Jiyeon's knee bounced against the plush fabric of the armchair, a nervous rhythm to match the frantic beat of her heart. On the holographic viewscreen before her, her built-in computer companion, Nani, remained silent, the digital equivalent of a shrug.
Three hours.
Three hours she'd been sitting here, trussed up in a luxurious white wedding dress that billowed around her like a cloud. The silk shimmered under the soft room lights, adorned with intricate lace patterns that climbed up the sleeves and bodice. Her dark brown hair was carefully pinned back under a long, glistening white veil, catching the light with every slight movement of her head. Delicate makeup, precise and artistic, made her look like a ghostly figure from a Victorian Era painting, all ethereal beauty and quiet despair.
"Any word, Nani?" she whispered, her voice tight.
Nani's calm, synthesized voice responded, "No update, Jiyeon. Mr. Lee's location remains undetermined."
"Undetermined," Jiyeon scoffed, her lip biting down hard.
Minwoo was supposed to be here. He was supposed to be her husband by now. Their families, both prominent in the Seoul business world, had arranged this marriage weeks ago. It wasn't about love; it was about merging assets, solidifying their standing. But now, with less than six hours until her twenty-first birthday, Minwoo was a no-show.
Suddenly, Nani's display flickered, then an alert chimed. "Incoming message from Minwoo Lee," Nani announced.
Jiyeon practically lunged for the screen, her finger jabbing the 'open' icon. "Finally! He'd better have a good excuse for being this late."
The message popped up, not a video call, just text. Jiyeon scanned the first few lines, then her breath hitched. Her stomach churned, a cold, hard knot forming deep inside her. He hadn't just stood her up. He'd gone off to elope.
With her younger sister.
She felt sick, a dizzying wave washing over her, but it wasn't the pain of a broken heart. Their engagement had been a formality, a strategic move. No, the nausea stemmed from a far more primal fear.
The "married by twenty-one" law.
It had been the law of the land for fifty years, ever since the mysterious population destruction that had ravaged humanity. Five hundred million people, gone, simply vanished over the course of a year.
The world had never recovered.
Children, especially, had been lost in staggering numbers. The government, in a desperate attempt to repopulate, had enacted the law: every woman must be married before her twenty-first birthday. If not, she would be randomly matched with a stranger and forced to marry them immediately. And the worst part? Divorce was nearly impossible if you didn't have two children.
Jiyeon shuddered at the thought of those random matches. The stories circulated like urban legends: old creeps, men with questionable pasts, individuals no one would choose willingly.
And tomorrow was her birthday.
Six hours.
She had six hours to find a husband.
Panic began to claw at her throat. Who? Who on earth would marry her in the next few hours? Her mind raced, sifting through names, faces, possibilities.
Then, a name flashed through her mind like lightning.
Dohwa Yoo.
Dohwa. He'd been her friend since high school. His family was incredibly wealthy, a perfect substitute for the Lees. Her parents would surely accept the switch. And Dohwa… he wouldn't mind, would he? She remembered their joke in their third year of high school about marrying each other if they hadn't found anyone else.
It hadn't been that long ago.
"Nani, locate Dohwa Yoo," Jiyeon commanded, her voice regaining a desperate edge of hope.
A moment passed, then Nani replied, "Dohwa Yoo is currently at his private residence."
Jiyeon frowned. "At home? Hadn't he been invited to the wedding?"
"Mr. Yoo sent a message two days prior," Nani informed her, "stating he had come down with a cold and would be unable to attend. He specified a friend would substitute for his absence."
"Damnit!" Jiyeon groaned, frustration bubbling up.
Dohwa, sick. Of course. Just her luck.
She scrambled out of the armchair, the elegant dress suddenly feeling like a suffocating shroud. She had to move. She had to find someone. She burst from her room, the long train of her gown trailing behind her as she hurried down the grand hallway of the wedding venue.
Who? Who could possibly marry me now?
And then she saw him.
He stood just outside the main hall's entrance, his back to her, finishing a call on a sleek communicator. He was tall, over six feet, a commanding presence even from a distance. His black hair was neatly combed back, revealing a sharp, intelligent profile.
As he shifted slightly, she caught a glimpse of his eyes—a striking, almost purple-blue hue against his smooth, pale skin. A small, distinctive birthmark rested just under his left eye. He was impeccably dressed in a tailor-made white suit that fit him like a second skin, and on his wrist gleamed a seemingly expensive watch.
Husband material, definitely, a wild, desperate thought flared in her mind.
Without another thought, Jiyeon hiked up her wedding dress and sprinted towards him, her veil flapping behind her.
"Sir! Sir!" she yelled, her voice breathless.
The man turned, his expression unreadable as she closed the distance between them. Before he could react, she launched herself forward, throwing her arms around his middle, burying her face against his chest. Her eyes, wide and pleading, looked up at him, desperation in them.
"Please," she gasped, the single word a raw, unfiltered cry from her soul. "Marry me!"
The man, caught completely off guard, froze. His lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise in those piercing purple-blue eyes. He simply stared down at her, his gaze intense, assessing. Jiyeon, tangled in his arms, felt her own panic spike.
What have I done? Her mind screamed. This is insane! She opened her mouth, ready to blurt out a retraction, an apology, anything to take back her impulsive, desperate words.
But before she could utter a sound, he spoke. His voice was deep, smooth, and surprisingly calm.
"I'll marry you."