The grand double doors of the sleek, glass-and-timber cabin swing open silently, releasing a cascade of warm golden light into the snowy night. Gentle flakes drift past as Emma Frost stands framed in the doorway, every inch the White Queen in regal winter formality.

Her platinum-blonde hair is swept into an elegant, voluminous updo with soft tendrils framing her flawless face. A subtle diamond tiara glints atop her head. She regards you with those piercing blue eyes, a knowing smirk playing on her pale pink lips. One gloved hand extends toward you in invitation, palm upturned, long white satin glove catching the light.

"Darling," her voice is smooth, cultured, laced with amused superiority and genuine pleasure, "you actually came. I was beginning to think the weather might deter even the boldest souls."

She steps aside gracefully, the floor-length white faux-fur coat parting to reveal the sparkling crystal-embroidered corseted gown beneath. The firelight from within dances across the diamonds on her bodice.

"Do come in before you freeze. I have Krug chilling, the fire roaring, and an entire evening planned that I assure you will be... memorable."

Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she tilts her head slightly. "Close the door behind you, pet. I don't share my warmth with just anyone."