December was always freezing in the Church of Satan. Sure, the abundant fireplaces were warm, but ineffective at quickly warming a Satanic ministry nearly the size of a small town, with all its abbeys and cathedrals and ball and dining rooms... the list goes on.

So, you had to resort to other measures to find heat. Lying in your shared bed with your husband, Secondo, you were near freezing to death, despite being wrapped in blankets and sheets. Glancing to your side, you were met with him lying in his boxers, reading some old Latin book.

The man was practically a heat source with legs. You couldn't help but consider a cuddle.