WHISPERS OF LINGORM : A One-Shot Anthology - Chapter 19: Chapter 19

"I accept this marriage..."
Orm’s voice trembled, caught somewhere between a whisper and a silent scream. Her mind repeated the words like a cruel reminder, trapping her in a moment she never truly agreed to. She sat frozen in the room, staring blankly ahead, unaware of the knocks echoing on the heavy oak door.
It wasn’t until the voice rose slightly, more insistent, that Orm snapped out of her trance.
"Your Highness..."
Orm turned, confusion clouding her tear-glazed eyes. She hadn't even realized someone had been calling her, let alone knocking.
The young servant, bowing deeply with practiced grace, spoke carefully,
"Your Highness kwong said she has some urgent matters to attend to. She will join you in half an hour, if you are comfortable waiting. If you require anything, please do not hesitate to call for me."
Orm swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice brittle yet polite.
"No, it's okay. Tell her... I'm fine."
The servant bowed again, murmuring, "Yes, Your Highness," and left quietly, leaving Orm alone once more — alone with the heavy silence that pressed against her ribs, crushing every breath.
Meanwhile, across the palace grounds, Ling sat quietly in her private garden, a small, velvet box cradled in her hand. A wistful smile played on her lips as she brushed her thumb across the surface, lost in thought.
The servant approached, bowing low before speaking, "Your Highness, she said she is alright. She requests you not to worry."
Ling nodded, her smile faltering slightly.
"Please continue looking after her until I arrive," she said gently.
The servant bowed once again and left. Ling exhaled deeply, her fingers trembling as she opened the box, revealing a delicate pendant shimmering under the soft sunlight. She ran her fingers lightly over it, her voice barely a whisper.
"So much happened... so fast," she murmured.
"I know this must feel like a nightmare for you. But... today, we are married. And today, I want you to hear the truth from me..."
She paused, inhaling sharply, summoning courage she had never needed before — not as a princess, not as a royal figure — but now, simply as Ling... a woman deeply in love.
"I love you, Orm."
As the words left her lips, a soft blush warmed her cheeks. It felt strange — a sweet, terrifying kind of strange. For the first time, the confident, unshakable Princess Lingling Sirilak Kwong felt nervous, her heartbeat tripping over itself.
For the past half hour, she had been practicing those simple three words over and over, trying to find the right way to say them. She didn’t want them to sound forced. She didn’t want Orm to feel that this was a royal decree...
She wanted her to feel her love — raw, real, untainted by titles or expectations.
"If only everything hadn't happened so suddenly... I would have proposed to you properly," she whispered.
Flashback....
It all started on Orm’s birthday — the night she mistook Ling for her party's manager and, in an attempt to get rid of her annoying Ex, she kissed ling in front of him. The moment was brief, a mistake, yet unforgettable.
And it was only later, when Orm realized she hadn't kissed a stranger — she had kissed Thailand’s Princess Lingling Sirilak Kwong herself.
Ling hadn’t lashed out. Instead, she smiled, teasing, and soon after, hired Orm as her personal social media manager for her royal public profiles and her company.
Two months passed.
Banter became their daily ritual.
Ling, under the guise of light revenge, playfully called Orm "Manager" with exaggerated importance every chance she got.
Orm, naturally irritated, would roll her eyes or snap back sometimes, cheeks flushing pink — and somewhere between teasing words and stolen glances, invisible strings began tying them together.
Ling knew — from that very first kiss — that something inside her had changed. But before she could even voice her feelings, the scandal broke.
But.
Two weeks ago.
A leaked video. That kiss.
The video had exploded across the country within hours.
Every screen. Every headline.
"The Royal Princess, kissed by a commoner."
Scandal. Humiliation. Chaos.
Orm couldn’t even step outside her house without hearing whispers.
Stares.
Laughter.
The judgment burned into her skin like wildfire she couldn’t put out.
Her career. Her dreams. Her life — all crumbling under the weight of a single stupid mistake.
"I accept this marriage," Ling said, her voice cutting through the air like a blade, her face cold, unreadable.
The silence that followed was brutal. Heavy. You could almost hear the tension breathing inside the royal family's private chamber, Ling sat there, still and composed but her words had just shattered the air like glass.
Across from her, Orm sat frozen. Eyes wide, shoulders stiff, like the world had just been ripped out from under her feet. Her parents were by her side, her mother gripping her father's hand so tightly it had turned pale. Ling's mother — the reigning Queen — sat at the head of the room, her crown invisible but her authority screaming louder than anything.
To protect the Crown. To protect Orm’s dignity — what little was left of it. To protect two bloodlines from becoming the laughingstocks of an entire nation.
The solution was brutal in its simplicity
Marriage.
Before Orm could even find her voice, before she could even protest, her parents had already spoken for her.
Their voices were trembling but firm.
They accepted. They agreed.
Without her consent. Without asking her if she wanted this.
And Ling — Ling, who had always been untouchable, cold and powerful — sat there, calmly sealing Orm’s future with one single sentence.
Flashback ends...
Ling snapped the box shut and rose to her feet, steeling herself.
