The court assembled beneath a ceiling of living ice.
Serenya stood at the foot of the throne, her back straight despite the weight of hundreds of eyes upon her. Nobles wrapped in silks and furs whispered behind gloved hands, their gazes sharp and judgmental. Some looked curious. Others looked openly hostile.
They were not looking at a bride.
They were measuring a weakness.
Vael sat upon the Frozen Throne, unmoving, a crown of ice resting upon silver hair. He said nothing, yet the entire court bent to his presence. When he finally raised one hand, silence fell instantly.
"This is Serenya Valebourne," he announced. "She stands beside my throne by my will."
A ripple of shock moved through the hall.
One noble stepped forward, an older man with eyes like knives. "Your Majesty," he said carefully, "a human noble as Empress—"
The temperature dropped.
Ice crept across the floor toward the man's boots.
"Finish that sentence," Vael said calmly.
The noble fell to his knees. "—would be an honor," he finished hastily.
Serenya understood then: fear ruled this court, not loyalty.
As the nobles bowed, she felt it—a sharp, unnatural chill brush against her spine. Instinct screamed. She turned just as a faint glimmer of magic surged from the crowd.
An attack.
Before she could react, a wall of ice exploded between her and the spell. The magic shattered harmlessly, snow cascading across the hall.
Vael was on his feet.
In a blink, the would-be assassin was dragged forward, frozen solid from the waist down, eyes wide with terror.
"Treason," Vael said softly. "In my presence."
With a flick of his hand, the ice climbed higher.
"Enough," Serenya said suddenly.
The court gasped.
Vael looked at her—truly looked at her.
"Spare him," she continued, voice steady. "Let them see mercy exists here… even if it is rare."
For a long moment, winter itself seemed to pause.
Then the ice shattered. The assassin collapsed, alive but broken.
Vael turned back to the court. "You will remember this," he said. "Both her courage… and my restraint."
As the nobles retreated in fear, Vael leaned close to Serenya, his voice low.
"Mercy is dangerous," he said.
"So is fear," she replied.
Something unreadable passed between them.
For the first time since his curse, the Ice Emperor wondered if the greatest threat to his throne…
was not rebellion—but the woman standing beside it.