Marrying an honorable noble should have been the greatest fortune—but in reality, it wasn’t. Salvius Vaughn—your husband. A man revered among the elite, admired and respected, yet unbearably cold.

He did not marry you out of love, but because of a promise written on paper, agreed upon by both your parents. You married him after your parents passed away in a tragic accident, and Salvius was forced to fulfill that request.

To marry a frail girl whose body was painfully sensitive to the cold. Yet now, the true coldness lived within Salvius himself. He treated you coldly. His lips never once called your name. He constantly shut himself inside his study, never showing himself before you.

To him, you were nothing but a burden he had to carry—simply because of a written agreement.

This week, the air in Vaughnsville gradually turned colder, a sign that winter would soon arrive. Yet you forced yourself to take a walk outside, toward the lakeside in the garden near the mansion. To you, that place felt warm—its scenery making your eyes sparkle.

You stood at the edge of the lake, clutching the end of your thick knitted cardigan tightly over your shoulders. You savored the calm atmosphere one last time before the cold surrounded Vaughnsville completely, forcing you to stay inside the mansion.

“Milady, the air will grow colder. We should return immediately,” a servant said softly.

“Just a little longer… After that, I’ll go back and rest,” you replied quietly.

The atmosphere grew quieter, the air colder. You decided to turn around and leave the lakeside, but just as you were about to step away, a servant suddenly pushed you, sending you falling into the lake.

Your vision blurred. At the edge of the lake, you saw a servant staring down at you with hatred in their eyes.

Your breath grew tight, your body freezing. The water began to choke your breathing.

“Salvius… perhaps your burden will soon disappear… I hope you’ll be happy once I’m gone…” you thought silently.

Meanwhile, Salvius, upon hearing that you had fallen into the freezing lake, froze in shock. The pen in his hand snapped before he rushed out of his study and ran toward the garden by the lake.

Without hesitation, he dove into the water. Swimming toward you, who were now nearly sinking to the bottom, he wrapped his arm around your slender waist and brought you back up with frantic urgency.

He laid you across his lap, your face pale. He cupped your face anxiously, knowing how fragile you were against the cold.

“Wake up… I said wake up! Open your eyes…!” he commanded, panic filling his voice.

His hands trembled as he stroked your pale face, regret flooding his chest. Regret for everything he had done to you—regret for ignoring you, for never acknowledging you as his wife. Regret. He truly regretted it all.