Married to the Cold King

Chapter Six: A Change of Time

The morning sun had already spread golden light across the village when I stepped outside the little cottage, balancing a basket of eggs in one hand and a broom in the other. I paused for a moment, inhaling the fresh air that smelled faintly of hay, wildflowers, and morning dew. It had been years since I last saw this place as a child, and yet it felt like the world had slowed just for me.

Lina, my constant companion and relentless teaser, stood at the edge of the yard, arms folded, waiting. Her grin was mischievous as always.

“Try not to drop anything today,” she called, tilting her head. “Or we’ll have chickens running away, and I’ll have to rescue them again.”

I groaned. “I know how to carry eggs, Lina! I’ve survived the village for years now, remember?”

She laughed, stepping closer. “Yeah, survived… but remember last week with the goat and the mud? Or the pumpkin that somehow landed on your foot?”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh as I nearly tripped on a loose stone. “That was… unfortunate!”

“You call it unfortunate; I call it classic Elara.” Lina shoved me lightly, and I stumbled forward, catching myself on the wooden fence. Somehow, I had grown taller, stronger, more confident than before—but clumsiness was one thing that would never leave me. Lina clapped her hands and laughed so hard, I had to laugh too.

The villagers were already awake and going about their daily routines. I waved at the women in the market, and they greeted me warmly. “Elara! Morning! You look so well!” “Good morning, Miss Elara!” It felt strange to have people look at me not with pity, not with judgment, but with respect. I liked it. I had grown here, learned here, and for once, I felt like I belonged somewhere.

“Come on, hurry up,” Lina said, grabbing a basket of apples. “We’ve got to finish chores before the sun gets too high, or the animals will rebel.”

I gave her a mock glare but followed her, feeling lighter than I had in years. My grandmother’s words echoed in my mind: “Strength is gentle but unbreakable. Never let anyone dull your light, Elara.”

I smiled at the thought. I had tried to live by them.

—

The clatter of expensive shoes on the dirt road startled me. I looked up and froze for a moment. A black car, gleaming even in the dusty village sunlight, had stopped by the edge of the path. Two men in dark suits stepped out first, scanning the area, followed by a man who moved with unmistakable authority. Even from a distance, I could tell: this was not someone ordinary. The way he carried himself, the way people instinctively parted before him—it radiated power.

Lina leaned closer, whispering, “That’s… someone important, isn’t it?”

I nodded slowly, curious. My basket of apples threatened to tip over as I hurried past them, trying not to stare. My eyes barely registered the man at first… until I bumped into him.

The impact was light, but his voice cut through the air like ice:

“Watch where you’re going.”

I looked up at him, fully prepared to apologize… but his sharp gaze, his posture, the expensive suit perfectly tailored to his frame—it all annoyed me instantly.

“You bumped into me! Are you blind or something?” I snapped, stepping back and raising my chin.

The man blinked once, his expression unreadable. Then, just as his jaw tightened slightly, one of the guards beside him moved forward, hand twitching toward my shoulder.

A flash of annoyance ran through me. “Oh, so now you send the muscle after me for telling the truth? Uhn.”

The guard froze. The man raised a single hand, stopping them. I barely noticed. I was already moving, my basket wobbled, apples clinking together.

As I left, muttering under my breath, I couldn’t help thinking: What a rude man. He looked… well, intimidating, but rude. Ugh.

—

Cassian Vale POV

He watched her run off, her blonde hair catching the sunlight, her stride uneven yet determined. The girl bumped into him with a mixture of clumsiness and audacity—and had the nerve to insult him.

Cassian straightened the cuff of his bespoke jacket, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders. His shoes clicked on the wooden planks of the path, and the guards behind him hesitated, sensing the intensity of his presence. He didn’t need their protection. Rarely did he need anyone to handle disrespect.

Disrespectful, bold, utterly unaware… yet striking.

He let the image of her linger in his mind. Her posture, the tilt of her head, the flash of green in her eyes—he knew that face. Not fully, but… a memory whispered to him from years ago.

Cassian turned away, letting the guards handle the uneasy villagers. They were staring, murmuring about the man who could crush entire businesses with a signature, the man who commanded fleets and skyscrapers like toys. Pathetic people, he thought. They didn’t deserve their little comforts, their meager lives. They didn’t even understand real power.

And yet… the girl had spirit. Something untamed.

I’ll remember you, he thought quietly.

—

Elara POV

The basket of apples in my hands wobbled dangerously as I ran down the path, trying to ignore the awkward flush rising in my cheeks. Who did he think he was? A man with fancy clothes and guards could not push me around!

Lina caught up to me, giggling. “Did you see that man? He looked scary!”

“Scary? He was rude!” I hissed. “Like… seriously. He just… looked at me as if I was nothing. And his hair! Perfect! And his suit! Too perfect!”

Lina laughed harder than ever. “Sounds like a real prince… or a tyrant!”

“Ugh, don’t even joke,” I said, shaking my head. But part of me wondered… still thinking of the handsome rude face

—

The laughter and teasing faded as days turned to weeks. My grandmother, the woman who had raised me after my mother’s death, had grown weaker. Her hands, once steady and warm, trembled as she held mine.

“Elara,” she whispered one quiet evening, sitting me beside her, “you’ve grown… strong, and kind. But remember, strength is more than muscles. It’s kindness, it’s courage… and it’s knowing when to walk away from those who would harm you.”

Tears pricked my eyes, but I held them back. I didn’t want her to see me cry. I kissed her wrinkled forehead gently, inhaling the scent of lavender and old books that had always been her.

The next morning, she was gone. Peacefully, finally, but my world felt empty again.

The villagers mourned with me, sharing stories and memories. I helped organize her small memorial, smiling through the tears, feeling the weight of the life I had built here with Lina and the village people who had come to love me.

—

Margaret Whitmore POV

Far away in the city, Margaret Whitmore sipped her tea, a sly smile curling her lips as she read the letter that had arrived. She had heard of the grandmother’s passing before anyone else.

Perfect, she thought.

Vanessa, her precious stepdaughter, had refused the marriage to the aloof CEO out of fear. Edward would be easily swayed, he always was.

Margaret leaned back in her chair. “The arrangement will be perfect. Elara will marry him, and everything will fall into place.”