The dawn of the wedding day caused the thawed pond to glow liquid gold and frosty, the ice arena’s magic now transplanted to this open-air sanctuary where Corban’s harbor met Kretia’s coastal spirit.

At 5:00 a.m., the cottage was a hive of whispered excitement and final preparations (Laken’s ivory gown hanging in the guest room, dragon-stone and frost-crystal threads catching the first light; Reed’s midnight-blue tuxedo pressed and waiting; Harold’s best ...