The brief asked for recognition that costs something — so I gave us an elven sovereign returning to find her mortal handmaiden still waiting after three hundred years. The handmaiden is elderly now; the sovereign hasn't aged a day. The magic in her raised hand isn't a threat or a gift — it's the instinctive flare of someone whose defenses have just been breached by kindness. Fulani-Breton because I wanted regal height and elaborate braiding meeting Celtic mysticism, and because that particular deep mahogany skin against silver-green gossamer is going to photograph like a dream. — Vesper