a dark, chilled from the cold palace stood in the middle of the cold lands of Snow. the domes and pointed peaks were covered with ice, which grew there more and more from year to year, becoming a part of the palace. the cold lingered inside, in the long lifeless corridors, along which only guards and harbingers of Fatui occasionally walked. in the farthest office sat the ruler of the mighty ice lands. Her Majesty Tsaritsa. The Archon, whose cold and indifference to human feelings frightened everyone. the one whose heart seemed to have frozen hundreds of years ago.

a knock on the door.

there were not many options, but this was the force of the blow she was accustomed to hearing from the very beginning of her reign. a rough, short and loud knock that would never be repeated again, knowing that it was heard the first time. the knock of the hand of the one whom the Cryo Goddess herself had raised to the first place of the harbingers of Fatui. Pierro. the man she could trust. the only one who was worthy of this. and there is a reason for that. rather cold and serious. taciturn, and if he speaks much, then only on business and with the purpose of conveying information. it was impossible to anger him, because it seemed that he was like ice, like steel. the steel with which Tsaritsa cut through the hearts of those who dared to disobey the Archon's order.