The sound of footsteps echoed sharply down the frost-lit corridor, a staccato rhythm of desperate pursuit.
"Your Majesty—please reconsider!"
"My Queen, think of the precedent this will set—"
"This cannot be allowed! Not with a human!"
The voices overlapped, a chorus of panic and disbelief, but the woman at their center didn't so much as glance back.
The Ice Dragon Monarch walked at her own pace, every step an exercise in calm amusement.
Her long white cloak trailed behind her like a sheet of snow, brushing against the cold stone floors.
The nobles and advisors scrambled after her, their fine robes swishing, their words tripping over one another in their frantic attempt to sway her.
And yet, she might as well have been deaf.
Her expression was that of someone strolling through a garden, not someone who had just detonated one of the most controversial declarations in living memory.
Marry a human.
Even thinking the words made several of the nobles want to choke.
One advisor—an older dragon in human guise, his beard a shimmering silver that marked his long service in the court—lunged half a step forward. "Your Majesty, please! If you mean to provoke the council, there are other ways! Less… disastrous ways!"
No response.
Another noble tried, his voice edged with desperation: "The people will never accept this! Already the Winter Trade Blockade gnaws at our resources. Must we invite unrest from within as well?"
Still, she ignored them.
Her eyes, pale as polished ice, stared forward, almost sparkling with the faintest hint of mischief.
It was that glimmer, more than anything, that terrified them.
Because they knew her.
And they knew that glimmer never meant anything good.
The corridor stretched onward, lined with frozen torches that glowed with pale blue flames. Frost ran in delicate veins up the stone walls, catching the light. At the end of the passage stood a set of towering doors wrought from white steel and engraved with curling dragon sigils.
The Queen's private quarters.
No one entered there without her permission. Not even the high council dared.
She stopped in front of the doors, at last turning. The motion was unhurried, deliberate, and the nobles almost stumbled over one another as they froze in place.
Her gaze swept them slowly, like a blade across throats.
"You are all making such noise," she said softly, her voice smooth as ice water. "One might think you were worried for my well-being."
A ripple of unease passed through them. They bowed, muttered denials, assurances.
She tilted her head, the faintest smile touching her lips. "Marriage is tradition, isn't it? You've hounded me for years to fulfill it. And now I have chosen. Is that not what you wanted?"
The words were reasonable. Perfectly reasonable.
But the lilt of her tone—mocking, playful—twisted them into a taunt.
A noblewoman wrung her hands, trying to find words. "But a human—"
The Queen's smile sharpened. "Oh? I don't recall specifying the race of my husband being part of tradition."
Silence.
Her eyes glittered, satisfied. "Then, as Queen, I am fulfilling my duty. You should be grateful."
And with that, she turned, white cloak sweeping like a blade through the air. The doors groaned open at her approach, and she slipped inside without a backward glance.
The heavy slabs of steel slammed shut behind her.
The nobles were left in the corridor, their breath fogging in the icy air, their faces a mixture of dread, disbelief, and impotent fury.
"She's lost her mind," one whispered.
Another shook his head bitterly. "No. This is worse. She knows exactly what she's doing."
Inside, the atmosphere shifted.
The Queen's quarters were quiet, the chaos of the court muffled into nothing. Pale light filtered through frost-veined windows, casting long shadows across the room. Furs and silks draped the furniture, blending comfort with cold elegance. A single fire burned in the hearth, its flames white-blue, offering no warmth but glowing brilliantly all the same.
Only one other soul was allowed inside.
Daphne.
The Queen's knight, her shadow, her one constant. She followed behind, her armor clicking softly against the floor, the polished silver catching the frostlight.
The Queen lowered herself into a carved chair near the fire, her body language utterly relaxed, her satisfaction practically radiating from her posture. She leaned her chin against one hand, lips curled in faint amusement.
For a time, silence stretched.
Then, without looking up, she asked lazily, "Well? Are you going to say anything?"
Daphne's face was composed, but her steps were steady and purposeful as she crossed the room.
She didn't stop until she reached the opposite chair and sat, eyes fixed firmly on her Queen.
Finally, she spoke. "I knew you would one day pick some random man to marry, just to spite the council. I've been bracing myself for that for years." Her tone was dry, unimpressed. "But a human?"
The Queen's lips curved. She shrugged. "What? I wanted to keep things spicy."
Daphne stared at her for a long moment, unblinking. "Do you realize what you've done? You know the history between dragons and humans. You know what this will stir among our people. This isn't just provocation—it's… reckless."
"Oh, come now," the Queen sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "When did you grow so boring, Daph? Who cares what they think? I'm merely fulfilling my 'sacred duty'."
Daphne snorted softly. "We both know that's bullshit."
The Queen smirked. "Perhaps."
Her gaze drifted lazily toward the fire, eyes gleaming faintly with amusement. For her, this was a game. A delightful piece of chaos to throw into the carefully ordered lives of the council.
But Daphne wasn't so easily distracted.
Her voice was level, her expression sharp. "How did the human even get into your cave?"
The Queen's smirk widened. "I don't know. I just found him there."
Daphne blinked. "You… just found him?"
"That's right. He was standing in my vault, trembling like a rabbit."
Daphne's eyes narrowed. "So you have no idea where he came from. No idea what his purpose is. And yet you took him under your roof—and announced marriage."
"Pretty much." The Queen inspected her nails, her voice dripping with disinterest.
"…You're insane."
"Mm. Possibly."
The Queen stood abruptly, her cloak whispering against the floor as she stretched her arms above her head.
Her posture was languid, almost feline. Then she sighed, bored.
"You're beginning to bore me, too. Enough lectures."
Her eyes gleamed with sudden mischief as she turned toward the door.
"Let's go play with the human. His fear always amuses me."
Daphne's lips pressed into a thin line, but she rose all the same, following her Queen out into the frozen halls.