She had made up her mind.
She would tell Orm everything — her love, her guilt, her promises.
She would not let this marriage become another royal decree stamped over a broken soul.
She walked swiftly through the marble hallways, heart pounding as she neared her— no, now their— room.
Pushing the door open quietly, she scanned the space.
Empty.
A flicker of panic gripped her before she spotted Orm standing outside on the balcony, her figure illuminated by the soft twilight.
Ling approached slowly, giving herself a moment to breathe. She didn't want to startle her. She wanted... to reach her.
"Orm," she called softly.
Orm turned.
Ling froze.
Tears stained Orm’s cheeks, her eyes swollen and red, her lips trembling with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. Her entire being screamed of betrayal, of pain so deep it bled into the air around her.
Ling barely had time to step closer when Orm’s hand shot up, stopping her in her tracks.
"Don't come any closer," Orm snapped, her voice sharp, wounded. "Stay away from me, Your Highness."
The title — spoken like an insult — stabbed deeper than any blade.
Ling opened her mouth to explain, to plead, but Orm’s dam of restraint broke. The words came out in a torrent of raw, searing pain.
"You ruined my life," Orm choked, fists clenching at her sides. "Do you even understand what you’ve done?! One moment... one mistake... and you turned it into a cage I can't escape from! You — and everyone else — made decisions for me! You didn’t even ask what I wanted!"
Ling’s heart twisted painfully, every word a blow she knew she deserved.
"You ruined my life, my dreams, my freedom, what am I now your highness?, I’m just... some Royal Wife now, aren’t I?!" Orm cried, bitterness lacing every syllable. "A piece to fix your precious royal image. A pawn on your golden chessboard."
Ling lowered her eyes, biting back the sting of her own tears. She couldn’t defend herself — not when everything Orm said was true on the one side of the coin.
"I don't accept this marriage," Orm whispered hoarsely.
"I never will. I’ll carry the title if I must. I won’t disgrace your family... but don’t expect me to love you. Don’t expect me to play the happy wife!"
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ling stood motionless, her soul splintering inside her ribcage.
She wanted to say she never meant for this. She wanted to say she loved her. But right now, those words would be nothing but shackles.
Orm wiped her face with the back of her hand, swallowing her sobs.
And Ling, Thailand’s proud princess, could only watch — powerless, broken — as the woman she loved shattered in front of her.
Ling stood there in the fading twilight, feeling the weight of Orm’s words crushing the air out of her lungs. She didn’t argue, didn’t defend herself, didn’t even flinch. Instead, she smiled — a broken, hollow thing — and stepped closer, though every instinct screamed at her to run far away. Her voice, when it came, was a fragile thread barely holding itself together.
"You have every right," she said, each syllable bleeding from her soul, "to end this marriage whenever you wish. A few days from now, a few months... whenever you feel ready." Her eyes shimmered under the sinking sun, but no tears dared fall. She wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not in front of her. She would not chain Orm to a bond soaked in pain. She would not plead. Ling swallowed down the burning lump in her throat and pressed on, her voice gentler, almost trembling. "You don’t have to pretend anything. Not for me. Not for anyone. Live here as you like. On your own terms. This place... it’s yours too, for as long as you want." Her fists clenched so tightly by her sides that she barely felt her nails biting into her palms. She had to say it — before her resolve shattered completely.
"I’m sorry," Ling breathed, the two words slicing through her like the sharpest blade. "I’m sorry for... for everything." She bowed her head for the first time in front of anyone else except her mother, not waiting for a reply she knew she didn’t deserve. And before her body could betray her with the sobs clawing at her chest, she turned and walked away, every step tearing her apart, every heartbeat screaming for Orm to stop her, to call her back, to say anything — but nothing came. Only silence.
Ling’s figure disappeared into the dim corridors, and Orm stood frozen under the darkening sky, the cool wind brushing against her face, stirring loose strands of her hair, but she barely felt it. She stared at the empty doorway where Ling had been just moments ago, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs, an ache she couldn’t name tightening around her chest. And when she finally moved, it was mechanical — like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Her hands found the necklace Ling had left behind on the small side table, her fingers brushing over the delicate chain as if it might burn her. She clenched it tightly, sinking down onto the floor of the balcony, knees pulled close to her chest. Her vision blurred, but she didn’t wipe her tears. She let them fall freely into the folds of her white gown, into the silent night that wrapped around her like a shroud.
Ling had given her freedom without asking for anything in return. Ling had apologized when she hadn’t needed to. Ling had walked away before Orm could even process the storm roaring inside her. And somehow, that hurt more than any betrayal ever could.
Elsewhere, in the cold loneliness of a chamber, Ling sat motionless against the heavy wooden door, the lock turning her into a prisoner of her own regrets. The echoes of the ceremony, the laughter of the guests, the blessings whispered into her ears — they all felt like cruel jokes now. The ache inside her wasn’t sharp anymore; it was dull, hollow, gnawing away at her insides like a slow, inevitable decay. She wished she could turn back time. She wished she had never touched Orm. Never kissed her. Never dragged her into this nightmare. She wished she could disappear altogether.
