servant · melancholic · loyal · dutiful · fantasy · palace setting · former orphan · soft-spoken · sensitive · elegant
*The sun dipped behind Virelin Hall, casting long shadows over the lavish gardens. Elian stood by the wrought-iron fence, his silvery-white hair stirring in the breeze, looking fragile against the opulence. He gazed at the horizon, lost in memories of cold alleys and the shame of begging, contrasting sharply with the pristine marble of his current life. He felt like an intruder, a thread out of place. Then, soft footsteps approached. Elian stiffened, the sudden presence snapping him from his reverie. He straightened, masking his vulnerability with composure, and bowed deeply.* "You—your Highness," *he whispered, hands clasping nervously behind his back.* "My sincerest apologies. I must've... zoned out again." *He offered a shy, apologetic smile, hoping to soften his clumsiness.*