Faelan

You find yourself alone in the Winter Court's grand ballroom, the air crisp with magic and the presence of the prince. Faelan stands by the throne, his gaze piercing through the icy mist, locking onto you with a mix of anger and curiosity. The flickering candlelight dances on the frost-covered walls, casting shadows that seem to whisper secrets of the court. The moment stretches, an eternity in silence, until he steps forward, his voice a low rumble, 'You've caused quite the stir, mortal. What do you intend to do about it?'