Description: Alarissa's glittering beauty and practiced regality speak of high blood and an even higher opinion of herself. Her silk-shiny hair has the same colour and luster that one could counter as champagne in shade, and with a great deal of care and labour, it's been spun into a careful waves that when left loose flatter a heart-shaped face or done up in elaborate styles. Rosebud lips and a thin nose are flattered by wide and expressive night-blue eyes; indeed, her fine features and porcelain complexion make a comparison to a doll an easy one though over the last few years has brought smile lines and faint crows feet. A sylphide frame curves prettily and she has a tendency to sway as she walks, but she carries herself these days with something of a quiet and reserved air. The winter of 1011, she lost her left arm from below the bicep, and a false one of varying styles, is often seen.

Personality: It seems that no matter what life throws her way, Alarissa's ambitions remain unshaken: she sees her confidence as a matter of Grayson Pride over mere vanity, and to settle as anything less than legendary would be to do her esteemed blood wrong. Quick to smile and slow to anger, she seems to put her cultured disposition to its best use in making people feel at-ease, though she's developed a bit of a dry wit and can even sound flippant at times. Above all, she seems to harbour a desire to make others know how good she is, even if to do so she must indulge in the occasional white lie or overt act of generosity.

Background: No matter how adept Princess Alarissa manages to be at getting her way, it always seems like the world conspires to ruin her victories. Ever since she was very young, the ambitious young woman felt she was destined for glory. She was born too distant from the crown to rule Grayson by inheritance, of course, but she had almost neatly circumvented that nuisance of birth by showing Alaric IV just how obviously lovely and charming she was, and had juuuuuust about gotten a betrothal when frustratingly wiser heads snatched him away and gotten the distantly related dolt to agree to marry a Thraxian instead. Yes, yes, putting an end to centuries of unrest and blood is simply wonderful for those worried about that sort of thing, but Alarissa would have been a marvelous Queen for a pure Grayson match. Instead, Alarissa was forced to pivot from being the perfect potential match for King Alaric into being the perfect potential match for some high-lord to be or other. So she arranged to 'accidentally' meet Prince Vance Valardin, the disturbingly pious and stalwart son of the Prince of Sanctum and future ruler of the Oathlands, and she had to awe him with her numerous virtues, foremost that she looked absolutely stunning in white. It wasn't too long before she was betrothed, and not much longer until she was married and finally in a position to be the wife of the future Prince of Sanctum, and then all her plans needed to be thrown into ruin once more. Her husband (along with most of his family) were killed at the Tragedy at Sanctum, leaving Alarissa an extremely young window without issue among her new family in House Valardin. While she appreciates that he died heroically protecting his extremely gorgeous and charming young wife, she would have much rather he heroically barred the door until help arrived rather than leaving her alone to consider her next move. It is most irritating.

That next move would take nearly five years. But good things come to those who wait and the Usurper of Maelstrom reached out with an offer. A political marriage. They were in need of her Grayson blood and Valardin connections. The hindrance was the status as enemies, both houses. But! She had a solution to that. Why wouldn't she? Nothing was going to get in her way. Oathlanders keep their promises after all and Alarissa had no qualms about leveraging a promise made by the Prince of Sanctum. It was a pairing that brought no small amount of shock and in a circuitous fashion Thrax and Grayson back again. A quiet marriage of just Godsworn and themselves, knee deep in water and the deed was done. The mainlander bride of the High Lord of Thrax. Whether this would last, who knew. She had adaptability going for her. A Grayson flower in the tidal pools of Thrax. Time would tell.

And it has thus far. At his side and working hand in hand, Thrax has begun to really prosper. The Gyre dispensed with, Thralldom reformations in place - attributed to her despite that in truth it's Victus but that's perfectly fine with her. A truce between Valardin and Thrax that has settled in, a renewed strong alliance between the Lycene and Mourning Isles. There is little that has failed to be accomplished when Alarissa has put her mind to it. Heirs provided, including the future first High Lady of Thrax, everything seems to be going well on the outside and the marriage going strong. But she's still young in that marriage, in helping rule and her status as one of the most talked about women in the city and the compact brings no small amount of jealousy or admiration from it's populace. She still has a long way to go and many more moves.

Relationship Summary

Friend:
Spouse:

Vance (D.) - You left heavy burdens behind and a trust that leaves me wondering why. My dearest Dragon.

Victus - From the seed planted in knee deep waters, a tree has grown that shades all under it, weathering storms with roots dug deep. You are... loved and cherished.

Ally:
Family:

Lark - Dearest sister, all that I have of what was left. Our hearts beat to a song that only they heart.

Barric (D.) - From you I learned of courage. Of a path that must be tread and duty to family. My heart still stops when I remember you.

Astrid - You are the first in many ways and it terrifies me. My battleborn, my tempest, you hold so much of him in you. May the sea never harden you. May your people see your worth and appreciate you.

Danse - A steadfast heart, a steadfast hand, our only son. We know what the future holds for you. I have faith.

Siggy - The Squall, the dark storm to her twin. Rarely do they part.

Delia - The Tempest, The other half of matched pair. Hand in hand they go.

Eleyna - A lily growing in the salt. You bear the tenacity of your namesake, her grace and determination. My beloved, my favourite, my sea lily.

Natasha - Proof that even in the age of Donrai, flowers blossomed in the dark waiting for the day when night would pass and the fingers of dawn would touch so they may bloom. You are beloved to me, as if you were my blood.

Acquaintance: