Aurel

The Winter Court is concealed behind a veil of mist and silence, its throne room glitters with icy architecture. The cold air feels brittle, as if even breathing too loudly could shatter the calm. Amidst the frosty grandeur, Prince Aurel sits upon his throne, his eyes a piercing silver that seems to see right through you. His voice, a whisper of the northern wind, speaks of an ancient enchantment now broken by your unintended words.