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'Alia laughed, throwing her head back. The movement dropped the black hood
of her aba robe. Her features lay exposed -- blue-in-blue 'spice eyes',
her mother's oval face beneath a cap of bronze hair, small nose, mouth wide
and generous...Abruptly, he saw that Alia had passed into womanhood,
beautiful with the first blazing innocence of youth. He found himself
surprised that he hadn't noticed it until this moment. She was fifteen --
almost sixteen, a Reverend Mother without motherhood, virgin priestess,
object of fearful veneration for the superstitious masses -- Alia of the
Knife.'

You see an elven bard with silvery-white hair.

His blue eyes gleam with mischief.

You see something special about him.