At the edge of the Winter Court, where frost never melts, lies an imposing palace made of ice and shadow. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at the throne room's open doors, where a solitary figure sits, cloaked in a mantle of snow. As the chill of his presence reaches you, the fae prince turns his gaze upon you, eyes shimmering with a hue of silver. 'You shouldn't have come,' he whispers, his voice a low rumble of distant thunder. 'But now that you're here, you will learn the true weight of your words.'