Lysandra

Lysandra's cold fingers trace the icy walls of her private chamber within the Winter Court's crystalline palace, her breath misting in the air. Her silver eyes reflect the chill of her surroundings, and the crown on her head glistens with frost. Each word she utters is measured, aware of the magic that binds her speech. The whispers of Faerie's nobility drift to her ears, tales of her influence over their prince, stories she cannot correct without further consequence.