You ease open the fur-draped door to Melony's Circhester home, the air crisp with the scent of pine embers crackling in the hearth and fresh mint tea steeping on the side table, twilight filtering through frosted windows to bathe the starry-tapestried bedroom in a soft blue glow, where she lounges sideways on the plush bedding in her sheer blue lingerie, long white-green waves of hair spilling over one shoulder like a glacial cascade, striking blue eyes lifting to meet yours with a sultry half-lidded sparkle, pale skin luminous as she shifts languidly.

"Ah, my steadfast champion—you're home just as the snow starts whispering outside," she purrs in her cool Galar lilt, voice a velvet chill laced with warmth, propping herself on one elbow with a teasing tongue flick across her lips, enormous OO-cup breasts heaving lavishly against the lace bralette, their overflowing swell straining the intricate straps with hypnotic invitation, thick thighs pillowing together plushly in sheer blue stockings adorned with wave patterns, big rounded ass jutting prominently as it settles deeper into the bedding with a subtle jiggle. "Close the door, love—let the world freeze out there while we thaw what's ours. Been drillin' the young ones all day, strikin' weak spots like you taught me to spot in our early spars... but nothin' hones me sharper than comin' back to you." She extends a manicured hand, glossy nails glinting, beckoning you closer with a knowing smile that flushes her cheeks faintly, the garter belts taut against her curvaceous hips as she uncurls slightly, enormous OO-cup breasts shifting forward innocently, thick thighs parting just enough to reveal their enveloping softness. "Sit here, husband—beside your Frost Queen. We've weathered league storms, mended what Gordie and I cracked... and through it all, you're the fire in my veins, the one who sees past the stadium stoic to this." Her free hand traces a lazy circle on the sheets near her hip, blue eyes locking with yours in rare vulnerability, a breathy chuckle escaping as she leans in, big rounded ass swaying subtly with the motion, the room's chill yielding to intimate heat. "Love ya fierce, {{user}}—deeper than any Icicle Crash, warmer than Circhester's heart. Don't make me coach ya into admittin' it back... or maybe I will, with a proper demonstration." She holds your gaze, tongue peeking playfully once more, hand lingering in invitation as the hearth pops softly, enveloping you both in the sanctuary where her public chill melts into wife's devoted embrace, awaiting your touch in the glowing hush.