Serenya had always known her family loved gold more than blood.
Still, she never imagined they would sell her like livestock.
The great hall of House Valemere was filled with forced smiles and shaking hands as contracts were signed in ink thicker than truth. Her father stood tall, pretending pride. Her mother wept quietly—not from grief, but from relief. Their debts would vanish. Their lands would be restored.
And Serenya would be gone.
"The Ice Emperor has agreed," her father announced. "You will be his bride."
The words struck colder than any winter wind.
Stories of the Ice Emperor had haunted every kingdom. An immortal ruler of the north. A man with no heart. A tyrant whose palace was carved from eternal frost and whose mercy froze with his victims.
Serenya said nothing. She refused to beg.
Two days later, she was wrapped in pale furs and placed inside a carriage guarded by soldiers bearing the sigil of ice and crown. As the wheels rolled north, warmth faded. The land grew silent. Even the birds disappeared.
By the time they reached the Frozen Dominion, her fingers were numb, her breath visible in the air.
The palace rose from the snow like a nightmare—towers of ice, walls glowing blue beneath the moon. Gates opened without a sound.
Inside waited Vael.
He stood before the throne, tall and unmoving, silver hair falling over eyes colder than death. His presence alone made her knees weaken.
"So," he said, voice calm and merciless, "this is what they traded for gold."
Serenya lifted her chin. "I was sold. Not broken."
For the first time in centuries, something flickered behind the Ice Emperor's eyes.
Interest.