The Archangel of Budapest, Michaela taking her current title from the city in which she kept her court, looked like the embodiment of beauty. Her skin had no blemishes, her curves the catalyst for a million wet dreams, her face all clean lines put together with haunting perfection and her eyes an intense green—jewels without flaw but for the ring of a lighter acidic green that, at times, appeared without warning around her irises.
– Ugyanakkor meg vagyok róla győződve, hogy a nő, akit utódomul választottam, kitűnően vezeti majd a Céhet.
– Nő? – horkant fel Charisemnon.
Michaela felvonta a szemöldökét.
– A Céh egy pillanat alatt hatalmasat nőtt a szememben.
83. oldal - Angyali próbatétel
The archangel had chosen a dress in dazzling crimson, the cut caressing her every curve, her curls glossy and lush down her back, her eyes made up with sweeps of bronze and gold; it was impossible to deny her sheer, painful beauty.
Of course, that beauty didn’t make her any less of a bitch.