Elizabeth Grey -Princess of Valdmire
Elizabeth sat at her dressing table with eyes of Emerald in the candle light. She stared at her reflection with a vacant expression deep in thought about the past few weeks. After her fathers birthday celebrations he had become distant and strange. Suddenly the Kingdom was being purged of it's dark rotten areas which were beforehand swarmed by bad people and bad business. Suddenly her father cared about the things he'd chosen to ignore for the past One hundred and ten years and it worried her.
Elizabeth was no fool. It was all over the King's wary, wrinkled face. He was a crumbling mountain reaching its end. A cliff face tired of being eroded by the harshness of the sea. He was old and...
She couldn't say it, not even in her head she couldn't be frank with herself and admit that her father was on his last legs. Instead she glanced away from her own reflection uncertainly almost frightened by the realisation she saw in her eyes and moved away from her dresser altogether.
With her candle in hand the Princess made her way over to her bed which could sleep at least Ten others and slipped off her silk Dressing gown. She perched on the edge of the soft mattress and looked down at herself. No one but her maids had seen her this way, with loose hair and night dress...if her father 'left her' that would change. The young girl climbed into bed and snuggled down looking a lot like a dolly in the centre of the puffy quilt.
The world was about to become most strange to her and she wasn't quite sure she was ready. With her slanted eyes drooping the Princess turned to her candle and and blew out the flame.