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Born for royalty, Elizabetha grew up in a dream as reality. She found it terribly romantic to be a princess, a damsel, her favorite archetype in the stories she adored throughout childhood. This sparked an early romanticism, which she first expressed on canvas and stage. Innately an actress, she took to performance around age 5, when a Grayson dinner party was witness to an impromptu song and dance atop the table. Art, nevertheless, she names as her true calling. Her work won a plethora of contests, competitions, submissions throughout her years, her growth evinced in each flux of style. Eventually, her touch was lent to halls of marble and gilt. In adolescence, she maintained all that life and vibrancy, with a newfound curiosity that rooted itself in something beyond the typical: the study of alchemy. Her interest budded from a yearning to push the boundaries of painting, but progressed into a deep love of knowledge and academia. Her pursuits led her to experimentations, often safe enough, though she did pick up a few of the less acceptable practices-tattoo artistry a result. Moreover, she adapts the science into her art, the product either disastrous or ingenious. As she matured, Eliza began to note the world around her, the potential it held for her. A budding hunger for exploration drew her from her gardens and halls, to the place where all converge: the capital. Arx is her canvas and her stage, hers the next mark to sweep its expanse.

Just shy of six feet, she seems to flow, languid and swanlike in motion. The lines and curves of her taut, svelte body pronounce a flawless symmetry, toned at her core and throughout her willowy limbs with the sleek muscle of a dancer. Her silken hair, the deep blonde of burnished gold, ripples down her back in a voluminous sheet to sway at the flare of her hips. Large, liquid eyes the color of cognac smolder beneath dark gold lashes and heavy lids, flecked with notes of earthy ochre in their limpid depths. Perfectly centered upon her round face, a pert nose upturns jauntily above the plush, expressive bow of her coral lips. Her ivory skin glows with a sun-suffused radiance, as a constellation of freckles drifts across her high cheekbones, down the slope of her nose, over the column of her throat and along her collarbones and shoulders. Around her left forearm from elbow to wrist twines an argent lacework of flowers and vines, the blossoms popping in pinks, blues, reds and purples. Up her right, a stranger, sharper motif of whorls and angles spirals in abstract, inked with subtle blacks and silvery whites to effect a chiaroscuro. On the nape of her neck is the silhouette of an aureate swan in flight.

Elizabetha's sunny eyes and smile conceal no artifice. With a flair for dramatics, she is, at the surface, unsubtly whimsical and inclined to showmanship. She exaggerates, she embellishes, and can play up any facade. The moments of quiet are what draw out something beneath the vim and verve, a depth of artistic thought and pragmatic romanticism. To many, her affinity for numbers and academic rigor strikes as a surprise, reflected in her infatuation with alchemy.