A Vow Unbroken: Never Forgiving, Always Loving

The first year when I was sent to Northern Land as part of a political marriage, Oliver Pettyfer wed his beloved Princess Sara Simons.

I was merely a stand-in princess, marrying off to the barbarian tribe in her place.

By the third year of the political marriage, Oliver's troops had conquered Northern Land, and I encountered him, this old acquaintance.

At this point, I had long since become a wife and mother.

Seeing me, heavily pregnant and desperately protecting my husband, he was on the verge of tears.

He grasped me tightly, his hands trembling as he caressed my face. "Come back to Lankersdom with me, or your husband and child will die."

I turned away, scoffing, "Stop with the pretense. Anyone would think you actually care about me."

***

I was born an abandoned child and later became a courtesan, existing in the lowest and most wretched sphere of society.

I was accustomed to the ugly side of human nature. To insincerity, my heart remained numb and still.

It was Oliver who wove a dazzling dream for me.

He made me believe that someone could truly care for me, that as long as I was good, everything would be alright.

In the end, it was all an illusion. He loved the exalted Sara, not me, the outcast.

He deemed me filthy, only ever treating me as a plaything for his empty moments.

He loved Sara, but that was something I was unaware of. As for my love for him, that was something only I knew.

Sara was forced into a marriage with the head of the Yecrak nationality, which he could neither accept nor tolerate, given that she was to marry a half-dead old man of Yecrak nationality.

Thus, Oliver cast me aside like an insignificant object, sending me to the distant Northern Land.

I hated Oliver for never loving me, for giving me light only to cast me into the abyss, and for abandoning me.

Before the envoy left the palace, I got out of the carriage to look back at the city where I had spent half my life.

It was bustling with splendor, but what did it have to do with me?

I resembled Sara to some extent, yet lived an entirely different life.

I sent a message to Oliver, asking him to come see me off. I wanted to remember his heartless face.

From now on, I would never again allow myself to be swayed by a man.

Only in becoming Sara for this fleeting moment could I dare to speak so harshly to him.

Oliver lifted the curtain of the carriage, gazing at me with the same tender eyes as before.

Seeing those eyes again, I still felt a pull, making it hard to resist. As his gaze lingered, I took out a hairpin and thrust it into his right shoulder.

His handsome face showed a mix of disbelief and sorrow, tears welling up in his eyes.

But I would no longer feel pity for him.

I laughed aloud. "Oliver, this is the first time I've called you by name, and it will be the last. You once saved me from peril and then personally threw me into a bottomless abyss.

"You care for Sara enough to ensure she doesn't marry an old man and risk death. But me? I am so insignificant in your eyes that you can discard me at will. I loved you deeply, considering you my one and only. It's better this way—I won't be deceived by your feigned affection anymore. We're clear now. We will never meet again. I hope you find happiness with your true love."

Seeing my words hit home, Olive showed rare signs of anguish and indecision.

He opened his mouth, seemingly about to speak, but I ordered the convoy to move on before he could.

As the envoy grew distant, I did not look back.

The spring scenery was beautiful, the perfect season for weddings.

I thought, "At the moment of my departure, does he feel a pang of regret for me, or is he simply relieved to keep his true love?

It must be the former.

So be it.

What happened yesterday is as dead as yesterday itself. Today is a new beginning."