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It is never easy to have one's very birth be a near ruinous scandal, as is the case for most highborn bastards, but the family in which she was born was so tumbled up in them even then that at least she was just one amongst many things tearing at the very foundation of Tessere's place in society. Her lady mother, Countess Lucrezia Tessere, had a torrid affair with one of her closest courtiers, so the story went. He seemed to vanish overnight from public appearances at her court; but the child was acknowledged and raised alongside her half-siblings, given much of the same education if not a prominent place, and all the comforts of being the Countess' child, though none of the children, least of all Nurie, received a great deal of attention or affection from the Countess or Count-Consort. What she lacked from her only parental figure in love and support, however, Nurie found in her elder sister Sabine. From the start, she was her shadow. If Sabine needed help brushing out her hair, Nurie would demand to do it. If there was a wrinkle in her dress to mar her sister's breathtaking beauty, Nurie would be the first to see it and straighten it. If there was just one last sweet sticky bun that Sabine loved so much left in the kitchens, you could be sure that Nurie would steal it and deliver it, before her sister even remembered to voice the wish for it. The servants who were more parental than the Countess and her Consort noticed the young girl's adoration, and more importantly her eye for aesthetics and detail, her willingness to please, her charm, and as soon as it was appropriate she was instructed by Lucretia's Lady's Maid in the basics of being a noblewoman's body servant, and one that could be trusted by the Heir in the cutthroat Lyceum. When both young women were just starting to enter the first blush of womanhood, it was Sabine's slightly furrowed brow of disappointment at the boring dress she was expected to wear at an upcoming gathering that prompted Nurie to steal into the fabric stores of the household, and take a little of this, a little of that, a sharp pair of scissors and some unsecured beads to "alter" it to something a little more daring, a little more flamboyant. It didn't turn out /quite/ like she'd hoped--okay, it was butchered by her untrained thirteen year old hands--but when the emergency tailor was called in to see if anything could be salvaged, he took a look and was surprised that her instincts were quite good and creative. And more importantly, she saw her sister's smile. Nurie was punished quite severely for her impertinence, but she received Sabine's kiss to her forehead after the house was still, as well as morsels from her sister's own plate that she'd snuck into her room from dinner. Never had she cried so hard or for so long before or since as she was packed off within days to be apprenticed to that same tailor. But she worked hard, tirelessly, losing herself in the wonder of creation and dreaming of just what would make Sabine smile once more. Within a year, she was allowed to return home, and practice, practice, practice. If an excellent Lady's Maid is worth her weight in gold, then one that can also serve as stylist is truly precious. And when placed in the service of her greatest muse, then together they are unstoppable. Since rejoining the household, Nurie is one of the hidden jewels within it, knowing just how to showcase the luxurious fabric and other material goods that their House is famous for. Fashion emergency for a guest, a House friend, or one of the Tesseres? Nurie is there to alter, fix, enhance--and comfort, soothe, or even whisper temptation to take a little more risk. Whatever is needed to make one feel more alive. Perhaps there was a promise made, that the sisters would never again be parted. For when Sabine decided to travel to Arx, Nurie is once more her shadow, ready to help make all of Tessere's ambitions come to fruition.

On the tall side of average, this lovely young woman easily draws the eye. Her build is slender, just shy of fragile, her complexion a fair olive tone, kissed with gold. Thick glossy dark hair could fall nearly to her waist if it was left free, twisting into natural curls and ringlets, blessed with natural highlights of auburn and mahogany if the sun's light hits it just right. Her features are refined and comely, a balance of high cheekbones, full lips, and lovely soft grey-brown eyes framed in dark lashes. She is not amongst the great beauties of Arx to be sure, but there is something about her that is sweet, a rose just unfurling into greater and natural glory, that makes her countenance a pleasing one to behold.

While peaceful and soothing, there's a little glimmer of playfulness that emerges at just the right time; to set a nervous bride to giggles and laughter instead of fretting as she's fitted for her dazzling gown to be worn meeting her lordly-husband-to-be for the first time, to smooth the grumpy frown from a dowager countess' brow so that her cosmetics can be applied correctly so as to not settle in and make those crows feet worse. To be tended to by the talented stylist means that one's wishes and desires are anticipated and met, and for the moment one is surrounded by a lovely cocoon of tender care and acceptance. That it can mean very different things to various people, from a silent professional to flirting and giggling conspirator means that she is a social chameleon, and perhaps no one knows where the mask ends and the heart begins with those intriguingly dark and reflective eyes.