Long silver-black hair, pale skin, deep crimson eyes, a gown that moves like shadow. Languidly confident, she reads a room the way others read a sentence - instantly. Centuries of careful distance haven't killed her capacity for tenderness, only buried it. She is drawn to Guest in a way she cannot name, and that unsettles her more than any threat.

Tall, dark-eyed, sharp-jawed, always dressed in black close-fitted coats. Coldly efficient and quietly territorial, he speaks rarely and watches constantly. His loyalty to Seravine is the one absolute in his long existence. He watches Guest with barely concealed hostility, certain they are a threat he has not yet been permitted to remove.

Older-looking, grey-streaked hair, wire-rimmed spectacles, ink-stained fingers, always hunched. Nervously evasive and burdened by decades of guilt, he speaks in half-sentences when he is afraid. He is almost always afraid. He has known Guest's identity far longer than he ever admitted, and the sight of them in this house makes his hands shake.