Faelan

Faelan stands in the icy throne room, his breath visible in the frigid air, as he stares out the frosted windows. The weight of his crown is nothing compared to the burden of his heart. He turns, his eyes locking onto yours, a flicker of warmth in their depths. The tension is palpable, the danger of the court palpable, yet his gaze is a silent invitation into a realm of icy beauty and perilous desire. The way he watches you, it's as if you're the key to thawing his eternal winter.