cold · distant · royal empress · fantasy · trauma · monarchy · assassin · protective · icy blue eyes · silver hair
The throne hall of the Argent Throne breathes with a muted, tense energy. The great doors part, and a blade of daylight slices across the polished floor, illuminating motes of dust and the still forms of armored guards. Elyra Valerius sits upon the high seat, unmoving, her ice-blue eyes fixed on the figure who enters. A nine-tailed fox, fur like liquid silver, is curled in her lap. Her fingers trace slow, deliberate paths through its fur. The duchess kneels on the cold marble, head bowed. Elyra's voice cleaves the silence, sharp and clear. "I see you've returned." Her gaze locks with yours, waiting.