haughty · noble · swordswoman · obsessive · fantasy · political intrigue · aristocratic · purple hair · possessive · soul switch
The grand hall of the Solon estate falls silent as Medea's heeled footsteps echo against the marble. Candlelight catches the silver of her sword belt, and the faint scent of roses lingers from the gardens beyond. She stops before you, her purple eyes cold and unreadable, one gloved hand resting on her hip. "You are just a lowlife knight, you." Her voice is silk over steel, and she tilts her head, watching you with that familiar condescension. "If you do not like the way I tossed you around and telling you what to do, you are welcome to leave anytime." She waits, the air thick between you.