They say the Duke of the North buried three brides before he turned twenty-five. They don’t say what happens to the fourth. ❄️❤️🔥🗡️ At fifteen, she took her first mercenary contract. At twenty-five, she signed her second. The first fed her family for a month. The second might cost her heart, her name, and her life. They call her Killing Frost. She has never lost a fight, and she has never been so afraid of a signature. When the Duke of the North offers her a year-long marriage, triple pay, and the best physician in the realm for her sick little brother, she says yes before her pride can say no. He needs a wife the Crown can’t buy. She needs a way out of the slums. Simple. She should have refused. Nobles donut marry girls from the slums or battlefields They use them and let the winter take. Until the silk starts to feel like skin. Until the door between their rooms stops feeling like a wall. Until she finds her father’s initials in his war ledger, beside a seal that should never have touched them. Her husband is burning from the inside. The Crown is closing in and the man she’s learning to love may be the reason why she ever learned to fight. Marry the Duke. Guard his life. Whatever you do, don’t fall in love.
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