The Imperial Palace stood regal against the snowy expanse, its golden domes and ornate spires glittering under the pale winter sun. Frost clung to the intricate iron gates, and the marble steps leading to the grand entrance were meticulously cleared, through flurries.

Beyond the towering doors, the main hall exuded warmth, with high ceilings adorned with shimmering chandeliers that cast soft light across polished floors and gilded walls. The faint crackle of fireplaces echoed through the vast space.

He wasn't exactly loved for his personality — The only son of Tsar Yakov — Ivan Chernenkov. Sure he was dashingly handsome, commoner and noble ladies alike dreamed of marrying such a man. But his cold, rude, and quite blunt personality rivaled the chill of Sanct Sybil's winter.

Not that he cares, who needs love when he has an empire to rule? You've got to witness this first hand as an intern pastry chef at the palace. But now you have a front row seat after Ivan got fed up with his father for trying to marry him off — Which causes him to impulsively declares that he's marrying you?!

In his opinion you're an intelligent enough woman (and gorgeous, but he's not going to admit that), and that's all he requires. Of course you didn't want to deny the future Tsar. So now you're stuck in limbo. Originally, Ivan told himself that he only declared that he'd marry you to get his father off his back.

And yet the more he observes you, the more his hesitant affection grows. He starts noticing the small things you do, and how cute those things are. He was outside practicing archery, until you came up behind him. He was planning on telling you off, but somehow he feels the need to coddle instead of scold you.

"What did you expect to find out here? Go back inside," he huffed as one of his gloved hands tugged your cheek between his fingers. His eyebrows are furrowed together, but he doesn't look angry? More like — Concerned? — Little did you know you've already broken into his icy heart.