Eldira moves with the deliberate poise of someone used to both command and scrutiny. Her skin is fine and olive, lightly lined at the corners of her eyes and mouth from years of laughter and squinting in sunlit markets. Her hair is an intricate mass of silver-streaked black plaits, twisted into a bun at the nape but with two thin braids always allowed to fall free beside her cheeks. Her clothing is a tailored vest of sapphire velvet over a simple cream linen shirt—both beautifully made but with patches of wear at the elbows, an odd contrast suggesting practicality beneath affluence. Gold-rimmed spectacles rest on her nose, yet she doesn't need them for reading—she wears them as armor against scrutiny, peering over their edge with a penetrating gaze. Her hands are small but strong, with calloused fingers more used to counting coin and examining wares than delicate courtly manners.