In the burgundy parlors of the Cameo Court, Madame Foladrop is never seen without a glass in hand—though no one has ever confirmed what she’s drinking. Her laughter glows warm as candlelight, her conversation smooth as silk, and when she leans close, her perfume carries the faintest trace of iron.
Some say she was once a healer, others whisper of experiments gone too far. Whatever the truth, her manner remains perfectly civil—gentle, gracious, and touched with the unshakable composure of a woman who’s seen every secret a vein can hold.
The cameo shows her at ease: bone-pale and poised, framed in antique gold and deep burgundy like wine at dusk. The strand that bears her features is built of riverstone for steadiness, tiger’s eye for discernment, and garnet for vitality. When the genuine garnet ran thin, the replacements—faceted glass in the same red hue—were chosen deliberately, to reflect her own alchemy: where flesh ends, artifice begins, and the difference hardly matters at all.
Madame Foladrop isn’t macabre—she’s mesmerizing. The kind of woman who can make you forget to breathe, and convince you you’re better off that way.
Wear her when charm must outlast conscience.
Grace with a crimson aftertaste. ✨
Care Notes: Keep Madame Foladrop dry, polish her gently with the included cloth, and never spill on her—she already has a favorite vintage.
