The Unspoken Vow - Prologue

It snowed so hard that nothing could be seen through the window. Yet, on the inside, a gentle warmth filled the air. It was laced with the subtle scent of home-cooked food and the fragrance of magnolia wood. It had been so long since she’d been in a room like this—once, her home had been just as grand, with carefully crafted furniture and bookshelves full of treasured volumes.

As distant memories, ones that she thought she had long forgotten, stirred in her, Yeon-hong quickly took a deep breath to gather herself. Her breathing hitched as her eyes darted, scanning the room, moving from the lowest seat to the highest.

“Do you not understand?” the man seated in the highest position asked, his voice calm but firm.

“Or have you got honey in your mouth? Why is it that not a single word comes out?”

Yeon-hong struggled to respond, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She looked up at him, her emotions swirling within. He was no stranger. The man before her was the one she thought she’d never see again—the man who had once been a part of her intimate past.

The man was imposing, his features carved from stone, yet there was a dissonance in his appearance—his right cheek bore the mark of something broken, something that spoke of an untold past. Despite his imposing presence, Yeon-hong was resolute, refusing to let herself be swayed.

“It’s not difficult,” he said. “It’s all the same anyway. The only difference is the man you must accept.”

“I am not a courtesan.” Yeon-hong’s tightly shut lips finally parted.

“Of course. If you were a courtesan, would we be having this idle talk? You’d lie here and be done with it.”

At his crude remark, Yeon-hong bit her lip once more.

“I heard you are the daughter of the Kang family. As you said, you’re not a courtesan. I’m sure you know which choice would be beneficial.”

“Beneficial?”

Yeon-hong’s sharp retort made the man smile. He should have been irritated by her words, but the opposite was true. It almost seemed like he awaited this response. Despite trembling in rage, Yeon-honh’s venomous eyes remained on him without a hint of backing down. It seemed he found it quite admirable.

“Of course, it’s beneficial.”

As the man stood up, his previously hidden face was now fully revealed. Yeon-hong’s heart raced violently, her mouth agape. Her eyes widened in shock, unable to blink, trapped in his gaze.

From his straight forehead to his sharp nose, and the unusually smooth lower lip—her eyes traced the line down to his strong chin, lingering there for what felt like an eternity. She was almost mesmerized by his striking features. His beautiful features illuminated by the daylight were flawless—except for one detail.

“A woman who sleeps around* doesn’t get to choose the man. There’s no such thing.”
*The original phrase was ‘a woman who rents her womb’, similar to a prostitute in a degrading way.

The man approached Yeon-hong, who was panting heavily, closing the gap between them.

“All you have to do is just give birth to a child without any issues, and it’ll be done.”

His voice, smooth as silk, clearly reinforced her hopeless situation. Yet, his lips remained curled in a smile, as if her words didn’t faze him.

“Your family is of noble lineage. A family trusted by the King’s most loyal subjects. So, there’s no reason for me to let my useless younger brother inherit the family. If you’re going to offer your body, then you must bear the heir of the eldest son.”

His bone-chilling voice dripped with arrogance. His expression mirrored his contempt, looking at her with derision as if to say, How dare a woman like you hesitate to bear another man’s child? He wasn’t wrong. From the moment she was sold for money and brought here, Yeon-hong’s fate had been sealed.

‘I must give birth to a child for the distinguished Kwon family.’

That was the entirety of the deal. Yeon-hong’s body was no longer her own; therefore, the identity of the man didn’t matter either. It didn’t matter whether it was the eldest son, who had been missing for over fifteen years, or the second bastard who habitually beat his wife… It didn’t matter at all.

Yeon-hong was not in her right mind. She couldn’t hear a thing, her mind blank. It wasn’t because she was despairing in humiliation. From the moment the man revealed his face, she had lost all her sense of reasoning.

As if drowning, she breathlessly inhaled, twisting her body restlessly. Perhaps feeling suffocated, she pulled at her collar, as if trying to keep herself in check, fearing that, unconsciously, her hands might reach out to the man.

“There’s one thing I want to confirm.” her hoarse, dry voice barely escaped her throat.

“Confirm?”

The man, who had been returning to his seat, turned his head.

“Your true identity.”

“What?”

“You’re not the heir to this family, are you?”

The bold, insolent remark caused the man’s brows to furrow. His relaxed smile disappeared, replaced by a menacing aura. The kindness he had briefly shown was now at its limit. He was ready to crush the woman beneath him. Yet, Yeon-hong did not stop. She couldn’t.

“Others might have been fooled, but my eyes can’t be deceived!” Yeon-hong yelled.

Deafening silence filled the room. The man and the woman were caught in a stare-down. A torrent of emotions, too obscure to understand, swirled like a storm, entrapping the two. It felt like being threatened with a knife in your throat. Without speaking the truth, there was no way to escape.

“Hah!”

The man laughed. The eerie silence was shattered in an instant, and the mystery easily unravelled. It had never been a true threat, to begin with.

His well-built body, wrapped in silk, moved towards Yeon-hong. Was he trying to show her what true danger was? Without hesitation, the man grabbed the slender woman’s neck.

“Ugh.”

Her keeling, petite body was lifted off the ground in an instant, effortlessly. Her feet flailed in the air.

“You seem to know who I am.”

The beautiful face turned into that of a demon. No, it had always been a demon.

“Ah, no…”

“True identity? What’s that about? Tell me, who am I?”

The man pressed her relentlessly. Yeon-hong’s throat constricted, and she could only moan in distress. Her vision blurred. Drenched in tears, she was consumed by the man’s presence.

It was definitely him. The one person she could never forget, even if she died. The one who carried scars that no one could fathom, wounds that spoke of unimaginable pain. A deep scar ran across his left eyebrow, extending to his chin, twitching grotesquely.

“I… I…”

Yeon-hong fainted before she could finish her words.

In the end, had she gone mad? Perhaps, if what she saw was a delusion of her mind, then she must have lost her sanity. Otherwise, there was no way he would appear before her.

He was truly a cruel man, not even sparing her a glance in her dreams for the past 5 years. Strangely, it was so much like him—having cried, laughed, and cried again countless times.