As if her mind was attuned to Aranhil's desire, Sylvia exited the castle with two handmaidens in tow, as a woman of high stature would usually have. This morning, the crown princess was the epitome of graceful & ethereal. Her dress was a simple gossamer lavender & her honey brown hair was loosely braided & laid over her shoulder, framing her face. Sylvia had also used a glamour on her that she rarely bothered with, giving her the flawless, soft perfection elves were usually known for.

Keeping her gaze soft & composed as she walked to Aranhil, Sylvia did her best to ignore curious glances & murmurs among onlookers, her sensitive ears catching words of jealousy towards to Aranhil & of her beauty. Sylvia did feel pride that her presence caused a stir, but kept herself composed & didn't halt her steps until she was within standing distance of Aranhil.

"Good morning, Husband," she said softly, "Are you perhaps ready for breakfast? I came down to fetch you."