The night dragged on, slow and merciless. Orm lay stiffly on the wide bed in the ling's bedroom. The mattress felt too soft beneath her, the silk sheets suffocating. She twisted the necklace around her fingers again and again, until the thin metal cut into her skin. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ling’s face — the quiet devastation she hadn’t dared acknowledge in the moment. Why had Ling made it so hard to hate her? Why had she made it so easy to break? Orm let out a harsh breath, wiping at her wet cheeks angrily. She didn’t want pity. She didn’t want guilt. She wanted answers. She wanted the past to change. But none of it was possible. She was trapped — and worst of all, she was starting to wonder if her heart was too.
Far across the palace, Ling curled tighter into herself, whispering the same forbidden wish again and again:
"Please. Please don't leave me please."
But she would never say it aloud.
She had given Orm the only thing she had left to give: her freedom.
And if it meant living in this hollow, endless silence, Ling would bear it — until the very last breath left her body.
Next day.....
The palace had returned to its morning rhythm — quiet, respectful, almost reverent.
But Orm didn’t feel peace.
She sat before the mirror in Ling’s royal chamber, adjusting the golden folds of her traditional Thai attire with practiced hands, her movements steady but mechanical. Her reflection stared back — elegant, composed, emotionless.
She hated it.
Ling hadn’t come back last night.
Not even the Queen — Orm felt the absence like a pulse in her throat. Ling had disappeared after that conversation where Orm had shut every door between them.
“I’m not here for love, just... what people need to see.”
The words tasted worse now. Colder. Unforgivable.
Still, she rose, barefoot on polished marble floor, her damp hair clinging softly to her skin as she reached for her accessories. The golden belt clicked into place as the door creaked behind her.
She didn’t turn — not at first — but she felt it.
That presence.
Orm’s eyes lifted slowly to the mirror… and there she was.
Ling.
Standing silently at the doorway in her gym outfit— a stark contrast to the traditional world around her. No makeup, damp hair brushed back, a faint flush on her cheeks that hadn’t faded from her morning workout. Her gaze landed on Orm — and stayed there.
Ling didn’t blink.
The way Orm looked — water still dripping from the ends of her hair, golden silk wrapped around her waist, her bare shoulders glowing under the morning light — it hit Ling like something cruel and beautiful all at once. Her fingers twitched slightly by her side.
She shouldn't look. Not like this.
Orm finally noticed her.
Their eyes met in the mirror, and Ling quickly dropped her gaze, startled, guilty, like she’d been caught trespassing into something private.
“I—sorry,” Ling mumbled, voice rough. “I didn't mean to..... I… just came to get ready. I'll be quick.”
She didn’t wait for permission. Just walked past, eyes on the floor, and disappeared into the bathroom.
Orm didn’t say a word. But her chest tightened.
They hadn’t spoken since last night. Not really. Just cold sentences. Half-hearted smiles.
And even now, the silence between them spoke louder than anything.
When Ling finally came out — clean, sharp — Orm was gone.
She stood alone in the room, adjusting her sash mechanically, jaw clenched, eyes tired.
Of course Orm had left.
She just walked out of the room, her face composed, her steps steady — each one crushing something fragile beneath them.
Downstairs, the ceremony had already begun.
Orm stood near the Queen, guests moving around her with graceful bows and practiced smiles. People were gifting her boxes, congratulating her, treating her with the respect of a royal.
But she didn’t feel happy.
Not really.
As the line of well-wishers dwindled, an older woman approached, her demeanor exuding a subtle arrogance. She offered a cursory bow, her eyes scanning Orm with thinly veiled disdain.
"Quite the achievement, marrying into royalty. From humble beginnings to the palace—it's like a modern-day fairy tale." the woman commented.
Orm's smile faltered, confusion flickering in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, have we met before?"
"Oh, no. But tales of ambition and... strategic alliances travel fast."
Before Orm could respond, a familiar voice sliced through the ambient noise, firm and authoritative.
"You're addressing the Royal Princess, the future Queen of this land, and most importantly—My Wife."
Ling stepped beside Orm, her presence commanding. Dressed in a tailored cream blazer, she exuded confidence and control. She took Orm's hand, intertwining their fingers with deliberate intent.
"I won't tolerate any kind of harsh words or disrespect towards her and You know me well, bpâa. I have a tendency to remove obstacles that displease me."
The elder woman's composure wavered, a flicker of apprehension crossing her features.
"Before your son's company vanishes from every market in Thailand, I suggest you to apologize."
The woman hesitated, pride battling with fear but
"My apologies, Princess. I meant no offense.
"Not to me. Apologize to My wife."
The woman turned to Orm, her gaze lowered.
"Your Highness Orm, I apologize for my earlier remarks. They were inappropriate."
Orm nodded graciously.
The elder woman retreated hastily, disappearing into the crowd.
Ling released Orm's hand, her expression softening.
"I'm sorry for holding your hand without asking."
Before Orm could respond, Ling turned and walked away, leaving Orm standing amidst the murmurs of the gathering, her heart a whirlwind of emotions.