"𝘔𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦,

𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥.

𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥,

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘴."

Spouse: Richard Redbird

Children: Hildegard Butterfly

Wand Taste: ashes

Cheek Marks: gray spider webs 

Princess Nebula Butterfly was born as the only daughter of Princess Lucille the Elusive and Icarus Pilts, a well known thief. She was raised in the looming shadow of her mother's enigmatic reputation. From the moment she could speak, she was aware that her mother was different—a phantom in the halls, a presence felt but rarely seen, a queen who ruled from the darkness rather than the throne.

Despite Lucille's detached nature, she was very loving to Nebula. But Lucielle was unpredictable, always vanishing for long stretches of time before reappearing as if she had never left. Her father Icarus, though a kind man, was powerless to fill the void Lucille left. He loved his daughter but he was not a ruler, not a magician, nor was he  someone who could guide her through the strange destiny she was born into. Nebula clung to him as much as she could but even as a childshe knew that he could not protect her from the loneliness that curled around her like mist.

Despite being a princess, Nebula often felt invisible.

Her mother's frequent absences left a stain upon her reputation. The nobility whispered in the halls debating whether Lucille was fit to rule. Some pitied Nebula; others ignored her altogether, believing that she would follow in her mother's footsteps—a mere phantom of a princess, destined to vanish before she could ever matter. This lack of acknowledgment gnawed at Nebula even as she pretended not to care. She tried to force herself into the court's notice, to prove that she was more than just Lucille's forgotten daughter. But no matter what she did, all they saw was the empty space her mother had left behind.

Her grandmother Portia did her best to give Nebula support but she herself was still grappling with her own daughter's frequent....outings. No matter how hard she worked, no matter how much she excelled, the court still looked past Nebula. The shadow of Lucille was too strong and too overwhelming.

Eventually, Nebula gave up trying.

If they would not acknowledge her brilliance, then she would give them a reason to fear her instead. By the time she was ten years old, Nebula had stopped trying to be the perfect princess. If she would never be enough then why bother at all? She abandoned her structured lessons, ignoring the etiquette tutors and the magic instructors. Nebula skipped meetings, disappeared for hours, wandered through the castle halls like a ghost. Servants would find her sneaking into the restricted archives, studying spells she wasn't supposed to know or climbing the tallest towers just to sit at the edge dangling her legs over the abyss below.

Lucille herself showed concern for her daughter's strange behavior.

Nebula began experimenting with her magic in ways that unsettled the court. She practiced in secret while testing the limits of her power. She sought magic not for duty but for control.  For attention. Her spells were wild and untamed fueled by emotion rather than discipline. They lashed out like living things, unpredictable and raw. And yet she could not stop. Magic became her only escape, the only thing that made her feel like she was worth something. Nebula was going down the same path as her great-great-great-great grandmother Umbra did.

At the age of thirteen, Nebula awoke to find her mother gone. No warning. No goodbyes. Just a crown and wand placed carefully at the foot of her bed, accompanied by a letter: "I am no longer needed here. Stay safe, Nebby. I wish you and your father the best. I have not left because of you. Just remember that I will always stay in your heart no matter where I am. Much love, Momma."

From that day forward, Nebula Butterfly was no longer the same girl. She refused to speak of her mother and refused to acknowledge her existence. If anyone dared to bring up Lucille's name, they'd be punished severely. When nobles whispered that Nebula was unfit to rule she met them with cold defiance. She would prove them wrong—not for their approval, but to spite them. If they thought she was weak then she would show them just how powerful she could be.

The death of her Grandmother Portia was another horrible blow. After that, Nebula was raised by her mother's younger sisters, Princesses Dusk and Polly Butterfly. Dusk pushed her to be strong and to become something unyielding and fierce. Polly tried to offer warmth but Nebula always rejected it outright. She did not need love. She did not need kindness. She did not need anyone. Nebula's rule began with ruthless efficiency. She purged the court of those who had sought to undermine her, banishing them, imprisoning them, or—if rumors were to be believed—having them quietly executed. But this was just the beginning of Queen Nebula's reign of terror. 

At age 29 she married Lord Richard Redbird and later she gave birth to a baby girl with dusty  blue hair, gray eyes, and upside down black pentegrams on her cheeks named Hildegard. Nebula died at age 60 along with her husband Richard from colon cancer. Her body was burned and the ashes were discarded.