The Kingdom of Eiscard…
A land towering with its mountains, glittering with its white palaces adorned with splendor. It was famed for a wealth beyond imagination and a military might that terrified any who dared approach its borders. It was not merely a kingdom; it was a fortress of steel, a living legend of glory and power.
And at the heart of this kingdom sat its king, Arkson.
A man of few words, yet his brief utterances were enough to bend the strongest men to their knees. He rarely smiled, and his silence was far more terrifying than the threats of others. Among the people, he was known as "The Ice King"—not only for the cold of his land, but for the chill of his heart and the gaze that pierced souls.
He had three queens, each with her share of influence within the palace:
Queen Elvira, the first, mother of Crown Prince Rainold, her daughter Selina, and her son Elian. A stern, formidable woman, feared even by some of the ministers.
Queen Melani, the second, sharp-witted with a venomous tongue. Mother to Adeline, Dimitri, and Avin.
Queen Loren, the third, youngest and boldest, famed for her vanity. Not a day passed without her flaunting her beauty or her excessive adornments. Mother to Nuria, Liana, and Erik.
Thus, the king had nine legitimate children… only nine.
But there was a tenth.
A daughter the public knew little of. They whispered of her as "the unknown daughter of the king", her blood mixed—her mother neither noble nor royal. They knew only her name: Irene.
---
Irene sat by her tall window, her long hair cascading down her shoulders like strands of gold, her pale face calm as a sheet of snow. Her blue eyes were not ordinary—they carried something cold. She did not laugh, and within the palace she was known for her composed silence that hid a long story. She was different from her siblings, as though she lived in another world, distant from the palace and all within it.
A light knock broke her reverie.
A maid entered and bowed.
"My lady… you are summoned to dinner with the entire royal family."
Irene gave a small nod without looking at her, and once the maid left, she closed her eyes briefly and exhaled slowly. Then she stood before the mirror, adjusted her hair, and made her way toward the grand dining hall.
She knew well that this dinner would not be ordinary, for rarely did the entire family gather at one table.
---
The royal table was as imposing as ever. The family sat in their usual places, while Irene was placed at the farthest end—seated as if she were a stranger in her own home.
The atmosphere was charged with the queens' usual hidden rivalry.
Queen Melani, the second, cut a piece of meat with a cold tone:
"Yesterday's banquet you arranged, Queen Loren—don't you think it was excessive? I felt as though I were attending a wedding. Surely the royal court does not need such pomp and noise."
Loren, the third, smiled and raised her glass lightly:
"Oh, but I see no harm in a little extravagance. After all, our lives are built upon it… But isn't it amusing you should call it a wedding? You are far too envious, Queen Melani."
Melani laughed loudly:
"Indeed, it was just like that. The invitations resembled those of your daughter's wedding. Don't you think it was embarrassing for her?"
Elvira, the first queen, intervened with a stern voice:
"Enough with such trifles."
Both fell silent.
Yet Elvira's gaze had shifted elsewhere—onto Irene. Her presence alone at the table seemed to rob her of appetite. For no one opposed Irene's existence in the palace more fiercely than she.
At last, Elvira spoke with arrogance:
"Speaking of weddings…"
Eyebrows rose, silence fell. She continued slowly, as though throwing a bomb into the midst of the table:
"Seven of our sons and daughters are already married, each with carefully arranged unions. But… three remain."
She paused for a moment, her eyes returning to Irene:
"Your name is Irene… is it not?"
Irene lifted her gaze, her cold eyes unwavering.
"You are nineteen now… aren't you?"
Loren interjected with a playful laugh:
"Indeed, she is. My, isn't it strange? Even if she has never been formally introduced to the public, everyone knows the king has a tenth daughter named Irene. And yet, no one has ever come to ask for her hand. Why, my little Liana received proposals even at the age of ten, from other kingdoms no less!"
Selina, daughter of the first queen, leaned her head with a mocking smile:
"It isn't strange at all… Simply because no one would risk their reputation by marrying this one."
She turned her gaze toward Irene and added:
"They would ruin their image before the whole kingdom by doing so."
Irene lowered her fork slowly, her eyes lingering on her sister.
Selina sneered:
"What's with that stare?"
Adeline, daughter of the second queen, her voice dripping with poison:
"Oh my, just look at her. She's terrifying. Even if someone dared to approach… he would surely withdraw at once. Just look into those eyes—aren't they frightening?"
The wife of Elian (son of the first queen) laughed, covering her mouth:
"A princess of nineteen, and not a single suitor dares inquire after her. What a disgrace—how utterly embarrassing."
Laughter echoed, mocking glances all converging upon her. The grand table turned into a courtroom, and Irene sat as the lone accused.
But she did not speak. She did not deny, did not defend, did not react. For she knew such words were useless with these people. She had grown accustomed to them ever since the first day she entered the royal palace.
---
King Arkson raised his glass slowly, his gaze sweeping across them all until it halted on Irene.
He gave a small, cold smile, and spoke a single word:
"Enough."
Silence blanketed the hall in an instant, as though the air itself had been cut.
Then his icy voice rose again:
"The first queen is right."
Irene lifted her head toward him, her eyes betraying nothing.
He continued with chilling calm:
"I have thought on the matter. You shall be summoned soon regarding this. Be ready."
All eyes shifted between king and daughter.
She raised her head and answered with a steady, composed tone:
"As you command, my lord."
Then, after a slight pause, she added, her voice heavier:
"I will rise to what you ask of me… as I always have."
No one noticed how her fingers tightened around the rim of her glass for the briefest moment—before loosening again.
"Tonight… it begins."