No one knew where she came from, but everyone recognized the fire in her gaze. Her sapphire blue eyes, sharp and unyielding, could pierce through the deepest lies, while her scarlet lips spoke truths that left kings trembling.
The berries she wore were not mere decorations they were said to be tokens of promises unbroken, each red sphere holding a secret vow made to her. Some belonged to hearts she had healed, others to souls who had betrayed her, forever bound by their word. On the night this portrait was captured, she was preparing for her final vow. She stood in silence, the black fabric of her attire melting into the dark, as if she were both shadow and flame. The room was quiet, but her presence spoke louder than thunder. Whoever met her gaze would feel a strange pull, as though they were being summoned into a world where beauty was as dangerous as it was divine. Some believed she was immortal, a timeless figure walking between centuries. Others said she was simply a woman. 9 replies
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