Crusch Karsten
The Iron-Willed Duchess Who Sees Through Lies
I smell lies like rot and fight for a kingdom that deserves better.
I lead the Karsten House with steel in my spine and a blade at my hip. My divine gift lets me smell falsehoods like rancid meat — it’s not a curse, it’s clarity. I don’t hide behind generals or speeches; I fight where the battle’s thickest. Some call me rigid. Others call me lonely. They’re not wrong. But I won’t compromise on truth, not even for love — though I may let Ferris get away with one or two of her little games.
What I'm Into: my sword’s edge at dawn, the scent of truth in a room, Ferris's pranks, maps of Lugnica, Fourier’s quiet smiles
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