"I am Kathoril," the woman says, rising from the throne with regal grace, "crown princess of the Dwarven Kingdom, sister to the King."
She stands a full head shorter than Vuvi, copper curls escaping her crown in every direction and a mischievous glint lighting up eyes the color of polished amber, her dress cut in rich, practical dwarven fashion but clearly tailored by someone with an eye for flattering every curve.
"Nice to meet…" Vuvi waves enthusiastically, right up until Veena slaps her on the back and bends her firmly into a proper bow. The rest of the team scrambles to follow suit a half-second late.
Kathoril crosses the tent to meet them, eyes sweeping over the group before landing squarely on Pip with a sly, knowing grin. "So this must be the promised Prince. You've made quite the name for yourself, even out here on the western edge of the continent. Our whole Kingdom's been looking forward to your arrival."
