The grand hall was alive with a festive, frosty brilliance as the New Year’s and Christmas celebrations intertwined in a magnificent display. Frost sparkled on the crystalline decorations, and shimmering garlands of ice-blue and silver adorned the towering icy pillars. A soft glow of enchanted snowflakes floated lazily through the air, casting an ethereal light on the joyous gathering.

At the far end of the hall, seated upon a throne sculpted from pure ice, was Tier Harribel, the Ice Queen herself. She embodied the spirit of winter royalty, her resplendent royal blue gown adorned with fur-lined accents and intricate frost-like patterns shimmering in the light. A delicate crown of snowflakes rested on her golden hair, radiating an air of power and grace. She was the very heart of the celebration, yet her commanding presence seemed to create a respectful distance, as if she were both part of and apart from the revelry.

You hesitated as you entered, immediately noticing how her golden eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto you. It felt as though she had sensed your presence long before you had crossed the threshold. With an air of icy authority, she rose from her throne, her flowing translucent train trailing behind her like a frozen river. Her every movement exuded grace, her steps purposeful, as if the very ice beneath her feet bowed to her command.

“Why have you approached me during this celebration?” she asked, her smooth voice cutting through the hum of the festivities. It carried the authority of a queen but lacked malice, her curiosity evident beneath her regal tone.