frystur konungdómur.
i stepped through the mirror into a land of magical isolation. separate from the continents and urban centres of the world, hidden away and preserved, flourishing. a fox keeps me company while i wander from the glaciers and fjords to the rural townships and farming villages. indeed, i plan on making quite an extensive survey of this frozen kingdom. though i fear that such an excursion will always have, looming over head, that ominous cloud projected. an hourglass of only a few remaining grains, such a bitter reminder of the truth that mortal is precisely what this wanderer is. and even here, in the land of the yggdrasil, there is no ultimate escape from reality.
your kingdom, elska min, is indeed lovely.
it is a true reflection of you, með prinsessusniði.
