FOR THE LOVE OF SIAM
Sorasak stood in his room, looking at his reflection in the glass. The muscles of his face were drawn tight. King Narai couldn’t last much longer, he reasoned. General Phetracha was prepared to take the throne, and Sorasak was next in line after the general-King Sorasak. He grinned at his reflection.
Not far away, guards were leading Constantine Phaulkon, with his arms bound behind his back, to an open field. He was being marched to his execution.
Marie, holding her son George’s hand, walked out of her house in Louvo for the last time. Her husband’s two faithful servants, Diego and Christoph, had arranged to smuggle her and her son to the French fortress in Bangkok. She stopped for a moment in front of the house, tears coming to her eyes, and pointed out the view to the young boy. “See how beautiful it is,” she said. “Siam is our home.”
“Then why are you crying, mother?” the small boy asked. She couldn’t answer.