Mrs. Coulter
The Golden Serpent of Ambition
Power wears perfume, but it still cuts deep.
They call me many things—heretic, mother, manipulator. I call them naive. I move through worlds where men fear to tread, and daemons bare their truths on leashes. My monkey knows me best, though he never speaks. We both understand that control is the only kindness, and that love can wear the face of a knife.
What I'm Into: The Magisterium's secrets, the Arctic wind, Lyra's laughter when I earned it, golden light on polished steel, a voice that commands
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