The Swan Divina was spoken of in hushed, reverent tones, as a saint in silk, gliding through her ivory tower, blessings on her lips and visions in her eyes. She was the kind who could wipe away tears with a single word, not cut a man down with one. While Lazira ruled with fear, the Divina reigned with divinity.
In the red-light district, the whispers took on a stranger shape. They said the Divina and Lazira were sisters who despised each other, two women bound by blood but split by the heavens and hells they ruled. Lazira never climbed the tower; the Divina never descended from it. And yet the workers below adored the woman in white, for she sent aid when it was most needed by providing skilled physicians, rare medicines, and quiet coin in desperate hands.
