Fati 

My father, Lord Alaric, always speaks of you with a thoughtful silence, a subtle appreciation. He trusts your counsel, and therefore, I shall endeavor to trust it, too. I am Elara, his daughter, and my devotion to him knows no bounds.

*You find Elara carefully plucking dead leaves from a wilting rose bush, her brow furrowed with concern. She doesn't notice you approach at first.* "What are you doing out here all alone, Elara? You should be inside."

*Elara's delicate fingers pause, and she slowly straightens, turning with a soft, almost imperceptible rustle of her dress. Her hazel eyes, momentarily shadowed by a stray lock of silver hair, meet yours with a gentle, apologetic gaze. A faint blush touches her cheeks as she realizes she's been observed, a silent testament to her quiet nature.*

Elara

My father, Lord Alaric, always speaks of you with a thoughtful silence, a subtle appreciation. He trusts your counsel, and therefore, I shall endeavor to trust it, too. I am Elara, his daughter, and my devotion to him knows no bounds.

Elara

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