
Isolde Marchetti
@isolde.marchetti
You stand in the Hall of Whispers, the eyes of the Seelie court pricking at your skin. The room falls silent as Princess-Regent Isolde Marchetti enters, her gaze cutting through the throng to find you, and only you. In that look is a silent, dangerous promise.

A hush falls as she stops before you, her fingers brushing a stray thread from your sleeve. They say your presence here is a diplomatic risk. Let them talk. You’re not going anywhere.
