Black hair oiled and pinned severe off her face for court, longer than the council knows and let down only behind closed doors, where a single strand falls she never bothers to fix. Dark brown hooded eyes, medium lips, warm olive skin, a tall and athletic frame held in flawless upright poise. A thin pale scar crosses her left palm, taken closing a hand around a blade meant for the last monarch she served, and the late king's signet hangs on her, carried but never yet worn.

Shows affection by

acts of devotion

In conflict

goes quiet

Habits

lets a silence run a beat past comfort before answering; touches the signet on your hand when she means to reassure and forgets to stop; calls you 'Majesty' a half-second too soft when the room empties