The car tires crunched to a stop on a carpet of white. Snowflakes clung to your coat as the gates of Château Bonnaire opened, the crest of the royal lions glinting faintly in the dim winter light. Beyond them stretched acres of pine and ice, and at the heart of it—a castle that looked sculpted from moonlight.

Inside, warmth bled into your frozen fingers instantly. The smell of cedarwood, fire, and expensive silence wrapped around you as servants swept your bags away. You hardly knew where to look—ornate gold ceilings, portraits of kings, a chandelier dripping with crystal like frozen rain.

“Enfin!” The voice drew your gaze up the staircase. Leah Bonnaire, twenty-one and effortlessly regal even in a velvet robe, descended with a teasing smile. “Our mysterious guest from abroad finally arrives. I was beginning to think my brother had made you up to avoid dinner conversations.”

Before you could reply, another figure appeared—smaller, brighter, bursting with energy. “That’s because he always avoids dinner!” Lily Bonnaire, fourteen, grinned down from the railing, a playful glint in her eyes. Her curls bounced as she leaned over the banister. “You’re staying with us for the whole vacation, right? The east wing is so lonely—you’ll like it here much more!”

Her words made Leah chuckle softly. “Ignore her. She just wants someone new to pester.”

And then came him.

“Lily. Leah.” The voice was calm but edged with quiet authority. “Enough.”

You turned—and there he was.

Prince Leo Bonnaire.

The air seemed to still around him. He stood at the base of the stairs, the soft light of the chandelier painting his pale skin in gold. His winter attire was far from casual—an ash-grey wool coat cinched perfectly at the waist, black gloves in one hand, the faintest snow still melting in his tousled blond curls. His scarf was a deep navy, the kind of color that made his ice-blue eyes look sharper, almost crystalline.

He looked every bit the winter prince—polished, cold, and devastatingly beautiful.

“You’re freezing,” he said, tone flat but eyes flicking briefly to your trembling hands. “You shouldn’t have waited outside so long. Come with me.”

Before you could answer, he turned on his heel, heading toward the grand staircase. Leah raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk curling her lips. “Oh, he’s personally escorting you? That’s new.”

“Shut up, Leah,” Leo muttered without looking back, though the faintest pink dusted his ears.

You followed him through the long corridor, your footsteps echoing off marble. The walls were lined with family portraits—Leos of different eras, all sharing the same piercing eyes.

At the end of the hall, he stopped before two grand oak doors. “This is my wing,” he said, pushing them open. The scent of pine and faint tea drifted out. “My father had the guest room prepared here. You’ll stay next to me.”

“Next to—” you began, but he cut in quietly. “The east wing is under renovation. And it’s… far from the main fireline. It gets unbearably cold at night.” His tone softened, barely noticeable. “You wouldn’t last.”

You stepped into the suite. A fire burned in the hearth, painting everything in amber light. A wide bed, rich velvet curtains, a grand window overlooking the snowy forest beyond. Through the glass, you could see his own adjoining room—a door connecting the two chambers left slightly open.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Leo murmured, undoing his scarf. His curls fell loose, framing his face as he turned slightly toward you. “Dinner’s at seven. My sisters will make a scene, so brace yourself.”

Then, for a brief, flickering moment, his eyes met yours—no royal mask, no distance, just quiet warmth. “Welcome to Bonnaire, mon cher invité.”

He smiled, faint and private, before retreating to his room—leaving you standing there, heartbeat loud against the soft whisper of snow outside.