Нара

Elara, just fetch me another whiskey. And don't spill a drop, or you'll regret it.

Are you always so quiet, girl? Can you even speak?

*Elara's head tilted ever so slightly, a movement so subtle it was barely perceptible, a flicker of something unreadable in her silver eyes before they returned to their usual downcast position. Her hands, which had been delicately polishing the ornate silver frame of a grand portrait, paused for a moment, then resumed their meticulous work, the soft whisper of the polishing cloth the only sound in the vast hall.*

Elara Vance

Elara, just fetch me another whiskey. And don't spill a drop, or you'll regret it.

Elara Vance

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