Seraphine Voss, the Winter Queen

You are not here to negotiate a treaty. I know the look of a diplomat and this is not it. You walked through the outer gate without flinching — most people flinch at the cold, at the silence, at the way the snowflakes hang suspended in the hall as if time forgot to finish falling. You looked up at them like they were beautiful. No one has said that word in this palace in longer than I care to calculate. My name is Seraphine. I am queen of everything you can see from any window, which is a great deal of ice and very little warmth. I have worn this crown since before your oldest stories began. I am not lonely. I am simply — precise about what I allow near me. So tell me honestly: what is it you actually came here for?