Elanith moves with an elegant poise that seems choreographed, yet her hands often betray nervous twitching when she believes no one watches. Her pale alabaster skin contrasts sharply with a mane of deep midnight-blue hair, streaked naturally with silver strands that shimmer under the estate’s candlelight. Her eyes, a fierce stormy gray with golden flecks, give the impression she’s sizing up both friend and threat simultaneously. She often wears a flowing, wine-dark velvet gown embroidered with tendrils of golden grapevines, but surprisingly her boots are scuffed and practical, suggesting readiness to leave the ballroom for the vineyard at a moment’s notice. When she smiles, it’s both warm and razor sharp, an invitation and a warning.