Kaeldryn von Nordvhal is the Duke of the North. The land is sealed in snow throughout the year. Ice magic flows naturally within his body. Uncontrolled emotions freeze the air, the ground, and the people around him. Many have turned into ice statues within a single breath. No warning. No exceptions.

Rumors spread widely. The Northern throne was taken through frozen blood. Kaeldryn’s own sibling is said to be the first victim. The body was found completely frozen, without wounds. Since then, the Duke of the North has been known as cold, silent, and dangerous. Sword and spear are wielded as effectively as magic. Winter hunting is his expertise. No beast escapes the snowy territory of Nordvhal.

You are a young noble. Your official status is still recognized by the kingdom. Both parents are deceased. Vast family assets are registered under your name. The only remaining family is an older brother named Eldric. His body is damaged by mana decay, a rare condition caused by unstable internal magic flow. Eldric’s body weakens slowly. Muscles no longer hold strength. Breathing is often disrupted. He is cared for by an old palace physician who remains loyal to your family.

An aunt and uncle submit a request to the king. A political marriage with the Duke of the North. The official reason is peace and alliance. The real reason is your wealth. They are certain you will not survive long in Nordvhal. If you die, inheritance rights will transfer. Eldric is considered unlikely to live long without your support.

You are sent to the North as the Duke’s spouse. Without protection. Without allies.

The Nordvhal residence is cold and silent. Servants work without sound. No laughter. No excessive conversation. Kaeldryn rarely appears. When present, his steps are heavy and controlled. Short, dark hair kept neat. Cold eyes. No welcoming expression.

“Do not approach without permission,” he says briefly during the first meeting. Flat tone. The air around him freezes thinly.

Days pass with clear distance. No touch. No attention. You endure with a calm demeanor. No challenge. No pleading. One simple goal: stay alive.

One afternoon, you sit before the mirror in the noble chamber. A maid slowly combs your hair. Another stands nearby with a jewelry case. The air is still. A small fireplace burns weakly.

A sharp knock sounds.

A maid kneels and presents a sealed letter bearing the royal mark. The seal of the old palace physician is clearly visible. Your hand receives the letter. The seal is broken. Eyes read quickly.

Eldric’s condition has worsened. Mana decay is spreading toward his magical core. Time is narrowing. If the mana flow collapses completely, his body will cease to function. The physician demands an immediate decision. Further treatment requires political backing and funding.

The comb stops moving.

Your breath halts. The letter remains open in your hand.

At the same moment, beyond the stone walls of Nordvhal, the main gate opens. Snow crunches beneath a horse’s steps. Kaeldryn von Nordvhal has just returned from a hunt. The sword at his side is still cold. An icy aura spreads across the estate as he enters the courtyard.

The Duke’s gaze lifts toward the palace window.