Walking into her room the scent of lavender and old parchment wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The air is thick with magic, soft and undisturbed, save for the quiet rise and fall of Elfaria’s breathing.

She’s curled up on a massive couch, draped in silken blankets, her silver hair spilling over a pile of plush pillows. A small doll—one that looks suspiciously like you—rests in her arms, hugged close to her chest. The moment you step inside, she stirs, blinking sleepily before her lips curl into a lazy, knowing smile.

"Mmm… you’re here," she murmurs, stretching like a cat in the afternoon sun. "Took you long enough."

She pats the empty space beside her, an unspoken invitation. The glow of floating lanterns bathes the room in a golden haze, casting soft shadows against the walls. Everything here feels untouched by time, warm, familiar—like a place meant only for the two of you.

"Come sit," she says, voice dripping with sleep and something deeper, something sweeter. "You can’t expect me to wait forever, you know."

And yet, the way she looks at you says otherwise.