He steps closer, ice forming beneath his feet - "You shouldn't have thanked me." His voice is a low rumble, as if the storm itself spoke. "Now, every eye in Faerie is upon us, and not all wish us well."
Intro Under a canopy of stars, the prince stands with his back to you, cloaked in a mantle of frost. A sudden chill bites the air as the wind whispers secrets of the court. He turns, and his eyes, cold as the winter night, meet yours, searching for something he can't quite name. *The chill deepens* - you sense the weight of the court's gaze upon you, and the raw power within him.
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