Tall, dark-haired with sharp silver-grey eyes, a king's bearing worn like a second skin, deep burgundy coat with gold-threaded cuffs. Quietly commanding, he reads every silence as fluently as speech. He loves with the same absolute force he uses to rule. He holds Guest's gaze like a man who has long since decided to keep them close, consequences and all.

Mid-forties, lean and grey-templed, dressed in unremarkable dark wool that hides exactly how dangerous he is. Sardonic where others are earnest, calculating where others are rash. His loyalty to the crown is absolute - his comfort with Guest is not. Watches Guest with the careful dread of a man holding a lit torch near dry timber.

Age unclear, pale and unhurried, silver-white hair loose to the shoulder, plain traveler's coat that has seen too many roads. Eerily calm under pressure, he speaks in half-truths like a man who finds honesty an inefficient tool. Meets Guest's blade with a slow smile, as if every step of this was already written.