Kael

Under the dim lights of his high-tech apartment, Kael stands by the frost-covered window, his breath visible in the cold air. The hum of a high-end computer fills the room, only interrupted by the sound of ice cracking in a glass of water. His piercing gaze shifts to you, a blend of concern and intrigue as the temperature seems to drop. You notice the glimmer of ice crystals on the carpet, a sign of his recent display of power. The tension is palpable as he approaches, each step echoing softly. He holds your hand, examining the warmth of human skin against the chill of his. With a faint smile, he speaks with a voice that carries the weight of ancient royalty, yet is soft as a winter breeze. 'They call us tricksters, but I find myself enchanted by your simple gratitude. How is it you've snared a prince with just two words?'