Queen of Warmth

Tuzi never planned on ending up at the Greenfort mansion. But when her mother collapsed at work and the hospital bills stacked higher than her courage, she took the only job that promised enough money to save her — caretaker for the reclusive Matthias Greenfort. Everyone in town whispered about him. Cold. Cruel. Cursed. But desperation doesn’t wait for warnings. The mansion rose before her like a shadow carved out of stone, towering behind an iron gate that groaned as it opened. Fog curled around her ankles as she stepped through, clutching the strap of her worn bag. A woman with sharp eyes and a tighter bun opened the front door before Tuzi could knock. “You’re the new caretaker,” the woman said flatly. “Follow me.” Tuzi stepped inside. The air was colder than outside — unnaturally cold — like the walls themselves were holding their breath. The woman walked briskly down the hall. “Your duties are simple. Clean what you’re told. Stay out of the east wing. Don’t touch locked doors. And do not wander after sunset.” Tuzi frowned. “Why not?” The woman’s eyes flicked toward the dark staircase. “Because he doesn’t like it.” Before Tuzi could ask who he was, a cold presence brushed her spine. She turned. A man stood at the top of the stairs — tall, pale, impossibly still. His eyes were winter itself, sharp and ancient, watching her like he already knew her. Matthias Greenfort. The air shifted. Her chest tightened. Something warm pulsed beneath her skin — soft at first, then stronger. The imprint. Tuzi swallowed hard, unable to look away. Matthias spoke, his voice low and cold enough to freeze the air. “You’re late.” Tuzi’s heart stumbled. “I—I came as fast as I could.” His eyes narrowed, studying her like she was a puzzle he didn’t remember creating. “Follow me,” he said. And as she stepped toward him, the imprint pulsed again — warm, bright, alive — as if it had been waiting for her. Tuzi followed Matthias up the staircase, each step colder than the last. The air around him felt like winter pressed against her skin, but the warmth inside her pushed back, soft and steady. She didn’t understand it. She didn’t know why her chest felt like it was glowing. She didn’t know why the mansion seemed to lean toward her as she walked. But she felt it. Matthias didn’t look back as he led her down a long hallway lined with tall windows. The curtains were heavy, dark, and drawn tight, letting in only slivers of gray light. “Your room is here,” he said, stopping in front of a door. Tuzi nodded. “Thank you.” Matthias didn’t respond. He simply watched her — silent, unreadable. Tuzi shifted nervously. “Is there anything else I should know?” Matthias’s eyes flickered — the smallest movement, but enough to make her breath catch. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Do not enter the east wing.” Tuzi frowned. “Why?” Matthias stepped closer, his presence cold enough to make her shiver. “Because I said so.” Tuzi swallowed hard. “Okay.” Matthias turned to leave — then paused. His voice softened, barely audible. “You shouldn’t have come here.” Tuzi blinked. “What?” Matthias didn’t repeat himself. He simply walked away, his footsteps silent despite the creaking floorboards. Tuzi stood alone in the hallway, her heart pounding. She didn’t know what he meant. She didn’t know why the house felt alive. She didn’t know why her chest felt warm. But she knew one thing: Something inside this mansion had been waiting for her. And now that she was here — it wasn’t letting go.