The high elf was in a pristine white military suit with gold embroidery, and medals lining her left breast pocket. It was likely the official uniform for the seven oracles, and the fact that she was still in it meant she was a stickler for the rules.
Her shoulder length mint hair was picked in a ponytail, leaving two tendrils in front to frame her face. Her cold, mint-green eyes were locked on Eliron, not a single flicker of emotion on her aloof face.
As expected of a pure blooded high elf, there was not a single imperfection on her perfectly chiselled features.
Not a single mole, freckle or misalignment. It was almost as though her face had been sculpted by a genius artisan then given life.
The moment Artie saw her, she shifted in her seat, her muscles taunt as she stared coldly at the woman.
Elrion could sense that Ash was also uncomfortable, but he hid his discontent well.
