❄️❄️ Taming his cold heart ❄️❄️

🎀 CHAPTER SIX🎀

Prince Nil made his way to the throne room.

The guards outside straightened the moment they saw him. They bowed and stepped aside without question. Nil nodded once and walked in.

Inside, King Edric was pacing. One hand was pressed to his lower back, the other clenched behind him. He stopped the moment he heard footsteps.

“Prince Nil,” Edric said, relief slipping into his voice before he could hide it.

Nil bowed lightly. “Your Majesty.”

Edric waved a hand. “I was about to take a walk. Join me.”

Nil hesitated only a second before nodding. “Of course.”

They walked out together, side by side, the doors closing behind them.

For a while, neither spoke. The palace grounds were quiet, the evening air cool. Edric clasped his hands behind his back.

“How do you find the palace?” the king asked at last. “It’s been some time since your last visit.”

“It’s the same,” Nil said. “Calm. Orderly.”

Edric hummed. “And you? Are you preparing yourself yet? A kingdom doesn’t wait forever.”

Nil let out a short laugh. “My father is still very much alive, Your Majesty. I’m in no hurry to take his place.”

Edric smiled faintly. “Even so, preparation doesn’t mean impatience.”

“I know,” Nil replied. “He reminds me often enough.”

They walked a little farther.

“And Lady Sera?” Edric asked casually. “Is she well?”

“She is,” Nil answered. “Very much so.”

The reply was smooth, practiced. It didn’t invite more questions.

Edric glanced at him but said nothing.

After a few steps, Nil spoke again. “I heard there was some trouble in the palace earlier.”

Edric’s shoulders stiffened for just a moment. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with. It’s been handled.”

Nil studied him. “Your Majesty… if there’s anything weighing on you, you know I’d help if I could.”

Edric stopped walking.

He looked up at the sky, dark now, the stars faint. When he spoke, his voice was softer.

“You know,” he said, “you are like the son I never had.”

Nil turned fully toward him.

“I promised my wife I would never take another woman.” Edric continued. “That I would protect our daughter with everything I have. Even when the court whispers. Even when they say a king needs a son.”

Nil listened quietly.

“I ignored them,” Edric said. “I told myself that if Zayla ever chose a man she loved, even if he wasn’t royal, I would give him the throne without regret.” He paused. “But I don’t see that future anymore.”

Nil frowned. “What do you mean, Your Majesty?”

Edric smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

The walk ended soon after.

They parted ways near the palace entrance. Nil headed for his horse, waiting where it had been tied. His personal guard, Orion, stood nearby.

“Your Highness,” Orion greeted.

Nil didn’t move right away. He stood there, staring at the palace gates.

“Is something wrong?” Orion asked.

Nil exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. I just feel uneasy.”

A crow landed on the stone railing nearby, cawing loudly.

Nil turned sharply. “A crow?”

Orion followed his gaze. “Bad timing.”

“Bad omen,” Nil said quietly.

He looked back at the palace.

“Station men outside,” Nil ordered. “Quietly. Day and night. I want to know who comes and goes.”

Orion straightened. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Nil swung onto his horse. Orion mounted his own moments later.

Without another word, they rode off, leaving the palace standing silent behind them.

*******************************

The next morning, Hilda was in Princess Zayla’s room, helping her get ready for the day.

“It’s snowing, Princess,” Hilda said, pulling out a thick cloak. “It’s really cold outside.”

“Already?” Zayla asked. She moved closer to the window and peeped outside.

Snow was falling softly, covering the courtyard below.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Hilda said, rising from where she’d been kneeling, folding clothes.

She walked over and opened the door.

Two women stood outside, each holding boxes and neatly folded garments.

“His Majesty sent us,” they said.

“Sent you?” Zayla asked, opening the door wider.

They nodded and bowed.

“His Majesty sent us,” one of them said. “He asked that we prepare you.”

“Prepare…” Hilda muttered, turning to Zayla. “Prepare you for what, Your Highness?”

Zayla didn’t answer right away. She sighed, her voice low.

“So he’s serious.”

Before either of them could say anything more, she left the room, her steps quick and sharp as she headed for the throne room.

When she reached the throne room, the guards stepped in her way.

“Your Highness, you can’t go in,” one of them said. “There’s a meeting.”

“Move,” Zayla snapped, trying to push past them.

They didn’t.

Her temper flared. Before she thought about it, power rushed through her. She lifted her hand.

The spell hit one of the guards squarely. He staggered back and fell to the floor.

Zayla stared at her hand.

“Well,” she muttered, “not bad. Always works when I’m not expecting it.”

The others froze.

She didn’t wait. She stepped around them and went inside.

The moment she entered, the room went quiet. Ministers and elders turned toward her, startled.

She walked straight ahead.

“Father,” she said, her voice steady, “we need to talk.”

King Edric raised a hand.

“That will be all,” he said.

The ministers hesitated, then bowed and filed out one by one. The doors closed behind them, leaving only the two of them in the room.

Zayla didn’t wait.

“So you weren't joking.” she said. “This so-called marriage. You’re serious about it.”

King Edric sighed but said nothing.

“At least tell me,” she went on, her voice tight, “who am I marrying?”

She folded her arms, standing her ground.

“You are marrying Lord Asher,” King Edric said.

Zayla froze. Then she pressed a hand to her head, as if something had struck her.

Maybe she hadn’t heard him right.

“…What?”

She stared at him.

“The Golden-Eyed Demon?” she said. “That ruthless man?”

Her laugh slipped out, sharp and unbelieving.

“Someone I’ve never even seen?” she went on. “He’s a monster, Father.”

She shook her head. “You’re joking. You have to be pulling my leg.”

King Edric looked at her for a long moment.

“I wish I was.”

“You know the stories of him, Father,” Zayla said, voice rising. “Why am I marrying him? He’ll kill me!”

King Edric sighed, leaning back. “Go. And prepare.”

“Prepare? Prepare for what—death?!” Zayla shouted, her voice sharp, echoing off the walls. “You can’t just decide this for me!”

“Enough, Zayla,” Edric said, voice low and steady, cutting her off like a blade. “I’ve made my choice. You will obey me.”

“Father!” she yelled, fists clenching. “I will not go!"

"Guards—”

The doors slammed open.

Two guards stepped inside, faces hard, hands already reaching for her.

“Take her away,” King Edric commanded.

Zayla’s glare cut through the air. “Lay a finger on me and you’ll regret it. I swear, I’ll leave on my own."

The guards froze for a heartbeat, unsure.

She turned back to her father, breathing hard, her voice lower now—cold.

“I’ll obey. That doesn’t mean I accept it.”

Edric said nothing.

“I won’t fight you. I won’t beg,” she continued. “But I will remember this moment for the rest of my life.”

She straightened, chin lifting.

“You’ve made your choice. I’ll live with it.”

A pause.

“You will too.”

Then she turned and walked out.