How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

Morwenna took a deep breath as she entered the house.

It was quiet downstairs.

Zoe wasn’t around either.

Morwenna set the trout she'd brought into the kitchen.

She wondered if she should just sneak in and then sneak out unnoticed.

But then she remembered her luggage was still in Stuart’s room. She’d have to get it back, so, steeling herself, she went upstairs.

If Stuart was home at this hour, he’d likely still be in his bedroom. Even though she hadn’t known Stuart for long, she had a good sense of his habits: he rarely ate breakfast and often slept late into the morning. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

The upstairs was silent as she approached the bedroom door. Hesitating with her hand raised to knock, she wondered what she would say to Stuart.

He left with Adelaide yesterday. What if Adelaide would show up behind the door?

Stuart had seemed distant when she first mentioned leaving Windcharm Villas; now that she was planning to leave again, would his attitude change further?

Morwenna’s thoughts swirled as she lowered her hand, only to raise it again moments later.

Then she shook her head and muttered to herself, “Morwenna, you’re becoming such a coward. You’re not afraid of a wild boar, but Stuart scares you?”

With that, she knocked on the door firmly.

“You're here,” came Stuart’s deep, slightly hoarse voice from behind her.

Startled, Morwenna turned around quickly.

Stuart hadn’t been in the bedroom after all; he had come out of the study on the other side.

He was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, looking as though he hadn’t slept at all. His deep-set eyes were red-rimmed and gloomy, giving him a look of weary defiance.

All of Morwenna’s tension and nervousness shifted to surprise. “Stuart, what happened to you?”

Instead of answering, Stuart asked, “Morwenna, do you hold any resentment?”

Confused, Morwenna thought he was referring to yesterday’s incident when he had decided not to save her.

She felt hurt, but resentment was too strong a word.

Before she could reply, Stuart pressed on, “Do you resent your parents? Your relatives who refused to help? The villagers who turned their backs on you?”

Morwenna frowned. “Stuart, have you been investigating me? What are you trying to say?”

“Do you resent those who refused to help Melvin when he needed it?”

Morwenna’s eyes narrowed and she snapped, “Stuart!”

That made her angry.

She could let go the abandonment by her father, the disdain from her grandmother and aunt, the cruelty of fair-weather friends, but Stuart should not have brought up Melvin.

Stuart, seeing her anger yet still fixing his gaze intensely on her, continued to probe, “So, do you resent them?”

It was as if he housed a devil inside him, determined to excavate other people’s hidden demons. He couldn’t believe that someone who had faced so much adversity could remain unscathed by darkness.

Morwenna’s face was stern. “Stuart, can’t you learn to show a shred of respect for others? If you’ve looked into my past, you should know how important Melvin was to me, yet you still deliberately bring this up to ask if I resent. You really are a piece of work.”

Stuart just stared into her eyes, searching for a sign of resentment. And he found what he was looking for.

Satisfied, he mused that human nature was inherently evil; how could anyone grow up amidst such tragedy without harboring any hatred?

A child left to fend for itself at five years old knew despair and agony all too well—no one understood that better than he did.