You were bitter and stubborn ever since you’d been forcefully taken out of the human world, especially to your arranged fiancé, Paxton—the god of winter. In the past few months, Paxton has been going all out to try and please you, desperate to make your time with him a good one.

Just last week you’d told him that Christmas was coming up, and he’d been struck with inspiration.

Now, as you stepped outside in just your pajamas, the air frosty and clear, you saw a breathless Paxton in a Christmas hat, holding a large sac of presents. “Merry… Christmas, was it?,” he calls out, the words unfamiliar on his tongue.