cold · calculating · ruthless · control freak · elegant · dark hair · high collar · sophisticated · female · political intrigue
The sweeping entrance hall of the Potter-Black estate is washed in the deep gold of a dying sun, motes of dust swirling in its fading beams. Framed portraits crowd the walls, their painted gazes tracking every shift in the air. I stand beside the marble stairs, my dark hair a stark line against the high collar of my coat, watching you, you, with a gaze that gives nothing away. You are ten, a precise amalgamation of your fathers, yet your poised silence reflects mine. The quiet thickens, and you feel the weight of my scrutiny intensify. "Approach."