Màu nền Màu tối Mặc định Xám nhạt Xanh nhạt Xanh đậm Vàng nhạt Màu sepia Vàng đậm Vàng ố

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The lively hum of conversation spread throughout the restaurant, turning the meal into something akin to a cordial gathering among long-acquainted companions. Chatdanai and Chanin could hardly contain their curiosity, their eyes gleaming as if attempting to discern the thoughts behind every expression.

" Captain! You should at least introduce this beauty, don't you think?" Chatdanai remarked with a light chuckle, his gaze filled with inquisitive delight. As expected from someone aligned with Sebastian—their penchant for intrigue was equally matched.

Niranthara sat poised, her back impeccably straight. A faint mist seemed to veil her eyes, and the corners of her lips curved ever so slightly.

" My close friend."

She spoke only those three words, succinct, indifferent, and leaving no space for further inquiry.

The terse response nearly caused Chatdanai to lose his composure. A fleeting trace of disappointment crossed his face, but it quickly gave way to a renewed brightness, as though a spotlight had flickered back on. Realizing that coaxing information from their esteemed captain was a lost cause, he promptly turned to the young woman seated beside her.

"Hi there, I'm Chatdanai Phuwong. Do I have the honor of knowing your name?"

A familiar charm laced his words, his usual tactic when attempting to win over someone with grace.

"Intira Vittaya. Nice to meet you."

Her response came unhurried, her tone as light as a breeze brushing past the shoulder, neither particularly warm, nor cold.

For a moment, Chatdanai's radiant smile faltered, as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over him in the height of summer.

Seated beside him, Chanin's lips twitched ever so slightly, threatening to betray her. She seriously considered pinching her thigh just to keep from laughing aloud.

As for Sebastian, he remained entirely composed—arms crossed, watching his friend dig his own grave with quiet amusement, casually sipping iced tea like one enjoying a good show.

"Ah... hahaha..."

Chatdanai let out a weak chuckle, trying to salvage his pride.

'Definitely the captain's kind of friend.'

"Your name is lovely, memorable even after hearing it just once. And with looks like yours, I imagine you must have quite the line of admirers. I wonder... would I have a chance to queue up as well?"

True to form, Chatdanai couldn't seem to resist turning on the charm the moment a beautiful woman appeared, an old habit that showed no signs of fading.

To top it off, he even threw her a cheeky wink, utterly unaware that he had just wandered into dangerous territory.

Before the silence had a chance to curdle into awkwardness, a sharp, silent kick landed on his shin beneath the table. He flinched and turned abruptly.

"What the hell was that for?" he hissed under his breath.

Sebastian simply shook his head, eyes urgently signaling a warning he couldn't voice aloud.

"What's with your twitchy eyes? Got some nerve disorder?"  Chatdanai grumbled, completely blind to the storm gathering beside him.

Sebastian leaned in, voice quiet and precise, like a dagger sliding between the ribs.

"Queue up, my ass. You seriously dared flirt with the captain's girl? You're asking for death or what?"

His words were soft, almost gentle, but carried the weight of a noose being drawn tighter.

A sudden chill seemed to pass through the air.

Chanin, sitting nearby, continued sipping her tea with delicate composure, as though watching a silent play unfold before her.

"But the captain introduced her as just a friend, didn't she?" Chatdanai replied, still undeterred, his voice tinged with amusement. "Who knows, perhaps one day she'll even be a bridesmaid at our wedding."

Sebastian had long ceased to concern himself with the fate of the fool standing before him.

" Have you seriously been living under a rock? Anyone who's ever tried to confess to Intira doesn't even get a 'no', before they can even blink, the captain's already wiped them off like crumbs! What a total dumbass." Sebastian said through clenched teeth.

Then, as if to extinguish any remaining hope, Niranthara's voice arose, soft as a whisper yet chilling enough to send a shiver down one's spine.

" Her family isn't quite ready for her to be entangled in matters of the heart. If you're considering stepping into the circle of those who pursue her... I'd advise you to weigh your intentions very carefully."

Though her words were gentle, none dared to laugh. The atmosphere at the dining table seemed to freeze in place.

Chatdanai shuddered. One sentence, two layers of meaning, both a warning and an unmistakable boundary.

Impossible. He still had many ambitions, and the lady's charms were yet to be fully admired. The social banter was far from satiated. To perish now would be a grave injustice.

" Ahahaha, I'm just messing with you, Intira! Don't mind me, okay?" Chatdanai quickly attempted to salvage the situation.

