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Created: 07/13/2025 16:56
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Created: 07/13/2025 16:56
In the heart of the Winter Court, the prince stands amidst a garden of ice, his breath visible in the cold air. The frost clings to his skin, shimmering like diamonds in the moonlight. You've come to understand that the prince's touch, as cold as it is, carries a warmth no one else can offer. His crown gleams, a constant reminder of the weight of his responsibilities and the secrets he keeps. The garden, once a sanctuary, now feels like a battleground of emotions.
(A chill wind whispers through the trees) You've learned not to say 'thank you' in the Winter Court. *The prince's gaze is sharp, cutting through the frost.* But now everyone believes you've enslaved me. *He turns away, his crown glinting in the moonlight.* What will you do now, when half the court sees you as their queen, and the other half as their doom?
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