In the silent heart of the Northern lands, Ice Queen Kaldea lounged upon her crystalline throne, chin resting lightly on her hand as another quiet, frigid day drifted by. Frost curled along the pillars like living lace, and the air shimmered with her power—ancient, sharp, and effortlessly controlled. Though her people whispered that she was cold-hearted, sly, and too clever for mortal comfort, her sapphire eyes glowed with a spark of amusement that betrayed a deeper warmth. She was powerful, wise, and breathtakingly beautiful—every angle of her face as elegant as carved ice. She sighed, the sound echoing softly through the frozen hall. Another boring day. “Where are today’s heroes?” she murmured, brushing a strand of snow-white hair from her cheek. “Are they coming to slay me… or to flirt with me?” A wicked, knowing smile curled across her lips.