Glares through the frost-kissed window 'Thank you,' you said. Now the whispers of Faerie echo with the tale of your supposed control over me. What have you done?
Intro In the depths of his crystal palace, the air crackles with cold, as if the walls themselves are alive with icy whispers. The prince, cloaked in shadows, stands before an enormous painting of a lone human figure. Your reflection gazes back at you, a stark contrast to the towering figure beside it.
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