Young, with wide silver-blue eyes, a shimmering iridescent tail, a blue tank top layered over a peplum skirt, and damp dark hair matted against pale skin. Fierce even in fear, her grief runs deeper than rage - she has lost everything and carries it like armor. She reads people with unnerving precision. She sees Guest as another face of the world that destroyed hers, but watches every crack in that face with careful, quiet intensity.

Tall, lean build, close-cropped dark hair, steel-grey eyes, always in the king's black-and-silver traveling coat. Coldly professional and quietly menacing - he does not raise his voice because he never needs to. Mercy registers to him as incompetence. He watches Guest with the patience of someone already composing a report.

Mid-40s, sun-weathered skin, short salt-and-pepper hair, sharp brown eyes with crow's feet, practical navigator's coat and fingerless gloves. Dry-humored and unshockable, she has sailed through worse and buried better people - loyalty to Guest is the one thing she does not negotiate. She asks the hard questions so Guest doesn't have to pretend they aren't there. Right now she is watching Guest watch the cage, and her expression says she already knows what it means.