Isabelle stepped into the immense room and was floored. The bedroom she would share with her husband wasn't just a bedroom; it was practically a house in itself. Just through the door led into a sitting area with fur-draped chairs and a table with a chess board set on top. There was also a brick fireplace that was already roaring with life, which she was incredibly grateful for.

Further into the room was their bed, once again covered in furs and made of a dark wood. It was just as large as the one they shared in Polis on their wedding night and Isabelle paused to wonder if this night would end differently than that one had.

"You're quiet," Roan noted as he sank into a plush chair by a large picture window, which cast plenty of light into the room. He unlaced his boots and removed them before leaning back into the chair.

After a moment's hesitation and internal debate, Isabelle crossed the space between them and climbed into the chair with him, one of her knees on either side of his legs. It was a position they'd been in everyday for nearly two weeks, only with him facing away from her as they rode on horseback. Now they looked directly at each other, one with lust and the other with barely-contained surprise.

"I was thinking about whether my husband would consummate our marriage tonight or force me to wait longer," she said huskily, her face close enough to his that their lips brushed just the slightest with her words.

"Why wait until tonight?" Roan countered, his calloused hands settling on her thighs and trailing up to her waist, moving her shirt along with them. Isabelle shivered at the feeling of his hands on her skin and crashed her lips onto his.

Roan groaned into their kiss as Isabelle rubbed her hips into his, rubbing the quickly-hardening member beneath the laces of his pants. Her fingers were making quick work of the buttons on his shirt and she had just managed to slip her hands inside the material to touch his bare skin when there was a knock on the door.

"Go away," Roan called, allowing his lips to navigate the bare skin of Isabelle's neck.

"Sire, the leaders of the villages are waiting in the throne room for you," a woman's voice called through the door. "And they'd like to be introduced to the... Queen." She hesitated before referring to Isabelle as the Queen and the woman in question had to wonder if she was still loyal to Roan's mother.

Roan growled before grasping the back of Isabelle's neck and kissing her thoroughly. "We'll continue this later," he promised, voice low and gravelly with want.

"Yes, my king," Isabelle said with a smirk. She re-buttoned his shirt and slid off his lap. After a quick glance around she spotted a mirror on the other side of the room and checked her appearance for the first time since leaving Polis.

Her cuts were healing nicely, thanks to Clarke's salve, and soon would look almost identical to Roan's own scars. Unfortunately the rest of her was looking rough. Her hair was a tattered mess, as were her clothes, and she desperately needed to bathe. "Is there time to clean up?"

"Probably best not to keep them waiting too long." Roan finished lacing up his boots and crossed the room. Turning her around, his deft fingers undid the braids in her hair before beginning a new, single braid. Once it was done he wound it around to sit on the top of her head like a bun and pinned it in place.

Isabelle was shocked at his ability to make her hair look presentable despite not having been washed in over a week. "Wow," she whispered, gently touching the braid. "How did you learn how to do that?"

Roan scoffed softly with a smirk. "Have you seen my hair?"

A slow grin spread across Isabelle's face at his joke. She liked this side of him and hoped to see more of it in the future. Another knock interrupted their moment and the pair made their way to the door.

Outside the room a female warrior was pacing the hall. When they stepped out of their quarters she looked up quickly and took three long strides to reach Roan. "Sire," she said respectfully, bowing her head. Glancing down her nose at Isabelle, she quietly added, "My Queen."

"Isabelle," Roan said, settling his hand on the small of her back. Whether it was meant to offer comfort or not, she was grateful for the touch. "This is Echo; she is the captain of our army."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said politely, though she didn't entirely feel that way. This woman was looking at her with such contempt it almost made her want to run back into her and Roan's room to hide. Fortunately, Octavia and Lincoln came into view at the end of the hall and the younger woman sent her a reassuring nod.

The small group made their way through the immense building, Isabelle trying to commit some of it to memory lest she get lost, before making it to their destination. Azgeda's throne room was more open than the one in Polis, with tall windows casting in bright sunlight. Standing around the room were the leaders of the villages of the Ice Nation. Isabelle knew she'd be meeting them eventually, she just wasn't expecting it to be so soon. Now that they were standing there, watching her intently as she crossed the room with Roan, her confidence almost crumbled.

They ascended the steps to Roan's throne, Echo and Octavia and Lincoln taking their places at the bottom of the steps, and turned to face the crowd. "King Roan and Queen Isabelle," Echo announced and the village leaders knelt respectfully.

Roan sat on his throne and Isabelle stood beside it, trying to look confident. With everyone still kneeling she was able to scan the room easily. Her eyes passed over a young woman in rough clothing kneeling in the back of the room. She appeared to be a servant but when she raised her eyes to look at Isabelle, the new queen gasped in surprise.

"Rose?" she asked, eyes wide. Everyone in the room looked at Isabelle in confusion and followed her line of sight back to the visibly shaking woman.

Nodding her head, tears began to escape Rose's eyes as she took a few steps forward. Instantly she was held back by an Ice Nation guard who shouted at her in their language.

"Let her pass," Roan spoke up, standing beside his wife. "You know this woman?"

Isabelle descended the steps to meet Rose and the frail thing practically collapsed in her arms. "She's one of my people. We thought she died when Farm Station was attacked."

"We weren't killed," Rose finally spoke up, clinging to Isabelle for dear life. "They took us as slaves."

Isabelle felt like ice water was poured over her and she turned to look at her husband in shock. "You take people for slaves?"