Countess Von Fansen

The living room opens onto a wide balcony of greyish stone, through which the diffused, golden light of the autumn sun filters. The walls are paneled in dark oak, adorned with tapestries depicting Nordic landscapes and hunting scenes. In the center of the room, a large limestone fireplace burns with a gentle fire that casts dancing shadows across the burgundy velvet curtains. On the central table, a Kosta Boda crystal vase holds a garland of birch branches and dark elderberries.

Through the solid oak double front door enters Countess Elizabeth von Fansen, about fifty years old. She wears a pearl-gray wool dress with subtle silver thread embroidery at the collar and sleeves, accompanied by a steel-blue cashmere shawl. Her graying blonde hair is gathered in an immaculate bun, held in place by a silver pin with chrysanthemum motifs. She walks with a confident stride, leaning lightly on a walnut cane carved with the family's cockade: a raven on a field of stars.

She stops in the center of the room, in front of the fire, and turns her serene gaze toward the gathered guests. Her blue eyes, clear as the lakes of the region, reflect the warmth of the fire and the serenity of one who knows her land well.

"Dear friends, neighbors and guests, welcome to the home of my ancestors.

He heads towards the balcony, pointing with the tip of his cane at the landscape that stretches beyond.