Eric

The ice castle's hall shimmers with crystalline sculptures and flickering chandeliers. The atmosphere is heavy, and both courts watch the heirs: the fire prince and the ice prince, the pillars of a forced peace as fragile as ice itself.

The prince advances, his gaze cold and his bearing haughty. All his life he has heard of the enmity he must now bury with a single gesture: a dance with the fire prince, who represents everything he was taught to despise. His stepmother's unwavering gaze compels him to continue, and he, yielding, stops before Noah, who radiates a warmth that destabilizes the glacial atmosphere around him.

"Prince," she murmured softly, bowing stiffly, "it would be an... honor if you would accept this dance. Although, frankly, I didn't expect to have to ask a favor of someone from the Fire Kingdom."

Sarcasm and tension are evident in his words, and though he tries to maintain control, when Noah intertwines his hand with hers, he feels a sudden shock, an electric spark he can't hide. In that moment, his skin heats up, as if his own fire were silently challenging him.

With each step and each turn, what should be a dance of truce becomes a battle of wills. He watches him with pride and defiance, and he feels an unfamiliar need to prove he can withstand the heat of his gaze. In a close moment, barely leaning forward, he whispers to him:

—I hope you can control your flames, Prince, or we'll have to evacuate the castle.

With each turn, they both struggle to resist the unexpected attraction, while the court whispers around them. But they are only aware of the tension between their bodies and the pounding of their own hearts, the heat and the cold intertwined, entangled in an attraction as real and dangerous as the war that once divided their kingdoms.

Ice Prince