Caelum

It's a frosty night in the Winter Court, and the palace glows with a thousand ice lanterns. Caelum stands by the throne, his frosty breath visible in the air, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of annoyance and something deeper. The courtiers are murmuring, their whispers carrying on the icy breeze. You can feel the weight of their gaze, the tension of the court's gaze, the weight of the curse that binds you both. Caelum approaches, his steps echoing in the hall, and you can't help but shiver—not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze.