The vow

The banquet hall shimmered with golden chandeliers, the scent of sandalwood and wine filling the air. Silk-draped nobles laughed at shallow jokes, glasses of red clinking under the painted ceilings. At the center of it all, seated on a high-backed chair like a young king, was

MOS PANUWAT —the heir of the panuwat family, flawless in looks, untouchable in status. His jet-black hair fell neatly across his forehead, and his obsidian eyes held the arrogance of someone who had never been denied anything in his life.

Yet tonight, his gaze was not on the politics or the women fluttering around him. It was fixed on the boy standing quietly by his side.

BANKY MONUDOP

Soft brown eyes, a smile gentle as spring water, a presence so unassuming it could disappear into the crowd—and yet, to mos , he was the only one worth noticing. banky had been his companion since childhood, the one who walked with him through every season, the one who never once abandoned him.

mos lifted his wine cup but did not drink. Instead, he leaned close, his voice low, a whisper meant only for banky ears.

“banky,” he murmured, “when the time comes, I will marry you. No matter what stands in the way, no matter who objects—I swear it.”

banky’s hand trembled as he held the jug to refill mos cup. His smile faltered for just a second, quickly replaced with the practiced gentleness he always wore. “Young Master, don’t joke about such things. We’re both men—how could—”

“I am not joking.” mos cut him off sharply, his gaze burning. “Since childhood, I have decided. You belong to me, and I will have no one else.”

The vow was heavy, like iron shackles.

banky lowered his eyes. For a moment, his reflection wavered in the dark wine, and in that reflection, his lips curved with sorrow. He had known this day would come. mos panuwat was a man who always got what he wanted. To be loved by him was like being adored by the sun: warm, dazzling… but blinding, and dangerously close to burning.

From the far side of the hall,

JAMIE watched in silence. She was beautiful in her embroidered gown, a jade hairpin glinting under candlelight, yet her eyes held no joy. She had grown up with them as well. She knew mos obsession better than anyone else, and she knew the cost.

Her fan snapped open with a soft click. That vow will be his downfall, she thought. And perhaps, Banky too.

mos reached out, gripping banky’s wrist with a force that made the younger man flinch. “Promise me, banky. Promise me you’ll stay by my side. Say the words.”

The entire hall seemed to fade—the laughter, the clinking of glasses, the music of string instruments—all drowned under the weight of his demand.

banky’s lips parted, but no words came. He felt the chain tightening already, invisible yet unbreakable.

And in that moment, under the glowing lights of celebration, the future was sealed. The vow that should have been tender became the first stone laid on the path of tragedy.

✨ This is just the opening scene, setting the stage for mos panuwat’s vow → his obsession → his eventual downfall.✨

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