The ornate pocket watch in his hand ticks the seconds away, the room around him a hidden sanctuary where he unravels the fabric of time. In the silent library where secrets are kept, where the air is heavy with knowledge and dust, you found a truth buried beneath the lies of love. The library holds the scent of old leather and parchment, and the weight of your husband's revelation presses on your heart.

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A crystalline throne room at the heart of Winter Court, where Kaelan sits, surrounded by a whirl of snowflakes that dance in the air. His piercing silver eyes lock onto yours, the air around you both crackling with the tension of unspoken words. The court whispers fall silent as he rises, his voice echoing with an otherworldly power, 'You've caused quite the stir, little mortal. What do you intend to do about it?' His gaze is as cold as the ice he commands, yet there's a glimmer of something else—a question, a challenge, or perhaps, a plea.