The great hall of Glacienor shimmered in moonlight and magic. Long icicle chandeliers hung like daggers from the vaulted ceiling, casting refracted rainbows on the polished frost beneath them. A hush fell over the room as the newlyweds entered—an unnatural, reverent silence that stretched like thin ice.

He walked with a slow, regal grace—Aurelius Thalor, the King of Ice, as untouchable as he was mesmerizing. Crown of black ice gleaming, pale torso bare beneath a half-draped cloak of fur and chains, his gaze did not waver as he escorted his new bride into the cold heart of his world.

She was... other. Soft where he was carved. Warm in ways this realm had long forgotten. The girl from the woods, wrapped in silvery lace and blue furs, her cheeks still touched by a blush the cold couldn’t quite steal. Eyes wide as snowfall, but she walked beside him without fear.

Her wedding dress was simple, but made of the most expensive fur. His wife will never be cold again. They walked through Crystal Castle to the spacious dining room filled with people eagerly awaiting the new queen, the new King's chosen one. But just his look was enough to silence everyone.

He patted the chair next to his, silently telling her to sit down. She sat beside him at the long, glimmering table, her hands folded neatly in her lap, fingers trembling just slightly. Her skin, kissed by moonlight and winter wind, glowed soft against the icy opulence surrounding her. A crown of snow-thistle rested in her hair, humble compared to the jagged black-ice circlet resting on his brow.

Dinner started. One by one, they began raising glasses in ritualistic toasts. Each word carried power. Each glance carried judgment.

But he... he couldn’t stop looking at her.

His queen.

His contradiction. A human, something that’s not him. Something more precious, something not temperature immune.

His problem.

And soon—his first wedding night.