orm, though, she froze in her tracks.
“Hold up. What—” Bec’s jaw dropped as her gaze raked over Orm. She looked breathtaking. Dressed in an intricately designed outfit, her sleek blonde hair cascading like silk, and her makeup subtle yet sharp, Orm radiated an aura of untouchable elegance. Her presence demanded attention without even trying.
“Oh. My. God.” Bec’s dramatic gasp was anything but subtle. “Who the hell gave you permission to look this good? Is it even legal? Like, I’m supposed to be your best friend, and here I am, feeling like—I can propose you right now!”
Orm smirked, flicking her hair back. “Please, darling, I always look this good.” Her tone was dripping with playful sass, and there was a glint of excitement in her eyes.
Bec rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “You know, if I didn’t love you, I’d genuinely hate you. You’re too much. Anyway, happy birthday, brat!” She stepped forward, wrapping Orm in a genuine hug. “Even when you’re annoying, you’re still my favorite.”
“Aw, thanks,” Orm said, grinning as she hugged her back. “Even when you act like a clown, you’re still mine, love you stupid!”
But before their conversation could escalate into another round of friendly insults, a knock on the door interrupted them. A servant entered, bowing slightly. “Miss Kornnaphat, the guests are waiting, and your presence is requested downstairs.”
Orm nodded gracefully, a small thrill bubbling in her chest. Tonight was her night, after all.
Orm descended the grand staircase of the Sethrathanapong mansion with Bec at her side. The moment they reached the bottom, an announcement echoed through the hall:
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our birthday girl, Orm Kornnaphat Sethrathanapong!”
All eyes turned toward Orm, who basked in the attention with her signature confidence, her elegant demeanor stealing the spotlight.
Orm walked toward her parents, hugged them tightly, and began mingling with the crowd. Minutes passed as she greeted family members, exchanged pleasantries, and endured endless rounds of compliments. Cake cutting and other activities were scheduled after Lingling’s arrival at 8:00 PM, but the waiting felt endless.
By 7:45 PM, Orm’s stomach growled faintly. She shot a glance at Bec, muttering, “I’m starving bec, find me something to eat before I pass out on my own birthday.”
Bec, equally famished, spotted a waiter in the distance. “Finally!” But just as she moved to grab a snack, her eyes landed on someone unexpected walking straight in their direction.
Her face fell.
“Oh no. Orm, don’t panic, but…”
“What now?” Orm asked, her patience wearing thin.
“It’s him.”
Orm turned her head and froze.
Her Ex.
The same guy she’d dumped after a two-week fling back when she thought dating during her university vacation in Thailand was a fun idea. Except, for him, it wasn’t casual—it was "Love." Now, he was heading straight toward her.
“Fuck. What the hell is he doing here?” Orm whispered sharply.
Bec shrugged. “Who invited him?”
“He’s not invited! Bec, handle this!”
“What do you mean, handle this?” Bec snapped. But before she could come up with a plan, the guy was almost at their heels.
“I’m out,” Orm declared and bolted toward the garden.
“Seriously?!” Bec called after her, but Orm was already gone. The ex stopped in front of Bec, asking for Orm.
“Oh, um… she’s busy… somewhere… important!” Bec blurted, trying to stall.
————————————
Lingling, as usual, had arrived slightly ahead of schedule. She entered through the outer gate, flanked by her secretary and bodyguards, exuding her signature elegance. As they made their way toward the main hall, her phone buzzed with a specific call. Without hesitation, she halted and turned to her secretary.
“Wait here. I’ll take this call and be right back,” she instructed with her calm yet authoritative tone.
Her team nodded in silent understanding; they were all too familiar with this particular call, knowing it was one she preferred to answer in solitude. Without another word, Lingling made her way to the garden.
Meanwhile Orm hurried into the mansion’s garden, her heels clicking against the cobblestones. The garden was quieter, dimly lit, and away from the party’s main hustle. She exhaled, hoping to avoid further drama. But her steps faltered when she noticed someone standing by the fountain—a woman with her back turned.
Curiosity piqued, Orm hesitated. Who would wander here during the party? She approached cautiously, the silhouette becoming more familiar with each step. Then, the woman ended her call and turned around.
"YOU?!".... "YOU?!" Orm and Lingling’s voices overlapped in mutual shock.
"What are you doing here?" they both demanded, their tones sharp yet incredulous.
"I should be asking you that!" they snapped simultaneously, followed by a collective groan.
