Chapter 2

The heavy doors of the Flame-Gold Chamber slammed shut.

Once, it was a sanctuary belonging only to me and Callum.

But ever since Ignis arrived, these doors no longer open for me.

Callum carried Ignis inside, shutting me out completely.

I had been reduced to a dancer at Ignis's beck and call, stripped of all the dignity owed to a Winter Court Princess and a fated mate.

If Ignis so much as whined to Callum about feeling restless, I was forced to appear, chanting in the Winter tongue and performing the Frost-Pattern Dance for her amusement.

Callum turned the Winter Court's most sacred ritual into a cheap parlor trick to earn a smile from his new lover.

Whenever I hesitated, he would threaten the safety of the Winter Court.

He had forgotten his vow to protect me and my court for eternity. Now, he was the one holding the blade to our throats.

Six years ago, during the Summer Court's civil war, Callum had knelt on the frozen plains of my homeland, covered in his own blood, begging for aid.

He had gripped my wrist with desperate strength, baring our mate-bond mark, and invoked the name of "fated mates" to plead for my father's help.

My father had refused at first. The Winter Court never involved itself in Southern conflicts.

But because Callum and I were in love—because we were bound by the mate contract—my father was forced to deploy the Frost Tide Army.

Though our absolute ice-magic suppressed the rebel fires and secured Callum's throne, the cost was devastating. The Winter Court was severely weakened, and an unhealing rift was torn open in the Northern Star Boundary.

"I will never use the Winter Court as a bargaining chip," he had sworn, cradling my face in his hands. "As long as I live, I will never let you suffer a single grievance."

Now, Ignis was here.

And every word he ever promised meant nothing.

Now, he spat that my Winter blood was "bad luck," using my people as leverage to force me to dance.

Inside the chamber, Callum hovered protectively over Ignis.

He even suppressed his high-tier Sun-flame to gently warm her hands himself, treating her like the most fragile, precious treasure. I hadn't seen that look on his face in a very long time.

During our early years together, Callum had doted on me with that same tender care. No matter how wild his fire raged, he would forcefully suppress it, terrified of causing me even the slightest discomfort.

He used to whisper, "Don't be afraid. My fire will learn to be gentle for you."

Now, he had given that gentleness entirely to someone else.

Ignis nestled into Callum's embrace, her voice frail and breathless. "Please don't blame her. It's just that I can't tolerate the cold since I became pregnant. Do you think she'll be angry with me?"

"If she makes you uncomfortable, it's her fault, and she should be punished," Callum replied, his tone devoid of any emotion. "She's just relying on my past indulgence to play the victim. She's a Princess of Winter. The cold won't kill her."

Hearing those words, I felt nothing but a dead, terrifying chill.

Death was already clawing at me, yet in his eyes, it was nothing more than a cheap trick for attention.

There was a time when he would drop everything at the mere furrow of my brow just to check on me. Now, my breath was literally turning to frost, and he treated it like a joke.

Ignis's lips curled into a triumphant smile, but she kept prodding. "When she gets out of the ice well, will she try to retaliate? She is still technically the High Lady, after all."

"Let her try," Callum said, his voice dropping to a dark growl. "Without my permission, no one is letting her out."

And then, he delivered the promise that shattered everything: "Once you give birth to my child, I will strip her of her title. As for the mate-bond... I will sever it myself."

"She has occupied that seat for so long without giving me an heir. The Winter Court really does bring nothing but curses. I should have broken the bond with her ages ago."

That was the death sentence he had pinned on me.

Yet, beneath my freezing skin, there was a child. Our child. And he had just personally condemned both of us to freeze to death at the bottom of an ice well.

Looking back, the fall had been agonizingly slow and cruel.

Shortly after Ignis arrived, Callum claimed my constitution couldn't handle the Summer fire, using it as an excuse to exile me from the Flame-Gold Chamber to a cold, drafty side-palace.

His visits faded from daily reassurances, to once every few months, to nothing at all. Now, he only summoned me to serve as entertainment for his new lover.

He used to say to me, "As long as there is breath in my lungs, you will never suffer a moment's grievance in this court."

Only now, he was whispering those exact same words to Ignis.

The very vows forged to protect me had become the blade meant to slaughter me.

"High Lord! The High Lady in the ice well... she's not moving!"

A frantic servant burst into the room, shattering Callum and Ignis's tender moment.

Callum paused. "What did you say?"

Then, he frowned, his face darkening with deep irritation.

"So let her be. She's Winter-born. What's so strange about her sitting in the ice?"

Terrified by Callum's glare, the servant stammered an explanation. "But... the High Lady's eyes are locked shut. She's entirely covered in frost, and... and they can't even find a pulse."

Callum completely stilled. The room fell into a dead silence.

Then, his face entirely unreadable, he abruptly stood up, snatched his heavy cloak, and strode toward the door to see for himself.