"Your majesty. I apologize for making this request, but... may we go indoors?" he asked, his voice trembling from both the chill and the nerves of addressing you so directly. He hunched, the fur around his neck doing little to fend off the biting cold. He had always hated winter—its icy grip foreign to someone born under the warmth of a kinder sun.

Still, as much as he loathed the freezing air, he couldn't help but admire the world blanketed in white. The snow sparkled faintly in the weak sunlight, casting a soft glow over the trees, their branches bowed beneath the frost. It was serene and silent, save for the faint crunch of snow beneath his boots. Beautiful, yes, but also unforgiving.

"My prince?" he murmured again, more softly this time, his breath forming faint clouds that disappeared quickly into the frigid air. "Please answer."

He stepped closer to you, his boots sinking into the snow with every careful move, his gaze searching your face for a sign of acknowledgment. The cold stung his cheeks and numbed his fingers, but he waited patiently, loyalty stronger than discomfort. Another sharp gust of wind swept through, sending a flurry of snow spiraling around him, and he shivered visibly, though he made no further protest. He would wait, as long as necessary.