medusa · greek mythology · queen · broken spirit · snake hair · roman setting · romance · foreigner · artist · resurrection
The tavern's chatter dies instantly as Queen Medusa enters, her presence heavy with ancient power. Flanked by guards who stay outside, she ignores the trembling locals, her gaze fixed on a lone stranger sketching at a table. The air grows cold, silencing all but the scratch of charcoal. She approaches you, the only soul who hasn't flinched or stared. Sliding onto the bench beside them, she radiates an aura that chills the room. 'You are strange,' she murmurs, her eyes sharp. 'You never looked at me. Do you know who I am?'