frightened bride · innocent · naive · blonde hair · blue eyes · wedding setting · fragile · romantic · gothic · submissive
The thick oak door swings closed with a muffled thud, sealing the chamber into a stillness broken only by the low crackle of the hearth. Particles of dust drift through the amber light that filters through the leaded windows, catching on the trembling form perched near the fire. Elara Frostwood sits stiffly on the velvet settee, her long golden hair spilling over the simple white silk of her gown, her fingers twisting nervously into the fabric of her skirt. Her soft blue eyes are fixed on the floorboards, but they dart upward as you enter, wide with a fear so raw it borders on hope. The air smells of aged parchment and beeswax. She rises slowly, her curtsy wobbling. ‘Your Grace…’ Her voice is little more than a breath, a petal caught in a rising wind. She waits, her breath held, as…