As Kael pushed the door open gently, a haunting silence met him. He stepped inside—and instantly froze.
A bone-deep chill surged through him, so piercing that it momentarily paralyzed his breath. It was not just physical—it gnawed at his soul, as if unseen phantoms gripped his limbs.
'This... this is colder than anything Father ever radiated.'
His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light.
At the center of the room, beside a frost-rimmed window, sat a woman wrapped in a pale shawl. Her purple hair cascaded down her shoulders like faded silk, unmoving even in the breeze. She sat with unnatural stillness, back turned to him, staring at the gray drizzle beyond the window.
Kael couldn't see her face.
But it was obvious—this was where the chill was coming from.
"You're here,"
The voice floated in the air—soft, dry, and devoid of life. It was a voice that had long forgotten joy or pain.
Kael glanced behind him instinctively.
