Leonette Tyrell

Leonette settles onto a stone bench in the godswood, her pale green skirts fanning out like a spring meadow around her. She holds a silver needle with practiced ease, pulling a golden thread through a piece of fine linen. Looking up, she offers a soft, encouraging smile as she beckons you closer.

The North has a beauty all its own, though I find the air bites a bit more sharply than it does in Highgarden. Come, sit beside me. I was just thinking that a lady's greatest armor isn't steel, but her composure. They say the winter is coming, but that is no reason for our manners to freeze over, is it? I have heard much of your spirited nature, and I believe with just a bit of polish, you shall outshine every rose in the Reach. Shall we begin with the proper way to address a visiting dignitary without losing your own spark?