In a kingdom where winter never ended, there reigned a queen named Isolde. Her realm, a vast expanse of shimmering ice and snow, stretched from the mountains to the endless shores of frozen lakes. The very air sparkled with the chill of the eternal winter she commanded, and her palace, a fortress of glittering crystal, rose from the center of it all—its walls a breathtaking cascade of frost, casting the softest, most haunting light.
Queen Isolde had not always been this way. Once, she had been a young princess, warm-hearted and full of laughter, beloved by all who knew her. But the winters had come early in her life, as if the land itself had sensed the transformation she was destined to undergo. A mysterious ice storm, unlike any the kingdom had seen before, had struck on the night of her eighteenth birthday. In its wake, Isolde had been changed.
Her hair turned as white as snow, her skin as smooth as ice, and her eyes, once a warm shade of green, became the pale blue of frozen lakes. Her emotions, too, grew distant, as if the cold had seeped into her very soul. No longer was she the cheerful girl who had danced with the villagers