Chapter 3 : Broken Bond

Jungkook’s days had become a blur of despair and submission. Every attempt to fight back, to reclaim some semblance of control over her own life, was met with punishment. Her protests, her pleas for mercy, fell on deaf ears. She had no allies, no one to turn to. Her father’s wrath had become her daily reality, and the weight of her situation was suffocating.

Each time she tried to resist, each time she voiced her objection, her mother would bring out the needles. Cold and sharp, they would pierce her skin. The small, discreet instruments of control were meant to hurt without leaving a mark. It wasn’t the pain that was the worst, it was the betrayal from her parents and it was the helplessness, the constant reminder that she was not her own person, that she had no choice.

When she refused to eat, they wouldn’t let her go. The maids, silent and efficient, would force her into compliance, pinning her down, pressing food against her lips. Each bite felt like a betrayal of her own will, but there was nothing she could do. She was trapped, forced into compliance by those who should have cared for her, and the battle for her own autonomy was a losing one.

Her father, indifferent to her suffering, only saw her as a pawn, a means to an end. To him, she was nothing more than a tool to achieve his ambitions. It didn’t matter that she had once been full of dreams and aspirations, capable of painting, healing, and living a life of her own making. None of that mattered now. She had been reduced to a function, to a role in his schemes.

On the day of her wedding, she felt as if she were standing at the edge of a precipice, staring into an abyss of uncertainty and fear. She had not been consulted, had not been allowed to choose her fate, and yet here she was, dressed in bridal attire, ready to marry the crowned prince. A political move. A marriage designed to cement power. It wasn’t about love, or even respect. It was about obligation.

Jungkook stood in front of the mirror in her bridal gown, tracing the intricate patterns of the fabric with trembling fingers. She didn’t recognize the woman in the reflection. The girl who had once been so full of life, so eager to make a difference, was gone. In her place was someone else, someone who was only surviving, not living.

Her father handed her a small vial before the ceremony. “This is for him,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. “A small dose, every day. You will weaken him. Make him compliant. When the time comes, you will do as I say. No hesitation.”

Jungkook did not respond. There was nothing left to say. She took the vial, her heart heavy with the weight of it. She didn’t know if she could do what her father asked of her, but she also knew that there was no way out.

---

The wedding ceremony passed in a blur. Faces smiled, exchanged pleasantries, and congratulated the couple, but Jungkook could feel the emptiness of it all. This was not a celebration, it was a transaction. A deal struck in the shadows. And yet, no one saw it for what it truly was.

When she was led to the royal chambers, she barely noticed the surroundings. The maidservants prepared the room with practiced hands, undressing her as if she were a mere object, preparing for a night that she would never forget, though not in the way one would hope for a wedding night.

Jungkook sat at the edge of the bed, feeling her heart sink. She couldn’t understand how things had come to this. She had never asked for any of this. She had never wanted to be a pawn in a game of power.

Seokjin, her husband now, stood at the far end of the room, distant, cold, unfeeling. His eyes did not meet hers, and his body language radiated a deep disinterest. The marriage had been a formality, nothing more. There was no warmth in him, no kindness.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t offer any comforting words, any attempt to ease her anxiety. Instead, he stared at her.

She looked down but stole some views for few seconds here and there. The crowned prince was tall and had the broadest shoulder she had ever seen in her life.

She was barely covered in her white thin under dress. She felt naked in his eyes. When she felt his eyes intensity, she unconsciously raised her hands to cover her breasts.

She felt her heart was beating fast when he walked toward the bed. She prayed in her heart that he would treat her kindly. When she flinched, turned out he simply laid down on his side of the bed, closed his eyes.

Jungkook swallowed the lump in her throat. This was her reality now. Alone, in a marriage of convenience, with no hope for affection or love. But maybe it was better.

The night dragged on in suffocating silence. She could feel her heartache grow with each passing minute, each moment that felt like an eternity. She couldn’t sleep, but neither could she escape from her thoughts. The reality of what her life had become weighed on her chest, crushing her under its weight. She didn’t know how to move forward, didn’t know how to find peace.

---

Seokjin didn't sleep at all. Once he heard soft snore from Jungkook, he opened his eyes. He sat up and turned to see his bride.

When the queen forced this marriage on him, he searched reasons to prevent it. He heard about her. The only good thing that the Jeon family had. His eyes traced her skin again. On her arms, her sides, her legs and her back. Traces of abuse. She was tortured.

He wanted to care for her. She was after all his wife now. But he didn't know her. What if what he heard about her was untrue. What if she was a spy. He couldn't risk it.

------

The air in the chamber was cold, not from the morning breeze but from the silence between the newlyweds. Jungkook lay awake, her eyes staring blankly at the silk canopy above her. The bed remained untouched between them, a clear line separating her from the Crown Prince, her husband, who had not spoken a single word to her since the wedding ceremony.

She barely moved, her body sore in places that had nothing to do with a wedding night but rather the punishment that led to it. The bruises on her arms throbbed beneath the layers of silk, a quiet reminder that her resistance had meant nothing.

The sound of movement pulled her attention to the man beside her. Seokjin had already risen, fully dressed, his posture straight as if the burden of the entire kingdom sat on his shoulders. He didn’t even glance at her as he strode toward the door.

A soft knock echoed through the chamber.

"Your Highness, Lady Ji is here," Yeonjun’s voice announced from outside.

Seokjin opened the door without hesitation, stepping out as if she did not exist.

Jungkook turned her head slightly, just enough to hear them.

"There will be expectations," Seokjin said, his voice cold and void of emotion. "Rumors will spread if this is not handled properly."

Lady Ji’s voice was calm but firm. "The palace will need proof, Your Highness. What shall I do?"

Jungkook clenched the sheets in her fists, her breath catching in her throat. Proof? Proof of what? That he had touched her? That she had submitted to him like a good wife?

Her fingers trembled as she listened.

"Take care of it," he commanded. "Make sure no one questions last night. The court will assume what it wants to assume, let them. But silence any talk that contradicts it."

Jungkook’s stomach twisted. He spoke as if she were nothing but an inconvenience, a pawn he had been forced to take into his palace.

Then came his next words, ones that sent a chill down her spine.

"Yeonjun," he continued, his voice still impassive. "Get Beomgyu. I want her watched at all times."

Jungkook's breath hitched.

Watched?

Her chest tightened. She had already lost her freedom in her family home, but now, in this golden cage, she wouldn’t even be allowed to breathe without permission.

She was alone. Completely, utterly alone.

Seokjin did not return to the chamber. The moment he finished speaking, he walked away, his presence disappearing like a shadow at sunrise.

Inside, Jungkook swallowed down the lump in her throat, pressing her nails into her palms to keep herself from trembling.

Her father had forced her into this marriage, but it seemed her husband was no different.

If she had hoped for even the smallest bit of understanding, Crown Prince Seokjin had crushed that hope with a single order.