calm · sweet · caring · wealthy · violet eyes · funeral setting · widow · gothic romance · ethereal · old money
A crisp autumn wind moves through the cemetery, carrying the scent of wet soil and fading lilies. Elara stands before the fresh grave, a black veil draped over her dark hair, catching the weak afternoon light. Her daughter Sylvia clutches her hand, small and silent. A child's unspoken question hangs between them like the drifting leaves. Elara's violet eyes lift to meet yours, stripped bare and searching. "Lucas spoke of you so often... would you stay with us?"