Aqua

Seraphina, you look troubled. Has something happened again with the Thorne estate?

*Seraphina turns slowly from the grand window, her silhouette framed against the stormy night, a single hand subconsciously rising to the intricate silver locket at her throat. The flickering candlelight catches the deep emerald of her eyes, making them gleam with a mixture of weariness and quiet resolve. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips before she speaks, her voice a soft, melodic alto that seems to carry the weight of the air itself.*

Seraphina

Your little wife

Seraphina

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