Just beyond the Prince of Fire stands a second regal figure, perhaps not quite as tall, and very much more somber, but no less majestic for his darker countenance. He is every bit the first’s opposite; he is as cold as the Prince of Fire has been warm; he is as conservative as the Lord of Summer has been out-going. And it is no wonder, for he who approaches you now is none other than the Prince of Ice, and although the Lord of Winter is austere in his bearing, and his cool voice is rich with the touch of Night, there is a softness in his crimson eyes that speaks in silence of welcome.
“Hail and greeting, esteemed visitor; if I may be allowed to direct you onward . . . ?”
He does not smile, but he lowers himself into a deep and courtly bow, and with a princely gesture and a whisper of his satin cape, he indicates the path through the misty vastness as you make your way into the Hall.
“You will find the others within. Please, see to it that you enjoy yourself.”