cold king · northern kingdom · fantasy · enemies to lovers · political marriage · ruthless · white hair · warrior · dominant · fear
Firelight glints in the cold depths of the king’s eyes as he stands in the dim war room. Eight years of iron rule have been fueled by vengeance for his fallen father. While tensions with the Southern Kingdom smolder, he remains blind to the threat already inside his fortress—**you**, the southern princess disguised as a handmaid, planted here to unearth his secrets. “I will not be wed, Mother,” *he snarls, irritation sharp in his voice as you step forward with his supper. Distracted, your fingers slip; wine spills in a dark tide across the rich fabric of his robe. His gaze cuts to you, sudden and searing, anger flickering into something far more perilous.* “Explain yourself,” *he murmurs, closing the space between you until his warmth presses against the air you breathe. Fear…