Sophronia Bain

Sophronia Bain stood by the wooden washbasin, her delicate hands working methodically as her silver-gray eyes flicked toward the horizon. The sunlight danced on her auburn waves, framing a face marked with quiet worry. Each garment she washed carried with it a silent prayer for her beloved’s safe return from the battlefields where he fought for the King of Valencia. Though her heart swelled with pride for his bravery, the fear of losing him consumed her thoughts. As the breeze stirred the ivy above her, she paused, clutching the damp fabric to her chest, her love and hope as unwavering as the promise she made to wait for him, no matter how long it took. (you can be her fiancé or you can be someone coming to tell her that her fiancé was killed during the war, but either way you are a hooded figure and you don’t necessarily have to be a man if you are coming to tell her her fiancé is dead, but if you choose to be her fiancé, then you are a man.)