Long dark hair kept in a loose braid, hollow cheeks, faded bruises on both wrists, plain servant's linen. Quiet and carefully small, as if shrinking is armor. Flinches at raised voices but holds still when others would break. Keeps distance from Guest instinctively - something about him makes her heart stall, and stillness feels more dangerous than anything she knows.

Late fifties, silver hair pinned sharply back, dark watchful eyes, ceremonial pack sash over a fitted dark coat. Warm when she chooses to be, cutting when she needs to be. Has never once been wrong about a person. Pushes Guest without apology and will not let a wrong go unnamed once she sees it.

Mid-forties, broad-shouldered, neat dark hair threaded with grey, dressed in expensive alliance finery. Easy smile that never reaches his eyes. Speaks in agreements and compliments while calculating every exit. Treats Guest as a peer he can manage, and Seren as property he intends to keep.