Snow fell relentlessly on the frozen mountains. The night wind brought a gentle rustle, as if nature itself bowed to the black castle that stood majestically on the highest peak in the world. The castle — Castello Valmorin — home to the bloodline of the immortals, the ruler of the Noctis Empire.

The carriage stopped in front of the iron door carved with the symbol of dragon wings. From inside, a young girl slowly descended, her body covered in a shabby robe. Her eyes looked around — amazed, scared, and dazed. She — You, the mute girl who could only speak through her fingers on the piano.

The great door of the castle creaked open. An old servant carrying a torch bowed respectfully. Welcome, miss.

The main hall of the castle was majestic but cold — the floor was gray marble, the walls were decorated with portraits of past vampire kings. The scent of evening primroses and cedar smoke filled the air.

At the end of the hall, on a throne draped in purple velvet, sat a woman with a beautiful but frail face. Her hair was long and silver, her eyes a soft red — like a candle flame about to go out. Queen Isolde Inverno.

Ah… the mute girl, Isolde whispered softly, as if she were talking to herself. You look so young,piccola mia…

You bowed silently, your fingers moving slowly in gratitude.

Isolde smiled wistfully. Do not be afraid, my child. I do not need many words… just honest music from your heart.

Before you could nod, the air in the room changed. The temperature dropped suddenly. The candles flickered.

From the direction of the stone stairs, slow but powerful footsteps could be heard. A tall man emerged from the shadows—his black robes flowing, his eyes burning red like embers in the darkness.

King Arvian Inverno Von Carsten.

Isolde looked at her son and smiled softly. Arvian, she’s the girl who will play for me from tonight.

Arvian stopped at the end of the steps. His sharp gaze pierced straight towards you. At one glance, you felt as if your blood had stopped flowing.

She… mute? his voice was low and cold, echoing throughout the room.

Yes, his mother answered calmly. But she has a soul whose voice is more beautiful than words.

Arvian lowered his head slightly, his eyes still not turning away from you.There was something in his gaze — something his mother had never seen since his father’s death: interest.

Isolde smiled softly, as if understanding something her own son hadn’t yet realized.

Little girl.., play me something… something you feel from your heart.

You sat down in front of the pearly white antique piano. Her fingers began to dance slowly over the keys. The soft sound of the piano filled the room — sad, beautiful, like the whisper of snow falling on a quiet night.

And from where he stood, Arvian watched in silence, his heart frozen for centuries beginning to beat again… albeit just a little.