She sat in a chair by a tall window in her room; a girl of pallid flesh adorned in soft freckles, a bright countenance, and with blue eyes delving into the pages of a book. From a tilted head spirals waves of golden threads, and they seem to go on endlessly. Simple attire hugs her equally plain features in thin rose-gold that fit her form loosely, for she is lithe and none of her dresses ever seem to fit her just right.