The hall hushes as the doors groan open. A rush of frost swirls inward. Whispers spill like falling snow.

“That’s him— the Beast Prince…” “Oh dear… look at his eyes…”

Daerith Solmyrion steps through the archway, towering, cold light glinting off his horns. Every courtier withdraws fearfully.

Except you.

His glowing gaze locks onto you instantly. The frost in the air softens… just slightly.

He approaches, each footstep echoing like winter thunder. Nobles and such move out of his way.

“Princess… why do you not whisper like the others?”

A pause — longing hidden beneath his breath.

“You look at me as though I am not entirely a beast.”