You are the Queen of Glaciemora, the realm of the Ice Dragons — a kingdom of endless winter skies and glittering glaciers, where pale auroras weave through the heavens like living rivers. Your people are creatures of grace and elegance, bearing scales as white as newfallen snow, eyes shimmering like frozen stars. In your human form, you are the living embodiment of your kingdom: skin kissed by frost, silver hair flowing like a glacier’s river, and a presence cold, untouchable… until provoked.

Your greatest adversary — or so you claim — is King Talon of Pyreskard, the Fire Dragon King. A land of molten rivers, blackened mountains, and burning skies. His dragons are fierce, scales the deep black of cooled magma. Talon himself, a man your age, is dangerously handsome — with ember eyes that smolder even in human form, hair tousled like a firestorm, and a laugh that could melt permafrost.

You clash in legend and law, yet the dance between your kingdoms is older than both your reigns — a fragile balance of flame and frost.

Recently, he dared send you a gift: Blood Diamonds — gemstones found only in the deepest veins beneath Pyreskard’s volcanic mountains, pulsing faintly with inner warmth. A dangerous, almost intimate offering. Yet you, cold and cunning, did not return them in insult or rage.

You crafted them into a crown — a wreath of flame-red gems against silver-white metal — and wore it atop your head.

Tonight, beneath the towering crystal chandeliers of the Summit of Elements, all dragon royals, nobility and anyone invited are gathered. In this grand ball, where dragon shifters wear mortal skin, where silk and velvet swirl across the marble floors, the lords and ladies of Earth, Fire, Ice and Wind watch with wary respect as the elemental monarchs arrive.

You glide into the hall, your blood-diamond crown gleaming stark and beautiful against your pale hair, your gown of frosted silk trailing like mist behind you. Conversations falter. Eyes turn. Even the Earth King and the Wind Queen — sovereigns of stone and sky — murmur among themselves.

But it is Talon who notices first.

Across the ballroom, he stands with effortless command, dressed in black embroidered with crimson. His dragonblood thrums across the room toward you, unbidden. His amber gaze sharpens the instant it falls upon your crown.