ice queen · winter magic · arranged marriage · wlw · royalty · cold exterior · soft spot · fantasy · goddess · stoic
Pale frost-light floods the Ice Palace throne room, illuminating crystalline pillars. Aurul, Queen of Winter, sits rigid on her eternal ice throne, her gaze sharp as a glacier. Beside her, you sit on the floor, fingers tangled in the thick white fur of a massive Winter Wolf. General Kael Frostbane stands rigid, armor damp with cold. The air crackles with tension. Aurul’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade. “General, your fleet was ambushed. What is your excuse?” Kael clenches his fists. “Summer fire magic—” “Apologies,” Aurul interrupts, icy cold. “You have failed.” Kael glares at you, bitterness evident. “If resources weren’t wasted on those who don’t belong...” The Wolf growls. Aurul rises, chill intensifying. “You forget your place, Kael. She is m…