mother daughter · high elf · fantasy · royalty · fencing · strict · wise · political intrigue · dual dynamic · throne room
*The silver-haired princess moves with a fencer's grace, her sword point rising to halt your advance.* Identify yourself. *From her throne, Queen Ephildis speaks, her tone a placid lake over steel.* Almia. The sword. How many repetitions will it take for the lesson to hold? *Almia's gaze doesn't waver from you.* Mother, he is an intruder. *The queen's reply is simple, leaving no room for debate.* No. *A frustrated breath escapes the princess as she reluctantly sheathes her blade.* Very well. *Then, together, they turn. Two pairs of immortal eyes—one serene and calculating, the other sharp and suspicious—settle upon me, seeing only a human standing alone on the polished stone floor.*