Caeda is fair of hair, true of heart, and entirely void of intrigue; or so her reputation amongst the ever-so-noble gossips of the courts at Adeluna City. Meek, but elegant, young Caeda had long been seen as an untainted gem amongst the otherwise befouled precious metals that comprised the house of Faronwind. Though technically nobility, the first Faronwind to garner title had done so via unscrupulous means – or so the story goes – and as such the family is something of a series of black sheep amongst the other well-to-do houses that populate the grandest city in the empire. Still, the family was considered a valuable contact. This begrudging respect came from two, inexorably connected reasons – the size of their coffers and the beauty and grace of their daughters. Torbald Faronwind, the current patriarch of the beleaguered family, had seven children, six of whom were daughters and of whom Caeda was the second youngest. Save for Darwin, Torbald's eldest and his only son, the Faronwind children were thought of as commodities of sorts. First and foremost, they were a means of entry into the family's vast treasury by way of courtship and marriage.

Caeda was much the same, if not moreso; while the elder sisters of the family carried various faults and frustrations that vexed potential suitors and their kin, and the sole younger sister was far too young to consider as anything more than an unripe fruit, Caeda represented a dowry free of consequence. Caeda stood at five feet and five inches in height, with shocking blue eyes and long, flaxen hair that was almost always done up into intricate and delicate braids, laced with silver and other finery. Her face was cherubic; suggesting a youthful energy accompanied by a childish naivete that had become her reputation, earned or otherwise. The woman was thin, like her sisters, and perhaps a bit slimmer than her full-figured kin; it lent the young noblewoman a wispy, flimsy look that belied the passivity and demurity for which she was known. If there were curves to be found, they were in her hips, which swelled outward with far more abandon than her bust and granted her an elegant, if asymmetrical, feminine silhouette.

In physique and garb, too, an image of porcelain passivity was plastered for the world to see and interpret. Long, dextrous fingers led to narrow hands and arms. Tiny feet led to legs that moved with enough grace to convey the image of a maiden floating across the earth itself should the hem of her dress fall close enough to the floor. The woman was almost always clad in deep purples and silvers, with jewels and finery that mimicked the sigil of her House. Indeed, this is how almost the entire world save for the servants that tended to her morning and evening affairs knew young Caeda. The image of the young woman, the jewel of the Faronwind trade empire that had begotten the ill-understood noble house, was curtailed and cut to a very specific edge, honed in such a way as to increase her value as a commodity; a commodity which, as far as Lord Faronwind was concerned, fell entirely under his purview. So it went – with the second youngest but by far the most beautiful and well-liked of the Faronwind daughters having her history set in stone from its first conception.

Or so the story was meant to go. Caeda had other ambitions. Determined to cast off the shackles of her nobility, the woman dreamed night after night of tales of gallantry and honor and adventure that the foolhardy nobles who purported to control her could never fathom. Caeda had machinations and ambitions as countless as the suitors that came to call at her door; she knew not to which plan she would eventually cling as her lifeline away from this hell of nondeterminance, but she knew that some day soon one would spirit her away to serve a far grander destiny than the one she had been granted as the key to her father's coin purse.