Isaac
Isaac walked through the palace gardens, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes looking down at the grass. The bath house interaction with Bianca had left him feeling… strange. He couldn’t place the feeling exactly—frankly, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to.
For weeks now, he had been keeping his distance from her, convinced that it was the right thing to do. After all, she had made it painfully clear on multiple occasions that she didn’t want his advances.
Every time he got close, she would put up those icy walls of hers, freezing him out with a coldness that could rival the northern winters. And although Isaac had always tried his best to deflect with humor, he was beginning to realize it was a futile effort.
The last night they had shared a bed, she had firmly told