"Ugh, shut up! I’ll talk first," Orm declared, raising a finger to silence Lingling, who looked ready to retort.
But before Orm could say anything, her ex’s voice rang out. He had followed her. Orm spun around, her heart sinking. "Godd! Not him," she muttered under her breath.
Desperate, her mind raced. She turned back to Lingling, her lips parting as she blurted,
"I hate you, but…"
But before Lingling could react—without warning, Orm stepped forward, closing the distance between them. And in one bold, impulsive move, she pressed her lips against Lingling’s, silencing the chaos in her mind and the world around them.
Lingling’s eyes widened in pure shock as Orm’s lips brushed against hers. In a feather light kiss, time seemed to stop. Lingling stood frozen, her brain trying to process what was happening.
Behind them, orm's ex halted, his face falling as he muttered a confused apology and turned back toward the mansion.
The kiss lingered longer than either of them expected, leaving Lingling stunned. Orm pulled back, relieved to find her ex was nowhere in sight. But as her eyes flickered to her watch, panic surged.
"Shit, it's 8!" She murmured.
And with no time to waste, she dashed off.
“So... about yesterday…” Orm broke the quiet, her voice carrying an air of mischief.
“Yesterday?” Becky replied without looking up, her thumb still swiping. “What about it?”
Orm leaned back, resting her weight on her palms, and smirked. “The manager... Don’t you think she was, I don’t know... kinda hot?”
That got Becky’s attention. Her phone froze mid-scroll as her head snapped up. She gawked at Orm like she’d just confessed to a crime. And then came the laughter—loud, unfiltered, and utterly contagious.
“Hahahaha! Wait, wait, hold on!” Becky clutched her stomach, shaking her head. “Are you talking about THE MANAGER? The same one you completely roasted in front of everyone for absolutely no reason? The one who didn’t even do anything, yet you unleashed hell on her? Now that manager is suddenly hot?”
Orm couldn’t help but laugh too, waving her hand off. “Oh, come on! What was I supposed to do? She just showed up out of nowhere! I couldn’t let my act fall apart, could I?” She sat up straighter, her grin fading into a thoughtful expression. “But seriously… did you see her attitude? Even after all that, she just stood there—calm, unbothered, staring at me with those cold, piercing eyes. Not a word, not a flinch. It was... unsettling. And the way she shut that girl up? Like she owned the place. Like she wasn’t just a manager, but… I don’t know… royal queen or something.”
Becky, still giggling, shook her head. “True, true. But honestly? Forget the manager. I’m way more interested in the girl she silenced. She was a masterpiece!”
Orm turned to her, narrowing her eyes in mock accusation. “Hmm, love at first sight, huh?”
Becky smirked, her tone just as teasing. “And you? Already falling for the manager?”
“Oh, please.” Orm rolled her eyes, though the hint of a smile betrayed her. “I was just pointing out the obvious. Sure, she was good-looking, but no way I’d deal with someone carrying that much attitude. I mean, I get it—attitude can look good, but only on someone who knows how to handle it. Like me.” She flipped her hair dramatically for emphasis, making Becky snort.
Becky leaned back, staring dreamily at the ceiling. “I just need to see that girl again. Just once. That’s all I’m asking.”
“And I hope I never see that manager again,” Orm muttered, crossing her arms. “She’s the first person who didn’t apologize to me and had the audacity to show attitude. I mean, who does that? and to ME!— I absolutely hate that. I HATE HER!”
Becky glanced at her friend and smirked knowingly. “Hate it all you want, Orm. But the way you’re talking? She’s already in your head.”
“Not a chance!” Orm shot back, tossing a pillow at Becky, though she couldn’t quite shake the image of those icy eyes staring her down.
The knock at the door interrupted their routine.
Orm walked to the door and opened it, revealing a servant standing politely. “Ma’am, lunch is ready, and your parents have asked for you and Miss Becky to join them in the dining hall,” the servant informed her with a slight bow.
Orm nodded, a small smile on her lips. “We’ll be there shortly.”
The servant bowed again and left, leaving Orm to turn to Becky. “Let’s go. Seems like lunch is waiting for us.”
Descending the grand staircase, the two friends made their way to the dining hall, where an elegant table was already set with an assortment of delicacies. Orm’s parents were already seated, waiting for them. Orm and Becky greeted them warmly before taking their seats.
As the servants began serving lunch, the conversation was light, focused on the day’s mundane details. The clinking of cutlery blended with soft laughter, creating a warm atmosphere.
