A fairytale of a beautiful maiden, the beloved Frost Flower Princess was supposed to be staying in the comfort of her castle masquerading as a cage to protect her from the dangers outside, imprisoned by her own brothers.
That is, until a mysteri...
* "Where the north wind meets the sea, There's a river full of memory."
** Revontulet Palace - Frozen Throne Room
"How curious... truly curious," murmured a poised woman, her serene voice carrying a benevolent edge as she rested her chin gently upon her palm. Her gaze settled with quiet intensity upon Marquis Clovis Von Andri, a once-proud noble now fallen from grace.
The Marquis had recently been convicted of corruption and conspiracy by the Selfless Judge—the Benevolent Magistrate presiding over the Court of Generosity—and sentenced to a decade in a common prison.
"I granted you this audience because you were so adamant about proclaiming your innocence before the throne," Queen Ithuna Eirfrost Frostinelle spoke with calm authority.
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"And yet... You offer nothing new, only the same arguments you presented during your second trial."
Queen Ithuna Eirfrost Frostinelle's voice was calm, her tone as cool and measured as the frost-laced air of the Frozen Throne. Known across the realms for her nobility and unwavering benevolence, she stood as a pillar of grace—beloved wife to Emperor Ishildur Noel Frostinelle, who lay in an enchanted coma deep within the heart of the palace. Lately, however, whispers of his stirring breath and fluttering lashes hinted at his long-awaited return.
Before her, fallen noble Clovis Von Andri stood trembling—not from the cold, but from desperation.
"As I've said countless times, I am being framed—by my own daughter!" Clovis declared, his voice ringing with misplaced righteousness. He dared a step forward but was swiftly halted by the firm grip of two palace knights, their cold gazes warning him to go no further.
"A-and—I have a witness!" he stammered, raising his voice in urgency.
Queen Ithuna regarded him with the grace of falling snow—calm, unyielding, but fair. "Then present your witness," she said gently.
"The personal maid of my daughter," Clovis declared, clapping his hands with misplaced confidence. His voice rang out in the ice-veiled halls of the throne room.
The towering double doors creaked open, and two knights stepped forward, escorting a young maid. She moved with halting steps, her face pale beneath the palace's crystalline light. Her wide eyes, already rimmed with fear, flicked toward the silent figure standing beside Queen Ithuna—a glance that only deepened her trembling.
"She came to me in secret!" Clovis insisted, his desperation sharpening. "She confessed that my daughter bribed her—to bring about my ruin! The guilt of her deceit overwhelmed her after my wrongful imprisonment. She—she couldn't bear the burden! I raised my daughter with every ounce of care, and this is how she repays—!"
