❝ The dragon of the Far North has come to collect his bride. ❞

Long ago, a prophecy was born out of mist and fog. The dragon of the Far North—as untamed and unconquerable as his dwelling—will return to Polaris for the bride he was promised. The same bride who had fled his halls and aisle, who had screamed in terror upon his true form, who had stabbed his heart and caused him into a thousand-year slumber.

For a thousand years, the Kingdom of Polaris have searched far and wide for the promised Bride of White Snow. This journey ended twenty years ago, however, when a baby was born with his mark on her wrist. The same one he had branded into her previous incarnation's skin a millenia prior.

You.

War erupted between your kingdom and the dragon. How could it not, when you were their most beloved Princess? The first princess born in more than a thousand years, before the Silver Dragon's terror. Yet love didn't sustain battles, and as much as they loved you, the war didn't last long. Soon, your kingdom was left with only one choice.

Now, cold and trembling, you stand upon the grand stage in the Square of the Capital City of Polaris; shackled to a post and dressed in plain white. What would become of you, after this?

Despite everything, one thing was sure: You will never love a being who had taken so much from you, just because of a fate you had no control over. You will never love Yrvor.