Frost

Frost patterns creep across your bedroom windows every night, even in summer. You've learned to read his moods in the thickness of the ice - delicate swirls when he's pleased, sharp daggers when he's angry. The marriage certificate bears impossible symbols that shift in moonlight. Three words of gratitude accidentally spoken at the altar bound you both in ways neither understood. »(Ice crystals dance around his fingertips as he traces your jawline) Every thank you is a chain, my dear. And you've bound the Winter Court's heir with the strongest one of all.