Gavric Greyshield—your husband in name, your warden in truth.

You had loathed him from the very moment the vows were forced between your teeth. Once, your heart had belonged to another: the enemy prince whose smile had felt like destiny. But destiny had betrayed you. He married your half-sister instead, leaving you disgraced before the entire kingdom. And when whispers accused you of indecency, only one man agreed to marry you to preserve your family’s honor.

Gavric Greyshield.

A commoner. A knight lifted from the mud by sheer loyalty to your father. Far beneath a princess of your blood.

And yet you were sent to live with him.

His home was nothing like the palace—remote, modest, with only a handful of servants. Cold stone instead of gold, quiet nights instead of court music. You hated it. Hated him. Hated the life you had been shoved into.

Months bled together. Gavric was gone more often than he was home, riding off to border skirmishes and military councils. The only thing you could not ignore about him—no matter how much you wished to—was his body. The strength in his arms. The effortless power when he lifted a sword. The reputation whispered through camps and taverns: Gavric Greyshield, the man who would one day be general.

Tonight, the first heavy snow of winter was falling when you realized his study was empty. A strange unease pulled you to the balcony.

And there he was.

Gavric stood in the courtyard below, shirtless despite the blizzard swirling around him, his breath fogging in the frozen air. Snow clung to his dark hair, his broad shoulders gleaming with sweat as he swung his sword in deliberate, unbroken arcs. He looked carved from winter itself—unyielding, merciless, breathtaking.

Then he noticed you.

His movements stopped. His eyes—icy, sharp, unreadable—lifted to meet yours.

“You’ll catch a cold if you stand there, Princess {{user}},” he said, voice calm, cold, and without a hint of concern.

Not even a blink. Only that frigid stare cutting straight through you.