The wind blew stronger as the group approached the gates of Cristhalis Palace. The bluish mist that enveloped the city seed to thicken there—as if the very air carried the Monarch’s presence. The surrounding towers rose like glass needles, reflecting the weak light of the pale sun, and the sound of ice cracking under the constant cold echoed like a distant murmur of sothing alive—and hungry.
Shura stopped before the imposing doors. His golden eyes flashed, and he let out a deep growl, observing the runes that covered the crystal. "These inscriptions... are ancient. Very ancient. Containnt magic."
The soldier turned imdiately. "Please, stay behind . No visitor passes through these gates without being properly announced."
Scarlet crossed her arms, impatient. "Seriously? After all this sightseeing through the frozen cetery, we still have to wait?"
The soldier ignored her and approached the large door, placing his hand on its center. The runes glowed in response to his touch, emitting a sharp sound that reverberated throughout the bridge. The cold thickened, and for a mont, the air seed to stop moving.
From within, a deep crack echoed—a dry sound, like ice shattering into a thousand fragnts. The doors began to open slowly, creaking with a heavy noise, and a blast of icy air escaped from within, so cold that even Shura’s breath turned into crystals that shimred before falling to the ground.
"This way," said the soldier, resuming his pace.
Strax followed him, with Scarlet and Shura close behind. The interior of the palace was even more impressive—and colder. The walls were translucent, pulsing with a deep blue light reminiscent of the glow of stars trapped in ice. Crystal sculptures adorned the corridor, depicting ancient figures—warriors, mages, and a crowned woman whose expression was both serene and nacing.
"She likes to surround herself with mirrors of herself, apparently," Scarlet murmured with a sarcastic smile.
"These aren’t mirrors," Shura replied quietly. "They’re mories."
Strax glanced quickly at the tiger. "mories?"
The feline nodded gravely. "Ancient magic. The ice absorbs what it witnesses. These walls... have seen more deaths than any battlefield."
The soldier looked over his shoulder, his expression rigid. "Silence. We’re approaching the royal hall."
They passed through a crystal arch adorned with ice spears suspended in the air—a kind of magical portal. As they crossed it, Strax felt a slight pressure on his body, as if sothing were probing him from within. The magic of the place recognized him—and asured him.
Scarlet shuddered. "I hate this kind of magic. It’s like being stripped bare inside."
Shura chuckled softly. "Then get used to it. She likes to see everything that enters her domain."
When the corridor ended, the great throne room revealed itself before them—the sa place where, monts before, the Monarch had waited. The ceiling was so high that the columns seed to disappear into the icy mist above. Crystals floated in the air, as if ti had stopped there.
In the background, on the crystal throne, she awaited them.
Her presence was almost suffocating. No movent, no gesture—only the feeling of being observed by sothing much greater than a re human. Her blue eyes shone intensely, fixed on Strax like blades dissecting his soul.
The soldier stopped a few ters from the throne and knelt. "Your Majesty, as ordered—the Lord of Asgard, Strax, and his attendants."
The Monarch’s voice filled the hall, cold and clear as the sound of an ice bell. "You may leave."
The man lowered his head and retreated swiftly, disappearing down the side of the hall.
The silence that followed was absolute. No sound but the soft crackling of the ice.
Scarlet observed everything, her eyes narrowed, assessing every detail—the throne, the columns, the polished floor. Shura remained motionless, but his fur stood on end; his feline instinct scread that this place was dangerous.
Strax, in turn, calmly dismounted from Shura. His footsteps echoed on the mirrored floor as he advanced to the permitted limit. His posture was firm, respectful, but his eyes—intense, golden like contained fire—did not stray from hers.
"Your Highness," he said, his deep voice breaking the silence, but seemingly tinged with irony. "I was surprised by your call; I even thought it might be a trap, but it seems..." he paused briefly, "You must want to talk about ’business’".
The Monarch observed him for a long mont, her gaze impassive. When she finally spoke, her voice seed to glide through the air like a blade of ice.
"You talk too much for soone who sent spies to my kingdom," she said, looking at him.
Strax smiled and joked, "I’m sure you did the sa, or do you think it’s normal for you to know my na when I never let it leave Asgard?" Strax said, his eyes gleaming gold.
Scarlet raised her chin, smiling proudly, after all... It was clear this was a diplomatic war, unlike the Beast Monarch who was pure force... This woman... She was too intelligent.
Strax kept smiling, but his golden gaze didn’t stray for a mont from the Monarch’s. The air between them seed to freeze, heavy, as if the very molecules feared to move. The tension in the hall was almost palpable—the kind of silence that precedes a storm.
"I see you’re well inford about ," he said, his voice laden with irony, the words sounding almost like a provocation. "Tell , Your Highness... how have you been? Because, from what I’ve seen outside, your kingdom doesn’t exactly seem... prosperous."
