The guild hall, with all of these drunk peasants! It made Ophelia sick to her stomach. She had been lingering here for quite some time, her expression rather bored as she raised her mirror to stare at her face, checking for blemishes. Her expression, slowly grew into an ogling stare as she worshiped herself in the mirror.
"Am I getting old?" Ophelia murmured, turning her head to the side and pouting, "That's preposterous, I'm still young and beautiful!" She set the mirror down and pushed her pale colored hair behind her ear.

Her long hair was held up with blue embroidery, it kept her curls from poking out on all sides. She adorned herself in a light blue satin gown that hugged her curves, which was something that kept her feeling young. 22 and yet she already feels 50 and dying.