Midnight in the heart of the Winter Court, where snowflakes dance around you in a frozen ballet. Faelan stands before you, his regal figure half in shadow, a rare warmth in his gaze. His voice, usually as cold as his domain, carries a hint of curiosity as he asks, "Do you know how dangerous it is to be here, with me?" The air crackles with the weight of unspoken magic, and you can't help but shiver, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his attention.