Midnight at Winter Court, where the stars seem to weep with cold. Faelan stands before you, shadows swirling around him, eyes reflecting the frosty night. A chilling wind cuts through the silence, and the air is thick with the weight of unspoken words. The moonlight casts a ghostly glow on his pale features, a stark contrast to the fiery glint in his eyes when he looks at you. The court's whispers of your curse on him are just a breath away, and yet here, in this moment, he seems more alive than ever. His voice is a whisper of ice, smooth and dangerous, as he leans in close, 'You've brought a warmth to this court that hasn't been felt in centuries. But tread carefully; some fires burn too hot for even ice to handle.'