Then Orm’s father, his tone casual but purposeful, initiated a shift in the discussion. “So, orm, how do you want to celebrate your birthday tomorrow?” he asked, his gaze settling fondly on her.
Orm glanced up from her plate, offering a smile. “However you think is best, Dad.”
Her father raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward. “Come on, it’s your birthday! Surely you have something in mind. A family vacation, perhaps? Or maybe a grand party? What about a gift? How does a designer bag or a new collection of dresses sound?”
Her mother chimed in with equal enthusiasm. “Yes, dear, tell us what you want. It’s your day.”
Orm chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Mom, Dad, I don’t need anything. Just spending the day with both of you is more than enough. It’s been 4 years since I’ve had the chance to celebrate my birthday with both of you, and that’s all I really want.”
Her words carried an emotional resonance, momentarily quieting the table. Her father exchanged a glance with her mother before leaning back with a thoughtful expression.
“Alright,” he said finally. “If that’s what you want, we’ll host a grand celebration here at home itself. It’ll be a day to remember for our princess.” He paused for dramatic effect, a sly smile forming. “And as for a gift… I think I might have something very special in mind.”
Orm tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What is it, Dad?”
He grinned, clearly enjoying the suspense. “How would you like to meet someone you’ve always admired? Someone you’ve been curious about for years—Thailand’s Princess Lingling Sirilak Kwong.”
The room fell silent as Orm processed his words. Becky was the first to react, her eyes wide with surprise. “Wait, what? LINGLING SIRILAK KWONG ? How’s that possible?”
Orm’s father, noticing their reactions, elaborated with a chuckle. “You see, our company recently collaborated with the royal family on a major charity project. Although the Queen doesn’t directly involve herself in politics, her influence on government affairs is undeniable. This partnership brought us closer, and I’ve had the privilege of working alongside them for the past two months. Through this collaboration, I’ve learned that the Kwongs and the Sethratanapongs were once close family friends—both great grandmothers, though those ties faded over time."
“But now,” he continued, his tone softening, “that connection has been rekindled and Princess Lingling is an incredibly kind and down-to-earth person, also queen I mean her mother and she treats us like family despite their royal status. So, if we extend an invitation, and if she’s not too busy, I’m confident she’ll attend the celebration tomorrow.”
Orm’s mind reeled as she tried to absorb this information. The idea of meeting Lingling—a princess she had long admired but barely remembered—was surreal. This wasn’t just about meeting royalty; it was about witnessing a part of her teenage fascination come to life.
Becky nudged her playfully, breaking the spell. “Looks like your wish might just come true. How does it feel to be one step closer to meeting a real princess?”
Orm was surprised but not overwhelmed. Her admiration for Lingling dated back to her teenage years when she’d first glimpsed her in a newspaper photo. Lingling, then a teenager herself, had accompanied the Queen, her mother, to a social welfare event. That single image had ignited Orm’s curiosity—not only about Lingling but also about the enigmatic royal family.
Over time, Lingling grew into a figure cloaked in mystery. Unlike other royals, she avoided the spotlight entirely. While images of the Queen and other family members occasionally surfaced, Lingling’s appearances were impossible. She despised being photographed and kept her profile deliberately low.
Orm smiled faintly, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation flickering in her eyes. “It feels… unexpected. But if it happens, I’d like to see for myself what she’s really like.”
———————————
The night was unusually quiet, but Orm’s mind was anything but. Tossing and turning on her bed, she stared at the ceiling as her thoughts raced in circles, refusing to let her rest. The clock had just struck four when she finally gave up, kicking off the covers in frustration. Sleep clearly wasn’t happening tonight.
Her bare feet met the cold floor as she slid out of bed, grabbing a light jacket before heading out to the garden. The crisp, pre-dawn air nipped at her skin as she began pacing along the narrow stone path that wound through the greenery. Maybe the fresh air would clear her head. Maybe it wouldn’t. But it was better than lying in bed, suffocating under the weight of her thoughts.
Two things had kept her awake, and both were equally maddening.
The first was her birthday. It was supposed to be a special day, even more so this year because of "her" Lingling Sirilak Kwong. The Princess. The girl who had once captured her attention, her heart, her everything, from a mere glimpse in the newspapers all those years ago. Tomorrow, Orm would finally meet her. "Finally" And yet…
Orm let out a frustrated sigh, kicking at a stray pebble on the path. Why wasn’t she as excited as she should be? This was Lingling—the same Lingling who had haunted her teenage dreams, whose face she had memorized from the few blurry photos that had made it to the tabloids before being pulled down by royal orders.
