The wind blew stronger as the group approached the gates of Cristhalis Palace. The bluish mist that enveloped the city seemed 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 something 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. Containment magic."

The soldier turned immediately. "Please, stay behind me. No visitor passes through these gates without being properly announced."

Scarlet crossed her arms, impatient. "Seriously? After all this sightseeing through the frozen cemetery, 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 moment, the air seemed to stop moving.

From within, a deep crack echoed—a dry sound, like ice shattering into a thousand fragments. 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 shimmered 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 menacing.

"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 memories."

Strax glanced quickly at the tiger. "Memories?"

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 something were probing him from within. The magic of the place recognized him—and measured 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 same place where, moments before, the Monarch had waited. The ceiling was so high that the columns seemed to disappear into the icy mist above. Crystals floated in the air, as if time had stopped there.

In the background, on the crystal throne, she awaited them.

Her presence was almost suffocating. No movement, no gesture—only the feeling of being observed by something much greater than a mere human. Her blue eyes shone intensely, fixed on Strax like blades dissecting his soul.

The soldier stopped a few meters 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 screamed 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 moment, her gaze impassive. When she finally spoke, her voice seemed to glide through the air like a blade of ice.

"You talk too much for someone who sent spies to my kingdom," she said, looking at him.

Strax smiled and joked, "I'm sure you did the same, or do you think it's normal for you to know my name 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 moment from the Monarch's. The air between them seemed 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 informed about me," he said, his voice laden with irony, the words sounding almost like a provocation. "Tell me, 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 merely observed him—cold, impassive. Her blue eyes gleamed with something 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 me like that within my own palace."

"Few have a reason," he replied. "But I didn't come here to measure who has the coldest throne. I came because you wanted to see me. So tell me—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 seemed 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 transformed 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 merely… 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 seemed to cease.

The Monarch observed that smile—that insolence wrapped in calm—and, for a brief moment, her lips curved into something 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-informed 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 menacing at the same time. "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 someone is whispering this information in your ear. Someone very close to me…" He paused for a moment, 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 seemed to pulse naturally from within her. "Are you accusing me of espionage?"

"I'm saying," Strax replied with a calm smile, "that someone is more interested in me than they should be."

For a brief moment, her gaze shifted, something like a shadow crossing her cold features. It was an almost imperceptible movement, but Strax noticed it. The minimal reaction he was looking for.

Scarlet leaned slightly toward him, whispering, "You're poking a sleeping storm."

"Sometimes," 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, something 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 some 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 comments 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 meet you personally. There's something about you… that intrigues me."

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. "Some 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.

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