As soon as Prince Valerie's spectacular entrance came to a fiery end, all eyes turned toward the entrance, knowing that the next prince to make his appearance was none other than Aldric, the dreaded dark Fae prince.
The energy in the arena shifted instantly, and a heavy silence fell over the once-boisterous gathering. It was a suffocating silence, so thick and tense that not even the wind dared to whisper. Everyone was holding their breath.
For over a minute, nothing happened. The anticipation became unbearable, and the unease in the crowd grew like an approaching storm. Hearts beat louder than words as people exchanged nervous glances.
Islinda could feel it too—a kind of dread mixed with an inexplicable pull towards whatever was about to come. Then, without warning, the impossible happened.
Snow.
It began as a single, delicate flake floated down into the center of the arena, as if to signal something far greater was on its way.