But now, all Orm could feel was a strange, hollow mix of emotions. "Why am I not thrilled?" she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "Was it because it had been so long?" The image of Lingling she had clung to felt almost unreal now, like a fragment of a distant memory. Or maybe… maybe she was afraid that the real Lingling wouldn’t live up to the vision she’d carried for so long. Or maybe, she thought bitterly, "I’m just overthinking everything, as usual."
And then, there was the second reason.
“Her,” Orm hissed under her breath, as if the word itself was venomous. "The Manager."
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get that woman out of her head. She’d been trying all night, replaying their brief encounter over and over, searching for a reason to hate her. And there was plenty to hate. That cold, unflinching gaze. The way she’d stood there, poised and unbothered, even as Orm had unleashed her temper on her. Her attitude—aloof, commanding, untouchable. Everything about her screamed "Annoying."
But then there was… everything else.
The way her sharp eyes seemed to hold a story Orm couldn’t quite read. The subtle power in her voice, laced with a grace that felt almost magnetic. The way she carried herself—not just like an official, but like someone who belonged in that place as much as the owner itself.
Orm groaned, running a hand through her hair. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Why can’t I stop thinking about her? She’s nobody.”
But even as she said the words, she knew they weren’t true.
Her thoughts were relentless, pulling her back to that moment when their eyes had met. There had been something there—something unspoken, something that sent a shiver down Orm’s spine even now. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she cursed under her breath.
“No, no, no,” she whispered, pacing faster now. “What the hell is wrong with me? I don’t like her. I "hate" her. She’s arrogant and insufferable and—”
Orm stopped mid-step, letting out a sharp, frustrated sigh. “And she’s… ugh, too hot,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The confession sent a fresh wave of irritation crashing over her. “This is so stupid,” she muttered, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Orm tried to steady herself, but her thoughts refused to cooperate. She could almost hear Becky teasing her, saying, “Looks like somebody has a new crush.” The idea was absurd. She didn’t have a crush. She couldn’t.
Could she?
“Ughhh! Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me?” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air.
With that, she turned and stormed back into the house, slamming the garden door behind her. She climbed back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as if they could shield her from her thoughts.
But even as she closed her eyes, the images wouldn’t stop. Lingling. The Manager. The conflicting emotions. The butterflies.
And for the first time in her life, Orm felt truly and utterly out of control.
————————————
The Sethrathanapong mansion was alive with activity. Servants bustled about, their movements swift and purposeful as they adorned the grand halls with fresh flowers, shimmering drapes, and crystal chandeliers. The mansion, already a symbol of opulence, now resembled a masterpiece, preparing for the grand celebration of Miss Orm Kornnaphat Sethrathanapong’s birthday.
But the birthday girl? She was still sound asleep.
It was already noon, and Becky had tried everything short of setting off fireworks to wake her best friend. “Orm! Get up!” she yelled, shaking her for what felt like the tenth time. But Orm didn’t so much as stir, cocooned under her thick duvet, her face half-buried in the pillow.
Becky sighed, muttering, “I knew it would come to this.”
Marching to the bathroom, she filled a glass with cold water and returned to Orm’s bedside. Without hesitation, she tipped the glass, drenching Orm in one swift move.
“AAAAH!” Orm shot up like a startled cat, flailing as the icy water soaked through her pajamas. Her wild hair stuck to her face as she glared at Becky, who stood there with a triumphant grin.
“Good morning, Birthday brat,” Becky teased, setting the glass down.
“You are dead, Bec!” Orm shrieked, lunging toward her friend. But Becky was already halfway across the room, laughing as she dodged the attack.
Before their usual morning banter could escalate into an all-out war, the door to Orm’s room creaked open.
“Still causing chaos, I see,” a warm voice teased. Orm turned to see her parents entering the room, their faces lighting up as they saw their daughter.
“Mom! Dad!” Orm squeaked, her soaked and disheveled appearance making her look more like a drowned kitten than the heiress of the Sethrathanapong empire.
Her parents burst into laughter. “What happened to our little princess?” her father teased, gesturing to her dripping hair. “You look… refreshed!”
“Bec happened!” Orm muttered, crossing her arms and glaring at her grinning best friend.
“Oh, don’t blame Becky,” her mother chimed in, walking over to place a gentle kiss on Orm’s forehead. “If you didn’t sleep through half the day, this wouldn’t be necessary.”
