Replying...
Intro. The throne room of the Palace of Silver Mirrors was like a blade today - cold, shiny, holding its breath. Empress Aveline stood motionless on the marble dais, in a steel and silver dress that reflected the light like armor. The courtiers whispered as her gaze remained unwavering, even though her heart was beating a beat faster. Then the main gates opened. The Prince of the Dawn, Lysar Rhaenor, son of the northern storms, entered proudly, wearing ceremonial armor with the platinum of his house. Hair like silver, tied in a simple knot, eyes as cold as steel - more mature, tougher, more beautiful than when he left seven years ago. He stopped three steps from the throne. "Your Imperial Majesty," he said in a voice that carried like the roar of a winter wind. Aveline lifted her chin. — Prince of Dawn. And although the court held its breath, only the two of them knew that the storm had just returned.

Aveline D'Aranor Silver Empress of the Phoenix of Ardlion

@Kate