" Here it comes!"  The waiter appeared promptly, saving Chatdanai from an evident defeat.

" Dinner's served, let's tuck in!" Chatdanai said, grasping the moment like a lifeline amidst a storm. If not now, then when? The prudent know the value of timely action.

Intira sat quietly, each sip of the cool beverage gliding smoothly down her throat, while the small piece of cake slowly dissolved on her tongue. Her eyes curved slightly, as if she were quietly appreciating a richly woven drama unfolding before her. She made no effort to respond to Chatdanai's awkward remarks, instead smiling inwardly, clearly, he was digging himself into a hole and struggling to extricate himself, his gaze uneasy and his words faltering, which was, in its own way, somewhat charming.

As she returned to the present moment, the familiar scene before her eased her heart, a meticulously cleaned bowl and chopsticks, carefully shelled shrimp neatly arranged in a dish, and a glass of chilled fruit juice placed conveniently by her side. Everything was arranged perfectly, as if awaiting her arrival to begin a private banquet.

" If you don't like it... then don't force yourself." Niranthara's voice was soft, like a gentle breeze flowing through the bustling restaurant, audible only to the two of them.

" I've been to this place before. It's quite decent!"

Niranthara's words were delivered with a gentle tone, yet beneath them lay a keen and discerning awareness. Since that unfortunate incident, she had never once observed Intira venturing into any street-side establishments.

Intira offered no reply, only a silent nod. It was not out of arrogance or fastidiousness that she eschewed such places, but rather due to a misfortune several years prior, when she inadvertently chose an unhygienic venue, resulting in hospitalization from food poisoning.

By coincidence, Niranthara was competing in a different city at that time. Upon her return, the matter had been resolved and Intira discharged. Though never spoken of again, the incident's lingering presence was unmistakable.

Though considerable time had passed, Niranthara recalled the episode vividly and had since become increasingly vigilant, attentive to the smallest details for Intira's well-being. Whenever dining arrangements arose, she invariably suggested serene and impeccably maintained establishments, sometimes to a fault. Thus, when Intira half-jestingly inquired,

" No chance for some street food, huh? Always sticking with those fancy places?"

Niranthara's composure momentarily faltered, though she neither answered nor pursued the subject further. Instead, she smiled quietly and retrieved her phone to search for additional options.

For her, the locale was secondary, what mattered most was that it was suitable for Intira.

The dining etiquette imparted to her from a young age had permeated every gesture and thought with profound subtlety. For Niranthara, removing food from her own bowl was an act she would never countenance, not merely out of courtesy, but as an immutable standard of refinement and dignity. Thus, whenever a portion failed to suit her palate, Intira would silently attend to it on her behalf. Unspoken and unprompted, this practice gradually became an ingrained ritual between them, as natural and inseparable as breath or the steady beat of a heart.

At that moment, the server inadvertently added coriander to Niranthara's bowl of noodles, an ingredient she found disagreeable. She observed quietly, refraining from comment, fully aware that Intira's accustomed attentiveness would not allow it to pass unnoticed. Indeed, upon perceiving the unwelcome garnish, Intira delicately removed all the coriander and consumed it herself before returning the bowl to Niranthara.

Niranthara felt no discomfort nor displeasure at the prior handling of her meal; to her, it was a matter too familiar to warrant concern.

A sudden stillness descended upon the table, not born of sorrow, but rather from the stunned silence of the other three, all frozen in place as they witnessed the scene.

Chatdanai's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, as though he had just witnessed something beyond comprehension. His mouth remained agape, and his hand, halted mid-motion while reaching for a piece of meat, froze completely. Sebastian's face darkened, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits that glinted with a mix of mock irritation and displeasure. Meanwhile, Chanin propped her chin upon her hand, her lips firmly pressed together, and her eyes gleamed with keen interest, as though she were witnessing the pivotal moment of an enthralling theatrical performance.

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Chatdanai: " Last time, the captain's noodles accidentally had cilantro in them. Being the good friend I am, I offered to eat it for her, only to get attitude in return! She claimed she's 'too clean' to share food! But now her 'bestie' happily devours it all, then hands the bowl back like it's no big deal! Where's the justice, HUH???????"

Sebastian: " Yeah, right! 'Best friend', more like body-on-body. Somebody's really taking ' best friends' to a whole new level.

Chanin: "Who knew the captain could be so sweet sometimes? Should we start calling Intira 'sister-in-law' already?"