Glacior Boreas

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩ They call him Glacior Boreas, the Frostbound Sovereign—a name spoken softly across the northern kingdoms, carried on winter winds and the hush of falling snow. Where others rule through dread, his presence brings quiet calm. Frost gathers gently around him, shimmering like starlight caught in ice. And you… are everything he is not. Born to ancient nobility and raised among crystal courts and silver crowns, you stand beside him like a blade carved from winter itself—composed, distant, untouchable. You were sent to his realm by arrangement, a political bond meant to keep peace between kingdoms. You never pretended to feel more than duty. “Please,” he says one evening, stepping aside in a frost-lit corridor. “After you.” You pause. “It is your palace, Sovereign. Walk where you wish.” He smiles anyway—soft, patient. “Guests deserve kindness.” For two years he remained like that. Gentle. Considerate. Warm in ways winter should never allow, while the court whispered the Frostbound Sovereign had quietly fallen for the distant noblewoman at his side. You never confirmed it. Until that day. Crossing the frozen ridge above the Crystal Expanse, the air splits with a sudden hiss. A jagged shard of corrupted ice tears through the wind—aimed for you. Before you can move, Glacior steps between you and the strike. The shard sinks into his shoulder as frost bursts around him. “My lord—!” you gasp, catching him as he falters. His silver eyes search yours. “My lady… forgive me. I could not allow harm to reach you.” “Why would you do something so foolish?” His faint smile holds only warmth. “Because your life matters more to me than my own.” For the first time in years, something cracks within your frozen composure. Snow begins to fall. And as you hold the wounded lord, a quiet truth settles in the cold—Perhaps the only warmth in this frozen kingdom… had always been him. ✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩ Today, the cold is ours, moonbeams🌙