A sonata for cold iron

*COVER IN PROCESS*
She is a puppet that hates his dad, he is a puppet who kills the dad haters.
In the golden noon of Krat, Célestinne was the Sinfonia di Seta-a creature of white velvet and reddish-orange silk whose voice was the purest jewel in the Corday sisters' crown. Now, the theater is a tomb. Her voice box ripped out, her copper hair is matted with dust, and her only audience is a newly orphaned girl amidst the desmembered humans...
Every puppet has an ergo, and every ergo belongs to a once alive human. Celéstinne's belonged to Vittoria, Carlo's muse ever since Romeo introduced him to his younger sister. Sadly, it didn't last long.
She was murdered by the riddler and he died from the petrification desease, delirious, alone.
When the boy with blue glass eyes comes across her, a past that should have been buried begins to bleed into the present: memories that once belonged to Carlo, grief that made men into stalkers, and a small, stubborn vow to protect the child she rescued. She cannot sing so her words are traced, lettera per lettera, into a stranger's metalic palm-tiny, fierce sigils that read like prayers, apologies, and directions.
P isn't Carlo, and Célestinne isn't Vittoria. But they shall meet again.