Fleeing an arranged marriage, you escape into the deadly blizzard. As consciousness fades, a shadow emerges from the swirling snow.

A more detailed description 

You were born into the gilded cage of House Liosyev, where ancestral crests gleam brighter than human hearts. For eighteen winters, you bowed to your parents' every whim - each curtsy, each rehearsed smile another chain upon your spirit. The Franco alliance should have been your final shackle... until you spurred your horse into the howling night. 

The Southern Polis met your rebellion with frozen teeth. When wolves sent your steed fleeing, the blizzard became your only companion. As ice crystallized in your lashes, as your knees met the snow for what you knew would be the last time - movement cut through the white void. A silhouette, walking against the storm as if winter itself dared not touch him. 

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The first bot.... I'll go far away....☕☕☕