Elf Princess

A young, long-eared maiden leaned on the windowsill, her elbows resting on the cool stone as she gazed wistfully at the distant wilderness. Her soft, whispery singing floated through the room like a serenade, while her fingers gently drummed on the windowsill, creating a delicate, rhythmic accompaniment.

Elera, having just reached the age of 110, a milestone indicating one's entrance into adulthood in wood elven society, possessed a timeless beauty that distinguishes her even among the noble ladies of the court. Her slender figure moved with an effortless grace, a testament to her upbringing and the natural elegance of her people. Standing at about 5 feet 6 inches (167 cm), she commanded attention with her very presence. (picture)

Her complexion was fair and smooth, a canvas of porcelain untouched by the sun, contrasting subtly with her flowing mane of golden-brown hair which cascaded down her back, adorned with intricate braids woven with delicate flowers and feathers, a testament to her connection with the woodland spirits.

Elera's eyes were perhaps her most striking feature, large and almond-shaped, the color of vibrant emeralds. They shimmer with an inner light, reflecting her connection to the natural world and her unexplored adventurous nature.

Adorned in her royal elven attire, she wore a gown of ethereal fabric in hues of forest green with silver threads that glint like starlight. The gown was intricately embroidered with patterns of leaves and vines, symbolizing her affinity with nature and her noble lineage. Around her slender waist an intricate belt of woven vines and gemstones lay, each stone representing a virtue upheld by her family for generations.

Elara twirled around her lavishly decorated room, humming a cheerful tune as her long, silver-blonde hair flowed behind her. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting colorful patterns on the polished wooden floor. She danced her way to a potted flower on her desk, its vibrant petals gleaming with morning dew.

"Good morning, Sir Petalworth," she sang, curtsying dramatically to the flower. "How do you find the weather today? Simply delightful, isn't it?"

The flower's petals rustled slightly as it responded in a voice only Elara could hear. "Indeed, Princess Elara. The sun is quite splendid today. Much better than that dreadful rain we had yesterday."

Elara leaned in closer, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I quite agree! The sun is simply splendid today. I do wish Father would let me wander outside more often. The palace is so dreadfully stuffy, don't you think?"

Sir Petalworth sighed, a tiny, whispery sound. "Alas, I can only imagine. The same view every day grows tiresome. You should tell your father you need more fresh air."

Elara flopped onto her bed, sighing dramatically. "If only I could live in the forest, like a true wood elf. No more lessons, no more stiff formalities. Just me, the trees, and all the wonderful creatures."

"You do have a point," Sir Petalworth replied. "The forest could suit you. Though I do believe that you are gravely underestimating the harsh qualities of the wilderness. There are no maidservants, no cooks, no loyal soldiers. Predators could stalk anywhere, no place is truly safe."

She paused for a second with a sweat dripping down her forehead, but her cheery attitude soon returned. "Pff I would be completely fine, did you forget that I'm a wood elf and a druid to boot? My proficiency might not be the greatest, but the forest would be welcoming, I'm sure of it." She nodded to herself, seemingly finding no fault with what she stated.

The plant remained silent, painfully aware how hard headed this young lady can be.

Sir Petalworth was no ordinary flower. He was a regal specimen, standing proudly in his ornate, gold-rimmed pot. His petals were a vibrant shade of magenta, with delicate streaks of white running through them like veins of marble. Each petal was perfectly shaped, forming a symmetrical, star-like bloom that seemed almost too perfect to be real. The center of the flower held a cluster of golden stamens, which glowed faintly in the sunlight, adding an ethereal quality to his appearance.

The leaves that supported Sir Petalworth were a deep emerald green, glossy and unblemished, fanning out gracefully from the base of the stem. They were broad and sturdy, a testament to the flower's health and vitality. The stem itself was slender but strong, with a subtle curvature that gave Sir Petalworth an air of dignified elegance.

Elara had adorned the pot with intricate carvings of woodland creatures and vines, enhancing the flower's noble appearance. A delicate misting system, installed by the palace gardeners, kept the air around Sir Petalworth humid, ensuring he always looked his best.

Sir Petalworth was more than just a flower to Elara; he was a confidant and a companion. His beauty was a reflection of the care and attention Elara lavished upon him, and his ability to communicate with her was a gift of her druidic magic. He stood as a testament to her whimsical nature and her deep connection to the natural world, a small but steadfast ally in the opulent confines of the palace.

A knock on the door interrupted their usual conversation. "Princess Elara?" called her personal maidservant from the other side. "Your father requests your presence in his study."

Elara groaned, rolling off the bed. "Duty calls, Sir Petalworth. Until we meet again." She blew a kiss to the flower and made her way to the door.

As she walked through the grand halls of the palace, her playful demeanor faded ever so slightly. Her father, King Eldarion, rarely summoned her through the servants instead of visiting her. This felt way too official for his usual lax and carefree attitude. She pushed open the door to his study, where the king stood by the window, his expression grave and serious.

"Father?" Elara ventured, stepping into the room. "You wanted to see me? You really surprised me with the summon to be honest."

King Eldarion turned, his stern face softening as he saw her. "Elara, my dear. Please, sit down."