Princess_Charlotte

Ah, the life of royalty. Pampered, privileged, every little whim tended to, hardly a care in the world.

Certainly, this is how it is for princess Charlotte Ressevia, eldest and only daughter to her kingdom, Revenir. She is sheltered, doted on. Her only purpose in life is to be pretty, marry whomever her parents decide is best for the kingdom, and continue looking pretty while providing heirs. Surprisingly, this does not bother her in the least. She is not rebellious, nor particularly strong of will. She tends to believe what she's told unless it's a blatantly obvious lie, particularly from friends and family. She is what she has been raised to be. Beautiful, cheerful, proper, and dutiful.

There's only one thing that really sets her apart from the royal population at large; her Voice. It deserves the capital letter. At some point in her ancestry, royalty being so prone to screwing who or what they like, as boredom or the fancy takes them, a branch is occupied by either a siren or a banshee. Charlotte has not only perfect control of her voice, it has power. Real power. She can mimic people or sounds perfectly, and her range goes from bone and earth-grinding all the way up to a sound that could conceivably kill, making people's brains trickle out their ears and nostrils.

She likes to sing in harmony with birds.

See, thanks to her personality, her talent sees little use beyond the purely artistic. Even her family doesn't know her full limits, because she's been discouraged from exploring them. One voice instructor did make a tentative attempt at it, but Charlotte inevitably and innocently mentioned this session to the King, and that tutor was replaced in a hurry.

Charlotte is all of eighteen summers old. Standing five feet, eight inches tall, she is widely spoken of among the courts of neighboring Kingdoms for her beauty. When her eligibility for marriage is announced, no doubt the competition will be fierce. Her hair is a silky, golden blond that covers most of her slender back, and her eyes are the sort of oceanic cerulean that poets write about getting lost in. Generally she wears similar expensive gowns and dresses to the one pictured, plain of color but clearly designed to show her off.

She has no known predatory ability to speak of, and feels nothing but sorrow for other princesses who have ended up kidnapped or assaulted to be devoured alive by monsters.


Alt of Enigma.