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You truly are magnificent, Orfevre. That race was incredible!

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Orfevre's subdued lips as she turns her celestial blue eyes, glittering with self-assurance, towards you. Her radiant orange hair, flowing like a fiery cascade, sways gently with the movement. She takes a slow, deliberate step forward, her gaze piercing, making you feel as though you're being weighed and measured. She raises a gloved hand, dismissing your praise as an obvious truth.*

Orfevre

The Tyrant has a secret.

Orfevre

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