By noon we had finally arrived at our destination. Houses appeared on both sides of the road, scattered across the landscape, their sloped roofs completely covered with thick blankets of pristine white snow. The vast, expansive fields that were normally used to farm crops during warmer seasons were now entirely piled high with snow, transforming the agricultural land into a winter wonderland. Children played joyfully outside despite the cold, making snow figures with their small hands and engaging in spirited snowball fights, their laughter and shouts carrying clearly on the crisp air. It was a genuinely lovely scene, full of vibrant life and innocent hope that warmed something inside me. I noticed and recognized that most of the people I saw had pale skin, just like the people back in Draga—our shared northern heritage evident. But there were also some locals who had slightly darker caramel shades to their skin, speaking to different origins. The population was clearly mixed and diverse, having adapted and matched to both the harsh weather and their various ancestral origins over generations of living together.
After riding past the well-maintained paved road for quite a distance, traveling deeper into the settlement, I finally saw the Gorei Duke's castle rising before us. It was absolutely huge, truly immense in scale—far larger than I had imagined or anticipated. Its massive walls were constructed solidly with bricks that had weathered countless winters, creating a formidable stronghold that could comfortably house fifty thousand soldiers within its protected boundaries if needed. This was a fortress designed not just for comfort but for war.
After we passed through the imposing main gates and entered the castle grounds, I saw with amazement that it was even more architecturally complex inside than the exterior had suggested. Various buildings of different sizes and purposes rose ambitiously toward heaven, their towers and spires reaching skyward. The entire structure stood proud and heavy with history, displaying unmistakably the immense military and economic strength of the Selon Empire for all who entered to see and understand.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of anticipation, the carriage came to a complete stop in the main courtyard. Katherine immediately helped me carefully get down from the carriage, steadying me as my feet touched the ground. Arvid quickly came to my side, positioning himself protectively near me. He extended his hand silently, his eyes meeting mine, wordlessly asking me to take it in a gesture that had become familiar. I took his offered hand without hesitation, as usual letting the now-familiar warmth and pleasant electricity run through my whole body at the simple contact, the sensation spreading from where our skin touched.
"I'll introduce you properly to my relatives," Arvid said softly, his voice carrying both warmth and a hint of nervousness. "The Duke of Gorei and his two sons, along with his wife. They were my benefactors during the most difficult time of my life. They protected my father when he was attacked and his life was in danger. And my teacher is also here—finally, you'll meet him. I'll introduce you to him as well."
These people were obviously tremendously important figures in Arvid's life, people who had shaped who he had become. I desperately hoped to make a genuinely good impression on them, not to disappoint Arvid or embarrass him in front of those he loved. I was honestly a bit worried and anxious, I won't lie about that. My stomach twisted with nervous energy.
But that worry was whisked away, carried off by the wind, almost as soon as I actually met them in person. The Duke's wife was the very first to greet us, approaching with obvious enthusiasm. She was a somewhat short woman, petite in stature, with her dark hair pulled back neatly into an elaborate bun and decorated extensively with beautiful gold accessories that caught the light. She wore traditional Selon clothing in rich fabrics, but was sensibly covered in thick fur coats due to the harsh winter weather we were experiencing. She had what appeared to be a permanent warm smile etched on her kind face, and that smile somehow grew even bigger and more radiant when she saw me and Arvid together, her eyes lighting up with genuine joy.
She came directly before me without hesitation, and a attentive servant immediately handed her a ceremonial lamp with fire burning steadily inside. She carefully held it in front of my face, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from the flames, heating my cold cheeks. Then, in a gesture that seemed deeply meaningful though I didn't fully understand it, she dipped her finger into the lamp's oil and gently smeared it on the top of my head in what was clearly a ritual blessing. She had to rise up on her tiptoes to reach, which would have been comical in any other context.
While I stood there somewhat confused by this unfamiliar ceremony, Arvid spoke to her warmly in flowing Arthia, the southern language.
"Aunt, I've missed you so much," his voice was noticeably warm and softer than I'd ever heard it, filled with genuine affection and perhaps relief at seeing her again.
She performed the exact same ritual for him with the lamp and oil, treating him with the same care. Only after completing the blessing for both of us did she finally open her mouth to speak.
