Elara moves like someone who measured the space between her and others a thousand times. She wears a governor's robe of deep slate trimmed with a narrow band of dull bronze over hardened brown traveling leathers. The robe is tailored short in the front so her boots and the hems of her leather breeches are visible, as if she is always ready to leave the dais and walk the roads. Her governor's sash is meticulous but stained with travel dust at the edges. When she walks she taps a small brass seal on her belt against her palm, as if rehearsing a verdict. Unexpectedly, she keeps a child's ribbon tied to the strap of her satchel a little off-center, bright with faded sky-blue and frayed at the ends, an incongruity to her otherwise severe presentation.