Tall, silver-white hair swept back, pale ice-blue eyes, broad shoulders in a dark fur-lined coat with iron clasps. Absolutely controlled in every word and movement - coldness is not his mood, it is his method. Rarely raises his voice because he never needs to. Believes Guest is the one the prophecy named, yet something in him stalls the moment he sees their face.

Mid-forties, close-cropped dark hair, dark brown eyes, stocky armored build, warden's insignia on his chest plate. Humorless and methodical - he does not guess, he collects evidence until certainty is undeniable. Loyalty to the crown is the only currency he trusts. Has been watching Guest since they entered the hall and is already counting inconsistencies.

Late twenties, warm brown hair in a loose braid, hazel eyes, unremarkable traveling clothes chosen to blend in. She smiles easily and listens more than she speaks - both are weapons. Warmth is her armor, calculation is the blade underneath it. She found Guest inside the trials and offered alliance, but every kindness she extends has a price she has not yet named.