05. Ice Prince?

Like a princess. That was how Rosella had been treated these past two days. Lorien took care of her with such meticulous attention, ensuring she lacked nothing.

Rosella felt guilty for troubling him so much. Yet, being with him was never boring. Lorien was kind, easygoing, and gentle. However, no matter how well he treated her, Rosella wouldn't let herself forget her goal—to escape from this place.

She would find a way. She had sworn to avenge her parents' deaths, and she would see it through.

Her legs had healed significantly, thanks to Lorien's care. That was why she decided to take a walk. She couldn't sleep tonight. Maybe some fresh air would help.

"I wonder what Koen is doing." Rosella picked up the shawl Lorien had given her, wrapping it around herself to keep warm.

Carefully, she opened her bedroom door, stepping out into the dimly lit corridor. She walked without direction, trying to guess which door would lead her to the garden.

After wandering for a while, her efforts finally paid off. After countless turns, she found the door leading to the rose garden.

The sweet fragrance of roses filled her senses, and a gentle breeze lifted strands of her dark hair. She hugged herself.

Why is it so cold?

There was no moonlight, yet she could see everything clearly. Her eyes had long adapted to the darkness. She closed them briefly, but soon, her body started shivering.

"Why is it this cold?" She looked up. This isn't winter… is it?

As she spoke, a puff of cold mist escaped her lips. White flakes drifted down, brushing against her skin. She extended her hands as more snow began to fall.

The snowflakes melted upon touching her warm palms. "Why is it snowing here?"

Rosella glanced around. The snowfall thickened, especially at the center of the garden. "Isn't this strange?"

She looked left and right. A strange unease crept into her chest, but Lorien had assured her there was nothing to fear here.

Summoning her courage, she stepped forward. If danger awaited her, she would kick it with all her might. At times like this, she missed her silver weapon.

The closer she got, the colder the air became. She felt as if she would freeze. Snow now covered the garden floor beneath her feet.

Some roses were buried under the frost, and even her dark hair had caught flecks of snow. "Why am I doing this?" she muttered, rubbing her hands together for warmth.

Then, her hazel eyes caught sight of something ahead.

A figure stood in the middle of the snow-covered rose garden, enveloped in a swirling snowstorm.

Rosella stopped in her tracks.

It was a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with silver-white hair. He seemed unaware of her presence.

For reasons she couldn't explain, she felt compelled to move closer. Her hand reached out to touch him.

But then—

Clash!

Rosella gasped as sharp ice spikes erupted from the ground. She jumped back, nearly losing her balance. Her hands flew to her mouth as she imagined what would have happened had she been a second slower.

The silver-haired man turned around. His face was unreadable, but his piercing silver eyes held a flicker of surprise.

"Who are you?" His voice was as cold as the ice surrounding him.

Rosella hesitated, unable to answer. Her silence made the man scowl.

He raised a hand. A shard of ice formed in his palm. Rosella's heart pounded. A sorcerer.

"Speak, unless you wish to die," he warned, letting the ice glint under the dim light.

"…Rosella."

She squeezed her eyes shut as he aimed the shard at her, expecting him to strike.

But nothing happened.

Cautiously, she peeked. The ice shard had stopped just inches from her face.

"How did you get here?"

"Kian saved me."

The silver-eyed man showed no reaction. The ice shard still hovered in place. She wanted to step back, but behind her, sharp ice spikes blocked her retreat. Her legs had just healed—there was no way she was going to injure them again.

"Leave this place at once. You do not belong here."

Something inside Rosella burned with anger. His words were cruel. She wanted to leave, too, but they told her she couldn't. It was the middle of the night—clearly dangerous. And she had no weapons to defend herself.

Why is my luck so miserable?

"Did you not hear me?"

Faced with his cold demeanor and cutting words, Rosella felt her eyes sting. Maybe it was because Lorien and the others had been so kind to her that she momentarily forgot—she was a stranger here. Tears welled in her eyes.

Seeing this, the man withdrew his power. A strange sense of regret flickered across his face. Rosella's legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the snow.

"I want to leave too, but they said I can't."

Her tears fell freely. Maybe it was the cold, the fear from his earlier attack, or his cruel words. The anxiety she had suppressed for three days finally spilled out before this stranger.

The man narrowed his eyes. "Then go back to your room."

But Rosella only sobbed harder.

"I don't know the way back."

He stared at her in disbelief. Was she serious?

A heavy sigh left his lips. He took a step forward, extending a hand toward her.

"I will take you back," he said flatly.

---

At the same time, in a different place, Koen ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He hadn't expected Rosella to actually escape.

"You couldn't even handle a single girl?"

A deep voice spoke behind him.

"I didn't think she would actually run away," Koen muttered.

The older man scoffed, unimpressed by his son's excuse. "Find her immediately. You know what will happen if she falls into the hands of those vampires. Everything I've planned for years will be ruined. For the sake of humanity, for the peace of this world, you must bring that girl back to us."

Koen remained silent as the man turned and walked away.

His gaze fell on a photograph sitting on the desk—a picture of a bright, smiling girl.

He picked it up, eyes darkening.

"You really are that reckless, Rose."