Orm pouted, but her mock sulk quickly dissolved as her parents enveloped her in a warm hug. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” her mother said softly.
“Happy birthday, my little troublemaker,” her father added, ruffling her hair.
“Thank you mom dad, I love you so much,” Orm replied, her voice muffled against their embrace. Despite her grumbling, moments like these reminded her how much she loved her family.
Becky, never one to miss a chance, chimed in, “Yeah, yeah, happy birthday and all, but shouldn’t we be talking about the real news?”
Orm frowned, looking between her parents and Becky. “What news?”
"Well,” her father began casually, leaning against the bedpost, “Princess Lingling Sirilak Kwong will be here tonight at eight.”
Orm froze, her brain stuttering to a halt. “…What?”
“She accepted the invitation this morning,” her mother added, smiling.
“Lingling,” Becky said, drawing out the name with exaggerated glee. “You know, THE LINGLING? Your teenage obsession?”
“Shut up, Bec,” Orm muttered, but her voice cracked slightly, betraying her flustered state.
Her father raised an eyebrow. “Not excited?”
“I mean…” Orm shrugged, avoiding their eyes. “I’m happy, I guess.”
“You guess?” Becky leaned closer, her grin wicked. “Orm, you wrote poetry about this woman when you were fifteen. You said you’d marry her if given the chance!”
“Stop it! Bec or I'll kill you for real” Orm snapped, her cheeks flaming.
But the truth was, she couldn’t explain the strange lack of exhilaration she felt. Meeting Lingling should have been the highlight of her special day, a dream come true. Yet, something felt… muted. Lingling had been a distant figure in her mind for years—a symbol of perfection, grace, and unattainability. Now, with the possibility of standing face-to-face with her, the anticipation didn’t feel as electrifying as it should.
“Don’t take it personally, darling,” her mother said, patting Orm’s shoulder. “It’s just that you’ve grown up. That childish excitement fades with age.”
Becky snorted. “Speak for yourself, Auntie. Orm’s just scared she’ll embarrass herself.”
“I’m not scared!” Orm snapped, but the knot in her stomach told a different story.
Her father chuckled, stepping closer to ruffle her wet hair. “Don’t think too much, princess. Just be yourself. She'll definitely like you.”
Orm rolled her eyes, muttering, “Sure, Dad.”
As her parents left the room, Becky leaned closer, her teasing smile softening into something more genuine. “Hey, don’t overthink this, okay? Tonight’s your night. Own it.”
Orm managed a small smile, but as she glanced at the clock, her heart thudded with a mix of anticipation and unease. Tonight was going to be… something.
———————————
The night had arrived, buzzing with an electric mix of excitement and grandeur. Sethrathanapong Mansion looked like a vision straight out of a fairytale—illuminated in soft golden hues, the sprawling estate seemed to glow with life. Security was tight, the staff worked flawlessly, and every corner screamed perfection. Guests had started arriving, filling the air with laughter, music, and the chatter of high society.
Upstairs, Orm was still in her room, getting ready. Her best friend, partner-in-crime, and occasional nemesis, Bec, barged in. As soon as she caught sight of Orm, though, she froze in her tracks.
“Hold up. What—” Bec’s jaw dropped as her gaze raked over Orm. She looked breathtaking. Dressed in an intricately designed outfit, her sleek blonde hair cascading like silk, and her makeup subtle yet sharp, Orm radiated an aura of untouchable elegance. Her presence demanded attention without even trying.
“Oh. My. God.” Bec’s dramatic gasp was anything but subtle. “Who the hell gave you permission to look this good? Is it even legal? Like, I’m supposed to be your best friend, and here I am, feeling like—I can propose you right now!”
Orm smirked, flicking her hair back. “Please, darling, I always look this good.” Her tone was dripping with playful sass, and there was a glint of excitement in her eyes.
Bec rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “You know, if I didn’t love you, I’d genuinely hate you. You’re too much. Anyway, happy birthday, brat!” She stepped forward, wrapping Orm in a genuine hug. “Even when you’re annoying, you’re still my favorite.”
“Aw, thanks,” Orm said, grinning as she hugged her back. “Even when you act like a clown, you’re still mine, love you stupid!”
But before their conversation could escalate into another round of friendly insults, a knock on the door interrupted them. A servant entered, bowing slightly. “Miss Kornnaphat, the guests are waiting, and your presence is requested downstairs.”
