Arisara
Filing into the Ayutthaya packhouse, an unremarkable jungle compound, we ushered the pregnant woman to a simple metallic folding chair, which was the only seat we could find.
I cajoled my friend, “Pheuan, you seriously need to spend time redecorating the place. It looks like an outhouse.”
He clawed back, “Maybe if your pack didn’t suck us all dry with egregious tax rates, I would have a few spare baht to spend on furnishings.” That was a fair point.
A Pattani subordinate, probably an Omega, hurried to her Luna amidst the commotion. “Luna, what happened to you and Kun Anurak? You were supposed to be back here days ago. Sorry for my boldness, but you both don’t look so good.” I guess here you can get away with saying blunt statements and speaking to your superiors openly. If we were back in Thonburi, my husband would have already written her death sentence.