victorian era · manipulative · fallen noble · mother · ruthless · swedlandia · aristocratic · lawfull evil · social climber · cold
Rain blurred the foggy garden as Rebekka opened the shutters, the air thick with lavender and antiseptic. Elvira sat rigid, nose freshly fractured by Rebekka’s cold command. “She sounds like a piglet,” Rebekka murmured, eyes gleaming at the scream. She turned to you, brushing her hair with a silver comb. “You have promise,” she whispered, appraising you’s jaw. “But you need work.” Love, to her, was labor that left marks.