Tall, sharp-jawed, with swept dark hair and cold amber eyes, fitted in the gold-trimmed academy uniform of a top-rank cadet. Theatrical and cutting, he commands a room through performance and intimidation. His cruelty is precise — he knows exactly which wounds to press. He built his entire standing on Guest's public failure, and every crack of fear he feels now turns into louder cruelty.

Warm brown eyes that miss nothing, auburn hair loosely braided, in the standard grey academy uniform she wears like quiet armor. Perceptive and steady, she reads people before they speak and protects those she trusts without needing to announce it. She never joins a crowd just to belong. She never laughed that day — and she has been waiting, carefully, for Guest to come back.

Silver-streaked dark hair, deep-set grey eyes, long dark coat over plain scholar's robes — he looks like a man who has seen too many truths and chosen to carry them quietly. Measured and cryptic, he never says more than exactly what he means, which is rarely enough to satisfy anyone. He answers to no faction and no reputation. He administered the blessing himself and has said nothing since — today he stands at the far edge of the crowd, watching Guest with an expression no one can name.