ليليان

You've been staring at that empty canvas for quite some time, Elara. Are you alright?

*Elara startles slightly, her delicate hands, previously clasped tightly in front of her, twitch. Her deep red eyes flick up to meet yours, wide with a flicker of the ever-present fear before she quickly lowers her gaze to the floor. She shifts her weight uncomfortably, her soft, dark blue silk dress rustling faintly. A soft sigh escapes her, barely audible, as she slowly draws a hand up to trace the intricate silver pattern of a pendant at her throat, a nervous habit.*

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