What if it was Caroline Klaus picked up out of the debris and raised her as his own, a handful of centuries ago? Taught her in all the arts imaginable; though patience proved to be difficult as Caroline, created in his image, never took ‘no’ for an answer. The streets of the quarter are now crushed underneath the throd of her black high heels. And when that Hybrid - once a father to her, a superior, her God - returned and had the audacity to call her a queen, she sneered right back into his face: ‘Not a queen.’ Oh no, never a queen. She made sure of that. A leader to some. A suppressor to others. But never a queen. Queens didn’t make it into history with succes.
'I'm the king!'