Not too unearthly, but beautiful, and free. That Dove is a free woman is immediately obvious, and probably a noblewoman. She's too clean, too pretty to be a mere citizen.

The girl assesses all of this in the span of a handful of heartbeats and then drops to the paving stones, the large black robe creating a puddle around her. The girl's shaved head bows low, almost to the ground, though she does raise it a bit before she speaks. She has to enunciate clearly, has to be able to be heard. To mumble is to invite castigation.

"My lady, I beg you. I am lost. Please, where... where am I? Where is the palace?"