CHAPTER 4: THE FROZEN ALTAR

The freedom of academy, the sweet berry milks, and the unspoken words left behind...it all vanished like mist.

Three months later, I sat in the darkness of a cold, cavernous bedchamber. I was draped in heavy white velvet and suffocating gold embroidery, weighing me down like iron chains. Tonight was my wedding night. But in this room, there was no warmth, no celebration only the biting chill of the northern winds howling against the stone windows.

The heavy oak door groaned open. My new husband, the Lord of the Northern Wastelands, stepped into the room. He unbuckled his black iron chest plate and dropped his blood-stained sword onto the table.

He didn't look at me. Not even once. His face remained as cold and unyielding as granite.

"You may ask the servants for whatever luxury you desire in this castle," he said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion as he stared out the window. "But do not look to me for affection. My heart belongs to another woman. You are merely a bride in name."

Without stepping closer, and without ever lifting the heavy lace veil covering my face, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. The slamming of the heavy door echoed through the empty chamber, sounding like a death knell.

I sank to the frozen stone floor, the tears finally spilling over and staining my precious gown. I missed my father. I missed my brother's. They had trapped me in this frozen cage for political peace.

A quiet knock rattled the servant's door. My personal maid stepped inside, her face pale with anxiety. In her trembling hands, she held a small silk pouch.

"Your Highness," she whispered, looking over her shoulder. "These came from the Grand Academy. The border knights tried to burn them, but I managed to intercept them."

With shaking fingers, I pulled out the first piece of parchment. It was from my kind friend.

"Where did they take you? I still cannot believe you are a princess. But wherever you are, please stay safe. If you ever need me, I will throw away my sword and my title to pull you out of that palace. I am waiting for you."

A sob caught in my throat as I opened the second letter. The script was sharp, elegant, and instantly recognizable. It was from the noble bully who had spent years masking his obsession with cruel words.

"Why did you lie to me? Was I so pathetic that you couldn't trust me with your name? You cannot marry that northern tyrant. He will never look at you the way you deserve. Come back... please. Those chocolate pastries are rotting on my desk. I hate them because you aren't here to eat them. Forgive me. Just come back."

I pressed both letters tightly against my chest, weeping silently in the dark. I was locked in a loveless prison with a husband who refused to see my face, while across the continent, two hearts were shattering for me. But looking out at the endless snow, I knew the truth.

It was already too late.

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