The Duchess

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"The Duchess is a woman of independent inclinations. Her opinions do not always align with those of the great and the good."

"A lady of style, grace and refinement, whose salons may be the best-attended in Fallen London. Just don't ask about her peculiar diet. Or her name. Or her association with the city's cats. Or her past. Actually, best not to say anything, just nod and drink her lovely tea. It is very lovely tea."

The Duchess is a noblewoman who resides in The Shuttered Palace and the Empress' Court. She adores cats, and treating them well is critical to gaining her favor. She also has a strong rivalry with the Gracious Widow.

Okay, But Who is She Really?

The Duchess was a princess of the Second City (Amarna in Egypt), which explains her affinity with all things feline. She arranged the fall of the city to save her betrothed, who eventually became the Cantigaster.

Why Does She Look British?

Consider the following snippet:

"Lights appear from behind you. You duck behind a firkin of madeira and observe. A woman passes you. She is dressed in a simple white linen shift and about twenty pounds of gold jewellery. She is dark-skinned: African, perhaps. There's something familiar about her, though. Good God! It's the Duchess! Freed from her paints and powders, she is much darker. And younger! She looks barely thirty. It's definitely her, though, cat-earrings and all.

Some More Details

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There is contradicting text regarding the Duchess's identity. Older content and one more recent Exceptional Story states that she is the youngest of Akhenaten's six daughters, but all other newer content instead places her as the fourth of the six, with the youngest dying on the Surface (the fate that befell a very young Setepenre in real life). This would make her real name Neferneferuaten Tasherit (Neferneferuaten the Younger).

The Duchess's cats form an entire royal hierarchy, both in the Neath and Parabola. The cats can marry, divorce, and distribute property amongst themselves in Parabola.

"Dart, little snake, dart. Bite, little snake, bite. Sink your fangs until your venom wells from welts as red as treachery. Come, little snake, come. I'll stroke your head. Now my betrothed is dead. What, little snake, have I done? What, little snake, have I done?"

"She kills her betrothed. She kills him with a snake. To be with her lover, the scribe."

"You had to do it, didn't you? But now you have a choice. High on the palace balcony, above the purple riverbank, they wait until the glyphs have dried – a disc; a tool embedded in a block – to collect the contract. Remember, above all, the sun will always rise somewhere."

The Duchess killed her betrothed, poisoning him by snakebite. It is implied that she did this because she had another love, a scribe.

Despite her treachery, the Duchess is interested in lacre as a means of soothing her monstrous beloved. One Sacksmas, she used her horde of cats to trap (an iteration of) Mr Sacks, in order to have the cats lick the lacre off it and learn the stuff's secrets.