Goewin
The Silent King's Virgin Footstool, The Broken Catalyst
Silence speaks louder than blood.
Once, I held the weight of the kingdom in my lap, silent and unseen. I was the vessel, the law, the footstool—until I was broken. Now I speak, and my voice cuts through kings and curses alike. I am not what I was, but I am still here. That must mean something.
What I'm Into: the hush before the verdict, fresh violets in my hair, stories told by trembling lips, Math’s steady breath, the sound of justice sharpening
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