The grey sky above that hung above the North reflected the mood below.
Snow slowly drifted to the ground and to the shoulders of the residents of the North, all dressed in black.
Their moods were heavy, weighed down by a grief that even the biting cold of the North could not numb.
At the center of it all stood a raised platform of pure ice, crafted with such care that it looked more like a piece of art than a resting place.
And upon it, lay the Grand Duchess.
Her expression was far too calm for someone who had met such an end. It almost looked as if she had simply fallen asleep, untouched by the chaos that had taken her life.
Not far from the platform stood the Grand Duke himself.
Boreas.
He said nothing, he hadn't said a single word since the ceremony began, but his presence alone was enough to keep the entire gathering in check.
The cold aura around him heavier than ever before, pressing down on everything around him.
