Chapter 1:
The room resembled a masterpiece; the walls were adorned with golden leaf patterns, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like twinkling stars.
The stone fireplace emitted a faint warmth, while the heavy velvet curtains blocked out the sunlight, leaving the space shrouded in mysterious shadows.
She slowly opened her eyes to find herself lying on a bed covered in white silk sheets, nothing like what she was familiar with.
Her fingers traced the embroidered patterns on the pillows, and the strange scent filling the air felt old yet somehow familiar.
When she rose, her reflection appeared in the massive gilded mirror. It felt as though she were looking at someone else—her hair was long, cascading like golden threads spun from sunlight.
Her luxurious dress shimmered with silver threads, adorned with delicate white lace ribbons, and her waist was cinched tightly with a satin belt.
Her eyes, once accustomed to simplicity, now gleamed like dark gemstones, framed by lashes as delicate as butterfly wings.
"Where is this place? Where am I? This isn't a dream… but how did I get here?"
The silence was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the long clock echoing through the vast mansion.
The wind gently stirred the curtains, as if whispering secrets of the past—
"Good morning, my lady. Shall I bring breakfast to your room?"
A young maid entered, dressed in a formal uniform, her hair neatly pulled back as she bowed slightly.
Her voice was polite, yet there was a hint of curiosity in it—was this truly her new mistress?
Before she could answer, the door swung open, and a tall man stepped inside.
Dressed in a sleek black suit with a silk tie, his gray eyes locked onto her as if deciphering her hidden secrets.
"Who are you?"—this was the first thought that crossed her mind upon seeing him.
"I... I'm not sure what's happening," she murmured, placing a hand over her chest, trying to recall anything.
⎯⎯⎯ ❖ When Love Meets Cruelty ❖ ⎯⎯⎯
That day had begun like any other bright morning, filled with soft sunlight and birdsong. Yet, ironically, that light never seemed to reach my dark world.
I, Eon, the one condemned to live under the shadow of relentless sorrow.
"Damn my life!" I whispered to myself as I stared into the mirror, my pale reflection resembling a ghost hidden behind a mask of despair.
"Why can't I celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday?" I asked myself, though I already knew the answer.
It was the fear that consumed my soul, a strange obsession that coiled around my heart like a serpent, stealing my peace. It wasn't just love or innocent longing. No. It had turned into something deeper—something pathological.
I followed him wherever he went, like a shadow that refused to be cast aside. There was no meeting, no encounter, not even a fleeting moment in his day that I didn't already know about. I slipped into the details of his life the way night slips into day.
"I want him to be mine alone," I repeated those words like a secret prayer. I wanted to own him, to bind him to me with eternal love, to place him in a cage of silk where he could never escape. The thought of confining him, keeping him from the outside world, brought me a twisted sense of comfort.
Yet deep down, I knew that this obsession was a double-edged sword, dragging me toward madness as much as it pulled me toward him. I was living in a storm of longing and despair—a lethal mix of love and selfishness.
That day, as I sat in my room adorned with faded colors and withering flowers, I realized one thing: perhaps this obsession was merely a reflection of what I truly was—a woman imprisoned by her own love, locked inside a cage of her own making.
Night had begun to drape the city in its dark cloak when I received that letter, carefully sealed with the scent of jasmine, bearing the signature "Jihun"—my beloved.
I didn't need to open it to know what it contained, but curiosity, that irresistible force, made me tear the envelope open.
"Eon, my dearest, will you step outside? I long to see your eyes under the moonlight."
His words made my heart dance with joy, as if the entire world had paused just to whisper, "You are lucky." I felt like a butterfly chasing the glow of its flame. I thought of nothing but reaching him.
Overcome with excitement, I forgot to put on my slippers. I ran barefoot across the cold floor, my hair billowing behind me. Every step brought me closer to what I thought was an endless love.
When I opened the door, I expected to see him standing there, his gaze filled with warmth. But what I saw was entirely different.
Jihun stood there, smiling at me, but his smile was strange—dark, as if it held secrets I wasn't ready to learn. In his hand, something gleamed under the moonlight. I didn't realize what it was until it was too late.
A chilling sensation pierced my stomach. The blade had sunk deep, and a sharp pain shot through my body as if time itself had frozen to witness that moment.
I tried to speak, but the words failed me. All I could do was stare at his face.
He leaned in close and whispered softly, his voice carrying an indescribable cruelty:
"Eon, eternal rest is what you need now."
The weight of his words crushed me, drowning me in a whirlpool of shock and betrayal. Tears gathered in my eyes—not from the physical pain, but from the revelation that came with that moment.
"Why?" I tried to ask, but my voice barely made a sound.
He released the knife and stepped back slowly, leaving me with nothing but emptiness.
The last thing I saw was his shadow retreating, and the entrance floor stained with crimson, as my soul slipped away—like a moon disappearing behind a dark cloud.
That was all I remembered. That was the final moment engraved into the depths of my mind, an enigmatic dream I could never escape.
But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself in a strange, old-fashioned room.
And then, he entered.
He walked forward with steady confidence, standing before her like a king inspecting his newly acquired kingdom. His brown eyes glimmered with a mocking curiosity, as if they knew secrets she dared not uncover.
Tilting his head slightly, he leaned in just enough for her to feel his breath against her skin.
Then, with a deep, low voice, he brushed a strand of her hair between his fingers, as if it were an object of fascination, and said—
"So, you're the new bride?"
In that moment, she felt as if her heart had stopped.
"Whaaaat?!" she screamed inside her mind, but no words escaped her lips. Fear paralyzed her, rendering her unable to speak or move.
Instead of answering, she reacted in her own way—her gaze wavered, and then suddenly, a soft thud echoed through the room.
She had completely lost consciousness, collapsing like a withering flower caught in the wind.
The maid standing beside her rushed forward, desperate to salvage whatever remained of her mistress's dignity.
"My lady! My lady!" she called out, shaking her gently in a futile attempt to wake her.
Meanwhile, the brown-eyed man simply stood there, entertained by the chaos he had just caused. A slow smirk curled his lips before he let out a soft chuckle, a sound so smooth it almost resembled a melody—like a mischievous child playing with a toy they had just broken.
"Well, I suppose I've made quite the impression," he murmured, turning his back to the bewildered maid and strolling out of the room as if nothing had happened.
Outside, the atmosphere was almost poetic. Sunlight filtered through the ornate windows, casting golden patterns upon the marble floor. The scent of aged roses lingered in the air, while the distant chirping of birds provided a faint soundtrack to the bizarre play that had just unfolded.
As for her, lying unconscious on the floor—she had no idea that she had just embarked on a journey full of unexpected twists.
And that this brown-eyed man, with his mocking smile, was only the beginning.