The slight arching of her eyebrows was the only sign that the provocation had hit its mark. A chilling smile curved the Monarch’s lips, a beautiful and cruel smile, more like the reflection of a blade than a human gesture.
"You observe too much for a visitor," she replied calmly. "But don’t worry. Cristhalis’s situation is only... temporary. The cold is both a blessing and a curse, Strax. It destroys the weak, but preserves the strong."
Strax let out a low, hoarse laugh, echoing softly through the hall. "Interesting philosophy... though it sounds more like a convenient justification for a throne surrounded by corpses."
The columns trembled slightly. The temperature dropped. The sound of cracking ice echoed in the distance, and flakes began to fall from the ceiling like small shards of glass. Scarlet, behind him, reached for the hilt of her sword, and Shura bowed, growling softly.
But the Monarch rely observed him—cold, impassive. Her blue eyes glead with sothing difficult to describe: a mixture of anger and...curiosity.
"You are bold, Strax," she said at last, her voice too calm. "Few would dare speak to like that within my own palace."
"Few have a reason," he replied. "But I didn’t co here to asure who has the coldest throne. I ca because you wanted to see . So tell —why?"
The Monarch walked slowly around him, her light, rhythmic steps echoing like broken bells. The sound of her icy armor mingled with the creaking of the columns, and wherever she passed, the ground seed to freeze a little more.
"I just wanted to see with my own eyes the man who dared to enslave the Beast Monarch," she said, her tone almost casual, but every word sharp as a blade. "The man who conquered a realm of monsters, who transford fury into power. Many speak of you, Strax... but I prefer to judge for myself."
Strax raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "’Enslave’ is an ugly word, Your Highness. I rely... established a hierarchy. And he understood his place."
She looked him up and down, her blue eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "And your place, Strax? Where exactly do you place yourself?"
The dragon tilted his head, smiling slightly. "Wherever I want."
The silence that followed was so thick that even the sound of the wind outside seed to cease.
The Monarch observed that smile—that insolence wrapped in calm—and, for a brief mont, her lips curved into sothing that could almost have been a genuine smile. "I understand now why the Beast Monarch knelt before you. The fire that moves him is... different."
"You seem well-inford about what happens within the walls of Asgard," Strax replied, narrowing his eyes. "More than you should be, perhaps."
Scarlet mirrored his subtle smile, noticing his tone—not just provocation, but a test. Strax was probing her defenses, just as she was probing his.
The Monarch crossed her hands in front of her body, elegant and nacing at the sa ti. "Information is the lifeblood of a kingdom. I simply keep mine pulsing."
Strax took a slight step forward, his voice low and firm. "Or maybe soone is whispering this information in your ear. Soone very close to ..." He paused for a mont, his golden eyes gleaming dangerously. "...or to you."
The Monarch’s eyes narrowed, and a slight tremor ran through the floor—not caused by anger, but by a force that seed to pulse naturally from within her. "Are you accusing of espionage?"
"I’m saying," Strax replied with a calm smile, "that soone is more interested in than they should be."
For a brief mont, her gaze shifted, sothing like a shadow crossing her cold features. It was an almost imperceptible movent, but Strax noticed it. The minimal reaction he was looking for.
Scarlet leaned slightly toward him, whispering, "You’re poking a sleeping storm."
"Sotis," he murmured in response, "it’s the best way to find out where the wind is coming from."
The Monarch looked at him again, her expression completely composed. "You don’t change, do you?"
"Nor do I intend to."
She let out a soft sigh, an almost human gesture, but one that conveyed no warmth. "You are arrogant, impetuous, and provocative... exactly as they said. But I must admit—it’s interesting to see that up close."
Strax tilted his head, the smile still present. "And you are cold, controlled, and lethal... exactly as they said. But I must admit—you are more beautiful than I imagined."
For a brief instant, sothing that could have been surprise passed before her eyes. A flash so quick it might have been just an illusion caused by the light of the crystals.
"Careful, Strax," she replied, sitting back down on her throne. "Words can freeze as deeply as ice."
"And so burn more than fire," he retorted calmly.
The hall fell silent again. Neither of them looked away. It was a silent confrontation—of power, of presence, of will.
Shura shifted restlessly, his tail sweeping the floor. "Are you two going to keep staring at each other until the sun goes down?"
Scarlet let out a discreet laugh. "I think they’re trying to see who blinks first."
The Monarch ignored the comnts and rested her chin on her hand, observing Strax as if appraising a rare gem. "You know, I could have had my guards eliminate you as soon as you crossed the gates. But I preferred to et you personally. There’s sothing about you... that intrigues ."
Strax crossed his arms, his tone heavy with irony. "And I thought I was just an honored guest."
"It depends on how you interpret the invitation," she replied, with an enigmatic smile. "So guests leave here in glory... others, with ice statues made in their likeness."
"Too bad I have enough fire to burn your entire kingdom if I wanted to," he said, his golden eyes gleaming.
User Comments
0 comments from readers