"May the sun gods bless you both abundantly! I have been fasting diligently since last night, abstaining from all food and drink, specifically to ask the sun god to bless your union and grant you happiness together," she announced, her voice immediately reminding me powerfully of Martha, my old beloved nanny back home. That same motherly quality, soft and nurturing and unconditionally loving.
She had been smiling warmly the entire time, her face radiating genuine happiness. Then she reached out and took both of our hands in hers, her grip surprisingly strong, and led us purposefully toward the rest of her waiting family who stood in a formal line.
The Duke of Gorei himself looked remarkably similar to Arvid in many ways, his facial structure very close to my husband's. He looked like an older and much more mature version of Arvid—what Arvid himself might look like in twenty or thirty years. His weathered face was covered in a well-grown and meticulously maintained beard that was beginning to show threads of gray. He looked supremely confident and prideful in his bearing, a man completely comfortable with his power and position. Standing dutifully to his side were his two sons, clearly positioned by age and rank.
The oldest son was already approaching young adulthood, a teenager with pale skin that had just a hint of caramel undertone. His eyes were deep, warm brown just like both his parents'. He looked plenty mischievous even standing still, something playful dancing in his eyes and the set of his mouth. His younger brother, in stark contrast, looked far more mature despite his young age, as if he'd been born an old soul.
The younger boy had an impeccably neat appearance and well-maintained, formal attire that seemed unusual for someone so young. He looked like a perfect little gentleman, serious and composed.
"This is my daughter-in-law, isn't she absolutely the prettiest thing?" Arvid's aunt stated enthusiastically, still holding my hand and showing me off proudly to the rest of the assembled family as if presenting a prize. The Duke was the first among them to speak in response.
"Took you long enough to finally get married, Arvid," he said with gruff affection, then turned to me. "And welcome to our home, Queen of Draga. We are honored." He welcomed us both, his voice carrying that characteristic slightly gruff quality, speaking in Arthia. Arvid's aunt still hadn't let go of my hand, holding it firmly. She took it upon herself to introduce me personally to his sons.
"This is my oldest boy, Seran. He's still very much a kid even though he's already fourteen years old," she said with clear maternal affection. "And this is my youngest son, Sagar. He just turned ten recently." She introduced them both affectionately, pride evident in every word.
"Welcome, Queen of Draga—sister-in-law," the youngest, Sagar, bowed with practiced ease and spoke directly to me in my mother tongue, in perfect Relina rather than Arthia. He was clearly very well-mannered and had been extensively educated.
"It's wonderful to meet you all," I managed to say, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the unexpectedly warm welcome I was receiving. The genuine affection was almost overwhelming. It was abundantly clear that Arvid was treated as their own son by this family, not just as their emperor. That bond was unmistakable. He was incredibly lucky to have them in his life.
"Sister-in-law, did my brother propose to you properly with flowers and romance?" the older boy, Seran, asked with obvious mischief.
Um. No, he proposed with an army and war, I wanted to say honestly, but before I could formulate any kind of diplomatic answer, he was suddenly caught by Arvid.
"You brat," Arvid said with mock severity as he playfully strangled the giggling boy, but Seran slipped away like a slimy fish, laughing, and immediately ran away. Arvid chased after him determinedly, trying to catch him, both of them acting like children despite their ages.
"So unsightly and undignified," the younger one, Sagar, stated with clear disapproval, shaking his head at his older brother's childish behavior. His manner was so much like that of a disapproving old man that it made me genuinely chuckle despite myself.
He looked up at me seriously, his brown eyes looking directly at me with surprising intensity for someone so young.
"Sister-in-law is well-mannered, like a proper lady should be," he observed. Then he added with conviction, "I like that very much."
Well. At least someone from this family already liked me. A small victory, but I'd take it. Progress was progress.
"It's far too cold out here, daughter. Let's go inside where it's warm," Arvid's aunt smiled at me kindly and urged me toward the castle entrance, her hand on my arm. I looked around for my husband who had now completely deserted me in favor of playing with his cousin. He was still actively trying to catch the laughing Seran, both of them running around like children.
"They will play like that for quite a while, dear," she added with the long-suffering patience of someone who had witnessed this behavior many times. "Boys will be boys, no matter their age or station."
So, recognizing I had been temporarily abandoned, I obediently followed her inside the impressive castle. Both the Duke and his wife had called me 'daughter' repeatedly already. It had been quite a while since I had heard that particular word directed at me with such warmth. It was surprisingly nice to hear again. And warm in a way that had nothing to do with temperature.