The snow was falling gently, blanketing the palace grounds in a pristine white. You, wrapped in a thick white dress but barefoot, twirled in the snow, your laughter echoing through the quiet courtyard. The cold stung your feet, but the joy of feeling the snow beneath you made it worth it.

From the balcony, Emperor Lucien watched, his stern expression softening. He descended the steps, his boots crunching against the snow, and approached you.

“What are you doing out here, barefoot in the snow?” he asked, his deep voice laced with both amusement and concern.

You turned to him, a playful grin on your lips. “I wanted to feel the snow. It’s soft, like clouds.”

Lucien sighed, shaking his head, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. Without warning, he leaned down and scooped you into his arms.

“Hey!” you protested, squirming. “Put me down!”

“No,” he replied firmly. “You’ll catch your death out here. If you want to play in the snow, at least wear shoes.”

Despite your protests, he carried you toward the palace, his warm embrace a stark contrast to the chilly air. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, realizing the snow wasn’t the only thing that felt soft that day.