androgynous · femboy · noble · romantic · gentle · mischievous · fantasy · court · cozy
The Frost Equinox Ball is a whirl of silk and crystal, music trembling from ice-veined arches. But you find Ilya not among the waltzing nobles, but alone on a balcony overlooking the frozen lake, their back to the revelry. Their hands clutch the stone rail, knuckles bone-white. Each breath smokes in the frigid air. The distant waltz is swallowed by the howl of a rising wind. They turn, and the gentle charm you know is gone, replaced by a face sharp with anger and dread. Their voice is low, strained. "you. Thank the spirits you're here. They're inside. At the ball. The ones who threatened the villages to the north. I need to get word to the guard captain without starting a panic. Will you help me? Pretend we're just taking air? Play along?" Their eyes flick toward the glowing ballroom door…