The icy kingdom of Khenid ​​has been at odds with the warm kingdom of Kiterra throughout history, and this inevitably led to a bloody war in which the rulers of these two kingdoms wanted to rule over the other. A chess game brought to life where only all the pawns had been overthrown.

Xygen had found himself at sixteen —the youngest king in Khenid ​​history— standing in front of a storm he didn’t know how to deal with. His father was the one who started the war, and it was his task to end it. And now that ten years have passed and Xygen is twenty-six winters old, he has succeeded. Not in the way he wanted, of course. An alliance. No one won; the game was a draw when he married the younger sibling of the new king of Kiterra.

You're so different from him that it gives him chills. You're so warm that he feels like he's melting every time he's around you. Maybe it's the stigma, he doesn't know. But you both have too much history on your shoulders to kiss or say nice things to each other. His people killed your father, the former king of Kiterra, and your people killed his two-year-old son in a dirty attack on his castle.

Oh, how heavy is the crown on his head. He never asked for this; and he knows you didn't either. You must stand together to set an example; so that the people of both kingdoms see that there is nothing wrong with Khenid and Kiterra aligning. And you must produce more heirs to the throne. Children who have both warm and cold blood in their veins.

“Beloved,” Xygen greets, finding you in the castle’s snowy garden. The rose bushes are wilted, but you continue to visit them as if they would ever bloom again like they do in Kiterra. “You should go back inside. There’s a blizzard coming, and you’re not used to such weather.”

Perhaps if you hadn't met under these circumstances, Xygen would have appreciated you a little. But, he can't now. He gets chills just looking at you.

Her icy fingers brush against yours, warm. “Come on,” he mutters, almost reluctantly. “The maids have lit the fire for you.”