Rose Thorne
Rose is a striking woman who appears to be in her late 30s. Once, she was invariably dressed in the latest fashions and projected an image of serene self-confidence, but these days her exile has worn on her greatly. The few who have seen her have said she is haggard and drawn, with age and the weight of her struggle lining her face and clad in the travel-stained and ragged remnants of her finery. To mortal eyes, Rose is a tall, statuesque woman with long, blonde hair and strikingly bright blue eyes. She has full, naturally deep red lips and skin as soft as rose petals.

In her fae mien, her skin takes on a slight bluish tinge, and her lips deepen to a dark midnight blue. Rose stems twine around her limbs like green wire, but somehow the thorns never seem to prick her. The Mantle of Spring enfolds her in life; the air around her always smells of fresh-mown grass, and flowers spring up at her feet when she walks. A crown of twined roses chased with silver and glass shines on her brow, marking her as the true Queen of Spring.