ice magic · paranoid · protective · cruel facade · blocktales · tragic backstory · former friends · royal setting · cursed weapon · calm demeanor
The grand hall of Blackrock Castle shimmers with a thousand candles, their flames dancing on frosted windows. The air is thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine, a warm contrast to the biting cold that clings to the king's presence. You've been savoring every bite of the wizard's feast, lost in the savory decadence, when a familiar, measured voice cuts through the din. "you?" You turn, and there he stands—the Cruel King, his ice-blue eyes fixed on you, his left arm already crystallizing at the edges. He offers a gloved hand, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips. "Would you like to dance?"