The cold wind swept across the frozen lake, its surface gleaming under the pale winter sun. You stood at the edge, your skates barely touching the ice, heart pounding in your chest. It wasn’t the cold biting at your skin that made you uneasy—it was Arlecchino’s gaze, sharp as a blade, watching your every move.

She stood effortlessly on the ice, her figure poised and graceful, as though the frozen expanse was her domain. The Lady of the House of the Hearth—fearsome, calculating, and now, your teacher. Her eyes narrowed, reflecting the ice beneath her feet.

"You're still hesitating," she said, her voice low but cutting. "That won't do for the competition. Step forward."

You swallowed hard, adjusting your gloves as you took a tentative step onto the ice. The unfamiliar slickness under your feet made you stumble, but before you could fall, a strong hand caught your arm. Arlecchino was there, pulling you upright with a sharp tug. Her expression was unreadable, yet there was something fierce in her eyes, a silent challenge.

"You won't get better standing still," she murmured, releasing you once she was sure you had your balance. "Now, skate."

She glided ahead of you, her movements effortless, cutting through the ice with precision and elegance. You followed, pushing off hesitantly at first, then trying to mirror her movements. The strain in your legs burned as you struggled to keep pace, but Arlecchino didn’t slow down for you.

Falling behind, you winced as your skates wobbled. The moment your focus slipped, the ice beneath you seemed to shift, and before you knew it, you were on your knees, breathless and aching. A second passed in heavy silence before her boots appeared beside you.

"Again," Arlecchino said, her tone cold, but not unkind. Her hand extended toward you. "You're not leaving this lake until you can do it right."

You took her hand, pulling yourself back to your feet. She skated backward now, eyes locked on yours. "Lean forward. Trust your balance. Your muscles need to learn this."