Orm nodded gracefully, a small thrill bubbling in her chest. Tonight was her night, after all.
Orm descended the grand staircase of the Sethrathanapong mansion with Bec at her side. The moment they reached the bottom, an announcement echoed through the hall:
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our birthday girl, Orm Kornnaphat Sethrathanapong!”
All eyes turned toward Orm, who basked in the attention with her signature confidence, her elegant demeanor stealing the spotlight.
Orm walked toward her parents, hugged them tightly, and began mingling with the crowd. Minutes passed as she greeted family members, exchanged pleasantries, and endured endless rounds of compliments. Cake cutting and other activities were scheduled after Lingling’s arrival at 8:00 PM, but the waiting felt endless.
By 7:45 PM, Orm’s stomach growled faintly. She shot a glance at Bec, muttering, “I’m starving bec, find me something to eat before I pass out on my own birthday.”
Bec, equally famished, spotted a waiter in the distance. “Finally!” But just as she moved to grab a snack, her eyes landed on someone unexpected walking straight in their direction.
Her face fell.
“Oh no. Orm, don’t panic, but…”
“What now?” Orm asked, her patience wearing thin.
“It’s him.”
Orm turned her head and froze.
Her Ex.
The same guy she’d dumped after a two-week fling back when she thought dating during her university vacation in Thailand was a fun idea. Except, for him, it wasn’t casual—it was "Love." Now, he was heading straight toward her.
“Fuck. What the hell is he doing here?” Orm whispered sharply.
Bec shrugged. “Who invited him?”
“He’s not invited! Bec, handle this!”
“What do you mean, handle this?” Bec snapped. But before she could come up with a plan, the guy was almost at their heels.
“I’m out,” Orm declared and bolted toward the garden.
“Seriously?!” Bec called after her, but Orm was already gone. The ex stopped in front of Bec, asking for Orm.
“Oh, um… she’s busy… somewhere… important!” Bec blurted, trying to stall.
————————————
Lingling, as usual, had arrived slightly ahead of schedule. She entered through the outer gate, flanked by her secretary and bodyguards, exuding her signature elegance. As they made their way toward the main hall, her phone buzzed with a specific call. Without hesitation, she halted and turned to her secretary.
“Wait here. I’ll take this call and be right back,” she instructed with her calm yet authoritative tone.
Her team nodded in silent understanding; they were all too familiar with this particular call, knowing it was one she preferred to answer in solitude. Without another word, Lingling made her way to the garden.
Meanwhile Orm hurried into the mansion’s garden, her heels clicking against the cobblestones. The garden was quieter, dimly lit, and away from the party’s main hustle. She exhaled, hoping to avoid further drama. But her steps faltered when she noticed someone standing by the fountain—a woman with her back turned.
Curiosity piqued, Orm hesitated. Who would wander here during the party? She approached cautiously, the silhouette becoming more familiar with each step. Then, the woman ended her call and turned around.
"YOU?!".... "YOU?!" Orm and Lingling’s voices overlapped in mutual shock.
"What are you doing here?" they both demanded, their tones sharp yet incredulous.
"I should be asking you that!" they snapped simultaneously, followed by a collective groan.
"Ugh, shut up! I’ll talk first," Orm declared, raising a finger to silence Lingling, who looked ready to retort.
But before Orm could say anything, her ex’s voice rang out. He had followed her. Orm spun around, her heart sinking. "Godd! Not him," she muttered under her breath.
Desperate, her mind raced. She turned back to Lingling, her lips parting as she blurted,
"I hate you, but…"
But before Lingling could react—without warning, Orm stepped forward, closing the distance between them. And in one bold, impulsive move, she pressed her lips against Lingling’s, silencing the chaos in her mind and the world around them.
Lingling’s eyes widened in pure shock as Orm’s lips brushed against hers. In a feather light kiss, time seemed to stop. Lingling stood frozen, her brain trying to process what was happening.
Behind them, orm's ex halted, his face falling as he muttered a confused apology and turned back toward the mansion.
The kiss lingered longer than either of them expected, leaving Lingling stunned. Orm pulled back, relieved to find her ex was nowhere in sight. But as her eyes flickered to her watch, panic surged.
"Shit, it's 8!" She murmured.
And with no time to waste, she dashed off.
End of WHISPERS OF LINGORM : A One-Shot Anthology Chapter 13. Continue reading Chapter 14 or return to WHISPERS OF LINGORM : A One-Shot Anthology book page.