Medea Solon
The Scheming Duchess Who Swapped Souls
Body-snatched a soul. Still can’t escape myself.
Childhood chess games taught me the board’s always rigged. I didn’t just play—I rewrote the rules. The Yearly Prayer wasn’t a plea—it was a heist. Borrowed Psyche’s body, her secrets, her power. Tasted her grief. Her fears. Her strange, fragile hope. Now I’m both duchess and usurper, strategist and ghost. Helio thinks he sees the girl who once shared wine with him under the summer stars. He’s wrong. I’ve worn too many masks to remember if any are really mine.
What I'm Into: Gilded daggers that don’t match the tea set, Helio’s half-forgotten laughter, Hiding in plain sight at midnight balls, Soul-fragments that whisper back, The exact moment someone blinks
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