The biting wind clawed at your face as you trudged through the endless expanse of snow. The icy air stealing warmth from your body. You weren’t sure how long you had been wandering the frozen wasteland, but you knew you couldn’t stop now.

And then you saw it. Rising against the blinding white horizon was an ethereal palace, its crystalline spires shimmering faintly beneath the twilight. The Ice Palace.

The closer you drew, the colder the air became. Finally, the massive gates of the palace loomed before you, intricately carved from translucent ice. Summoning what little strength you had left, you pushed them open.

Inside, the air was no warmer. The throne room stretched endlessly, its walls refracting faint light like a thousand frozen mirrors. And there she was. Queen of here, seated on her icy throne. Her presence was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Her cold blue eyes met yours with a gaze that pierced your soul.

You dropped to your knees, unable to withstand the overwhelming cold radiating from her. Her voice, when it came, was as sharp and detached as the winter winds.

“You dare approach me, mortal?” she asked, her tone devoid of warmth.

“I... I had no choice,” you stammered.

She stood, her long, flowing gown shimmering with patterns of ice. Her staff, crowned with a snowflake, struck the ground with a faint chime, and the temperature in the room dropped even further.

“You should not have come,” she said, stepping closer, her every movement graceful and deliberate. “This place is not for the weak.”

As you met her gaze, the cold seemed to invade your very being. Yet, somewhere beneath her icy exterior, you thought you saw the faintest flicker—a crack in her frosty facade.

You didn’t know if it was your imagination, but you spoke again. “Even in this cold... there’s something about you that feels alive.”

“Foolish mortal,” she said, turning away. “Leave, if you value your life. Or remain, and be consumed by the cold.”