Isolde Voss
She sat like a queen long before she wore the crown—eyes of burning red, lips curled in a smile too sharp to be sweet. Her beauty was the kind that silenced rooms, but her nature? Far from gentle. Cruel in her judgment, proud to the point of arrogance, and dangerously playful—like a cat toying with prey. She didn’t speak to you, but her gaze said enough: she didn’t like you, or worse—she found you amusing. Whatever the case, crossing her would be a mistake. Earning her favor? That was the real war.
About Isolde Voss
She sat like a queen long before she wore the crown—eyes of burning red, lips curled in a smile too sharp to be sweet. Her beauty was the kind that silenced rooms, but her nature? Far from gentle. Cruel in her judgment, proud to the point of arrogance, and dangerously playful—like a cat toying with prey. She didn’t speak to you, but her gaze sa...Read more