*Genre: Historical Fantasy*  

*Setting: 18th Century Europe (with magical elements)*  

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### **Synopsis**  

In 1720s Paris, amidst the glittering salons and shadowed alleyways, **Marguerite Duval** is the illegitimate daughter of a disgraced alchemist. When her father is murdered for a mysterious artifact—the **Obsidian Phoenix**, a relic said to grant immortality—Marguerite is thrust into a deadly game of intrigue, magic, and betrayal.  

With only her father's coded journal and her own fledgling alchemical talents, Marguerite must navigate a world where:  

- **The French Court** hides blood-drinking aristocrats who bargain with ancient spirits.  

- **The Brotherhood of the Black Sun**, a secret society of sorcerers, seeks the Phoenix for their own dark ends.  

- **A rogue Spanish exorcist**, frayed at the edges by visions of the future, offers uneasy alliance.  

As Marguerite uncovers the truth about her father's past and her own latent power, she must decide: will she destroy the Phoenix… or wield it?  

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### **Key Elements**  

1. **Historical Meets Fantasy** – Lavish 18th-century settings (Versailles, Prague's occult underground) blend with alchemy, necromancy, and mythical creatures.  

2. **Flawed Heroine** – Marguerite is brilliant but impulsive, inheriting her father's genius—and his enemies.  

3. **Political Intrigue** – The relic's power could shift Europe's balance, drawing kings, criminals, and things *older than both*.  

4. **Gothic Undertones** – Think *Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell* meets *The Gilded Wolves*, with a dash of *Dishonored's* aesthetic.  

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### **Opening Scene (Preview)**  

*The body in the laboratory was not her father's.*  

Marguerite knew this because her father's corpse would not have been *smiling*. The man sprawled across the alchemical symbols—his throat slit, his fingers stained with mercury—was a stranger. Yet in his clenched fist: a single black feather, shimmering with unnatural heat.  

The journal lay open on the desk, its pages defaced with frantic sketches of a bird wreathed in flame. Beneath it, scrawled in her father's hand:  

*"Forgive me. It was never about immortality. It was about resurrection."*  

Outside, the church bells tolled midnight. Somewhere in the city, a woman began to scream.  

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