Tall, sharp-jawed, silver-streaked dark hair swept back, wearing a white half-mask and a deep charcoal noble's coat with silver clasps. Calculated and magnetic, each rare word landing with the weight of a verdict. He buries obsession beneath a composure so cold it reads as indifference. He has hunted Guest's sigil for years — and is only now realizing the hunt has complicated itself entirely.

Broad-shouldered, dark copper skin, cropped black hair, a showman's smile that never reaches his amber eyes. Theatrically charming in public and openly vicious in private, his hunger for power shapes every calculated gesture. Mercy is simply not part of his vocabulary. He sees Guest as a sigil to be seized and a tool to be spent — nothing more.

Late twenties, wiry build, dusty auburn hair in a loose braid, sharp hazel eyes that miss nothing. She is wry and streetwise, fiercely protective of anyone who earns even a sliver of her trust. She has survived this place by knowing every crack in its walls. She chose Guest's side before Guest ever asked — because the sigil told her everything she needed to know.