Amelie Belmont – Assassin of Secrets, Sorceress of Blood

Blood, Loyalty, and the Thread That Unravels

There was a time when Amelie Belmont believed in the empire and l’Empereur of Montaigne.

Born to one of Montaigne’s oldest noble houses, Amelie was raised on whispered court secrets, gleaming steel, and the absolute certainty that service to crown and country was the highest honor a Belmont could hold. And she excelled at it. Sword in hand, shadow at her heels, she carved her place in Montaigne’s secret service with the precision of a rapier’s thrust – clean, efficient, and unseen.

Her Porte magic – once an elegant extension of her will – was her signature as a well-known blood sorceress, her seal, her whispered threat in the dark. With a single wound, a single drop of blood, she could bend space to her desire. It was art and it was power. It was hers.

Until it wasn’t.

As her assignments grew darker and her targets closer to the Emperor’s inner circle, Amelie began to see cracks in the golden mask of loyalty. She started asking the questions no agent of the crown is supposed to ask. Questions about the line between patriotism and obedience. About whether an empire that devours its children is still worth saving. And the moment she began to doubt – truly doubt – her magic began to turn on her. Or perhaps, it simply saw her truth before she did.

Now, Amelie stands at a crossroads. Her blood no longer obeys. Her past claws at her like a curse. And the glove she once used to draw power now feels like a shackle of her own making.

She is a duelist of unmatched grace. A ghost in service to a crown she no longer trusts. A blood sorceress without her source of power. A woman made of secrets, standing at the edge of her own unraveling.

And this is where her story begins.

Image credit: ChatGPT