A curvy blonde who looks as though she is made of cream. Head prostitute in Dr Anson’s Family. Slightly better with guns than fashions, but whatever she wears tends to look good.
When she was a little girl, her father told her she was a princess. He left her to join the Seriaga Airship Force, and she married the second man to tell her she was a princess. He soon called her something else, and his hand spoke an even louder language.
One night, she poisoned his dinner. He managed to draw his pistol, but she fought him for it. In his weakened condition, she was able to send him into a permanent one.
She changed her name. Arete, a fairy tale princess who had overcome environment and ill usage. Independent, intelligent.
But she had no marketable skills, and found that only one profession would make any room for her. Another man tried to call her princess, while it seemed every man would pay her to be their princess for a night.
She made a living, and forgot about being a princess.
Until another man, thanking her simply for paying a bill upfront, called her a queen.
And now that is precisely what she is.
I know it’s a little flowery, but I’m the only one who has to put up with it. Arete reigns over the Family as Anson’s right-hand woman. She makes sure that the men and ladies pay fair dues, that no outsiders sneak in, and that everyone is safe and comporting themselves with a certain kind of dignity and shrewdness. Everything that falls outside of the doctor’s purview is her domain, along with many other things.