From a distance, the frost palace stood as a magnificent spectacle, its towering structure carved from pure ice that glistened in the sunlight. Surrounding the palace was a blanket of pristine snow, untouched and sparkling like a million diamonds scattered across the ground.
The palace itself was a masterpiece of architectural brilliance, with intricate designs etched into the ice, creating a mesmerizing play of light and shadow.
On the balcony, a vision of beauty graced the scene. Princess Yin Mei, her delicate features framed by silky tresses that cascaded over her shoulders, sat in a regal pose.
Her clear, melodic voice filled the air as she sang a haunting melody, each note carrying the weight of centuries-old sorrow and longing. Her dress, a shimmering masterpiece of gossamer fabric, seemed to flow like water around her lithe form, enhancing her ethereal beauty.
As the last notes of her song faded into the crisp winter air, a smattering of applause echoed from below. A maid, clad in a simple yet elegant uniform, approached the balcony, her footsteps muffled by the soft snow. "A beautiful piece as always, Saintess Yin Mei," she said, her voice tinged with reverence. "But you really need to go and greet the guests from the Avalon Empire. They've just arrived."
Yin Mei's expression remained impassive, betraying none of the turmoil that raged within her. She stood, her delicate hands holding the folds of her dress, and glided past the maid, her movements graceful and fluid.
Inwardly, her thoughts churned with bitterness.
'There is no such thing as greeting the guests,' she mused, her lips pursed into a thin line. 'They merely wish to sell me off to the prince of the Avalon Empire in exchange for protection, like sacrificial livestock to those shameless old men.'
Memories of her father, the former ruler of the Frost Empire, flickered through her mind. He had been a beacon of strength and power, never bowing to the whims of others or seeking aid.
But the constant struggle against the encroaching demon horde had taken its toll, and they had pushed him to the brink until his eventual demise. Now, in the absence of his formidable presence, the empire teetered on the edge of ruin, and the elders saw no other recourse than to barter away their princess to secure the protection of the Avalon Empire.
Yin Mei descended the icy stairs, her footfalls echoing through the cavernous halls of the palace. The interior was a breathtaking display of beauty, with clear gems embedded in the walls, catching and refracting the light in a dazzling array of colors. Intricate carvings adorned every surface, telling the tales of a once-mighty empire and its valiant rulers.
As she entered the main hall, her gaze fell upon a striking figure – a tall, handsome young man whose very presence exuded an aura of nobility and power. This was the prince of the Avalon Empire, flanked by two imposing guards clad in gleaming armor.
His sharp features and piercing eyes held a hint of arrogance, befitting of one born into such immense privilege.
Yin Mei fought the urge to curl her lip in disdain, for she knew this man had come to claim her as a prize, a mere bargaining chip in the games played by those who held the reins of power.
Yet, she could not deny the stirrings of curiosity deep within her, a desire to understand the man who would soon hold sway over her fate.
As she approached, the prince's gaze locked onto her, his eyes raking over her form with a hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he inclined his head in a mockery of respect. "Princess Yin Mei," he purred, his voice rich and velvety. "It is an honor to finally make your acquaintance."
Yin Mei steeled herself, determined to meet his gaze with unwavering defiance. Though her heart raced with trepidation, she would not show weakness in the face of this arrogant prince. For she was the last remnant of a once-great empire, a living embodiment of the pride and strength that had defined her people.
And though the path ahead seemed shrouded in darkness, she would walk it with her head held high, refusing to surrender her dignity to those who sought to control her destiny.
Yin Mei bowed her head gracefully, "Saintess Yin Mei of the Frost Palace greets the prince." The prince reached out, taking her delicate hand in his, and brought it to his lips, planting a lingering kiss upon her knuckles. His gaze met hers, eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that sent a wave of revulsion through her body.
Though every fiber of her being recoiled from his lecherous stare, Yin Mei maintained an impassive facade, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of seeing her discomfort.
*crack
The scene froze, shattering like delicate ice into a million shimmering shards, each piece reflecting the twisted reality she had envisioned.
…
Mei Ling jolted awake, her hand clutching her throbbing head as a piercing scream tore from her throat, reverberating through the halls with an intensity that caused Chen Mo to start from his meditative trance.
"That must be Mei Ling," he murmured, rising to his feet with fluid grace. "She finally woke up."
It had been three days since the heated battle with the Mei clan, and Mei Ling had remained in a deep slumber ever since, her body utterly spent from the berserk frenzy that had drained her spiritual energy.
Chen Mo had assumed she merely needed rest, and so he had allowed her to recover undisturbed.
With purposeful strides, he made his way to her chamber, sliding open the door to reveal a scene of chaos. Mere seconds after crossing the threshold, a blur of motion caught his peripheral vision, and he reacted instinctively, catching the razor-sharp claw mere inches from his face.
His grip tightened around Mei Ling's wrist, restraining her as she thrashed violently, her eyes wild and unfocused.
"What's wrong with you?" Chen Mo demanded, his gaze sweeping over her disheveled form. His breath caught in his throat as he met her stare, one eye a blazing crimson, the other a piercing icy blue.
Sensing the turbulent energy cascading from her body, he cautiously channeled a steady stream of his own spiritual energy into her, watching as the tension gradually seeped from her muscles.
"Are you okay? It's me" he asked, his voice laced with concern. When she offered no response, he reached out, gently brushing aside the tresses that obscured her face. "Mei Ling?"
Her head snapped up; eyes boring into his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "Stop calling me that," she demanded, her tone dripping with authority. "I'm not Mei Ling."