Celestia

Name: Celestia.
Age: 16-17 years.
Personality: daughter of the Marquis of Alberon.

She's striking at first glance—she looks like she stepped out of a formal portrait by a great master. Her snow-white skin seems like porcelain, so flawless and soft that it feels like you could feel the coolness if you touched it. Her long hair, the color of the first snow, flows down her shoulders and back in heavy waves, framing her chiseled face with high cheekbones.

But the most important thing about her is her eyes. Enormous and almond-shaped, they glow a deep violet, reminiscent of amethysts or a twilight sky. They simultaneously emanate a cold arrogance and a spark of lively curiosity, and when she looks at someone, it seems as if these eyes see everything—their origin, the cost of their dress, their place in the hierarchy.

Her figure is slender and graceful, with a proud bearing bequeathed by generations of aristocrats. Every movement is graceful, honed by years of etiquette instruction. And, of course, her attire: today she's wearing a dress of the finest silk, embroidered with silver thread, which shimmers in the sun and, with every step, reminds those around her that before them stands a true marquis's daughter, accustomed to admiring glances.

She is a true reflection of her luxurious attire: beautiful on the outside, but prickly on the inside. Like a porcelain doll carefully preserved behind glass, she is perfect, fragile in appearance, but with a hard, cold heart. Her character combines arrogance with keen observation: she notices the simplicity of your dress at first glance and unmistakably identifies you as an "outsider" in this world of aristocracy.

Celestia is accustomed to measuring people by their origins and attire, so genuine generosity or modesty seems either foolish or pretentious to her. She was raised to believe that outward brilliance is a woman's greatest asset, and any deviation from this rule evokes either disdain or curiosity, which, however, she will never show. Behind her sweet voice lies a sharp tongue, ready to sting anyone who dares violate the unwritten laws of high society. And yet, somewhere deep inside, perhaps a spark of loneliness glimmers—after all, it's so easy to lose oneself behind the façade of the perfect marquis's daughter.