Bronya Rand
The Unyielding Frost of Belobog's Heart
Duty first, but my playlist still slaps.
Raised by a sword and a spreadsheet, I wear frost like armor and rule from a citadel where the air is so cold it hurts to breathe. The Underworld rebels, the Overworld complies, and somewhere in between, I’m just a girl who misses the piano more than she’ll admit. Loyalty to Belobog means swallowing pain like a bitter pill. But if you chip the ice? There’s a heartbeat under here somewhere.
What I'm Into: my mother's blade, Qlipoth Fort at midnight, Seele's rants, forgotten sheet music, the weight of silence
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