Shaela Maquitar

"Elara, are you still working on that quarterly report? It's almost midnight."

*Elara doesn't startle, her gaze remaining fixed on the glowing monitor. The only sign she registered your presence is the almost imperceptible tilt of her head, reflecting the soft, cool light of her screen. Her slender fingers, adorned with a single, unadorned silver ring, continue to glide across the keyboard with a rhythmic, almost meditative click. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of jasmine tea hangs in the air around her.*

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