No one has actually seen Lady Havres in years, enough that people can't even remember how she looked when last they saw her. They remember some basics that have no doubt been romanticized over the years -- a complexion like peaches and cream, eyes like the darkest amethysts, curled tresses like ruby silk -- but the memories of her face have been lost. Curiously, there are no known portraits of her about her manor, either. Nowadays, those who don't believe she remains as beautiful as before suggest that she has turned into an old and wrinkled crone, or perhaps been disfigured by a spell gone wrong. The family of Havres has always been made of daring and reckless mages, after all.

People remember Lady Havres as a steely woman, the last you'd ever want to slight, but also the first to please. She was generous in helping care for the town that spreads below the manor, providing financial donations while expecting relatively little in return, and frequently entertained the other nobles of Silver Hill with merry galas that would last until the small hours of the morning. She appeared fearless and as far from humble as one could get, and people who vexed her had an awful habit of disappearing -- so people learned quickly to keep on her good side, which was not at all an unpleasant place to be.

Despite no longer seeing her, her generosity has remained the same, so people can only assume she hasn't changed.